little fragile creature
broken and empty
your crying again
you're so **** silly

little skinny girl
why don't you eat?
you're starving again
food is what you need

little baby me
why are you here
you should have been dead
no one would waste a tear

In a different place and a different time
I'd find your smile, that pale soft face
The cold hard truth is, I'd follow you down
To the ends of this world, to the end of my rope
I'm all for serious, I'm funny but this my dear is no joke
I'd hold your hand the whole way just to hear you say you need me

Where have you gone, where do you go
In the nights and hours I need you the most
Nobody cares and nobody knows
But to me you're nothing more than a ghost

I Promise I won't say a thing
Just come sit, let me push you on the swing
Share a laugh or two once more
Stay out late, use the back door

We could venture the night, brave our hardships
Solve all our problems with a little hard work
We can work it all out, there's no doubt about it

i have a litte tortoise and is name his fred
he lives in my garden underneath the shed
when the sun comes out he comes out to play
happy and content as he plays away.

he roams around the garden looking for a treat
for a tasty lettuce leaf thats what he loves to eat
he just takes is time walking round so slow
then when he gets tired back to the shed he goes

climbing underneath to his little bed
where its nice and cool underneath the shed

Just off Highway 95

On the east side of the road

Sits a monolithic diner

Where the truckers all reload

The food's great and there's plenty

And the place is really clean

But the real reason they stop here

Is the Truck Stop Beauty Queen

She's a five foot 5 inch dynamo

A former Miss Biloxi Belle

She's a pepperpot of moxie

And a spirit you can't quell

Her hair's piled high upon her head

It's a blonde come from a bottle

Her attitude is bottle brewed

Her skin is slightly mottled

She holds court in the corner

At a little table in the back

She's telling stories to all who'll listen

And she's always talking smack

She talks about the drivers

All the people that she's seen

She's a former Miss Biloxi Belle

She's The Truckstop Beauty Queen

She used to wait the tables

Worked the till a little too

When a talent scout from Georgia

Took her back in fifty two

He sweet talked her like no one

That this girl had ever seen

He promised her the world that day

He'd put her on the silver screen

She left home in the dead of night

She left a note upon the car

You're better off without me here

And I'm better off by far

She was off to find her fortune

With her new man by her side

But by the time she reached Atlanta

She knew she'd been taken for a ride

She found out there was no future

He had no contacts, not a chance

There would be no movie stardom

She would not get to dance

She left but stayed in Georgia

She would build herself a life

She would make herself a winner

She would never be a wife

She took work in a small diner

And at night she hit the books

She was gonna help the others

Who'd be lied to for their looks

By sixty three she reached her goal

They called her to the bar

She was now  a full fledged lawyer

Could it be she'd come this far

She was adopted in Port Huron

Foster homes were all she knew

She made her mind up early

She would be one of the few

Who made it on her own accord

She would find a ticket out

Then one day in walked that stranger

That god ****** talent scout

She retired in the nineties

Though she will not say just when

And the day that she retired

She moved home to Michigan

She had no one there to meet her

When she came back home in June

She would keep her past a secret

She would sing a different tune

For she left to find her fortune

On the big old silver screen

She would come back home a winner

She would come back home a queen

She bought the little diner

On the side of ninety five

And by working there three days a week

She somehow came alive

She created little stories

Of a past she'd never had

She talked of her dear mother

And her tall,distinguished dad

The drivers loved to hear her

Tell her tales when they were by

And not one of then discovered

That her stories were all lies

She wouldn't ever mention

How she lived her life before

She would tell them just a litte

And she wouldn't say much more

She told tales of things of wonder

And of places that she'd been

And at one point she told how

She was a one time beauty queen

Now, we know that never happened

It was something in her mind

It was the reason that she left here

It was the dream she wouldn't find

But the drivers never questioned

And the diners loved the place

They came in all the time

To hear the stories, see her face

The diner was a gigantic

And three days a week t'was full

As they came to hear her stories

That they never knew were bull

The one they loved to hear

And the one she loved to tell

Was how that one day back in Georgia

She was the Miss Biloxi Belle

No one knew that she was lying

She was the best that had never been

But to all those at the diner

She was the Truckstop Beauty Queen

It's a life that never happened

Except for a few bits in between

It's the tale of Dinah Mussberg

The Truckstop Beauty Queen

Run little wolf, do not be afraid
this world belongs to who
pay the price to remain untamed

if you get lost, do not be ashamed
push on and keep your north true
run little wolf, do not be afraid

as hunger strikes, remember the game
the weak will always be food
pay the price to remain untamed

howl out loud until your voice fades
watch as your pack comes to
run little wolf, do not be afraid

no matter the threat don't stay in the shade
stand and face it no matter how few
pay the price to remain untamed

when death draws near, never pass blame
he comes for us all and your time is due
run little wolf, do not be afraid
pay the price to remain untamed

Little heaven 
Little homeliness 
Little money
Little loneliness 

Little me 
Little you
Little time 
Little clue 

Little life 
Litte sleep 
Little love
For me to keep 

Little point 
Little reason 
Little love 
But I'm still squeezin

I'm still trying
Don't know why
If its not me
It leaves or dies

Little time
Little place 
falling behind 
Pick up the pace 

Who to have
Who to choose
Little me 
Without the You

Little me 
Without the you
Little time 
Little clue

Little reason
Little place 
Life is wheezin
After the race 

Life is long 
Life is short
Life is wrong
Life will hurt

Life will last 
Forever for me
Cause life wont end
A lock with no key

Life won't end 
Till I seize to see

Life won't end
Till I end me.

Life won't end 
Until life leaves me

two little daffodils sat up on a hill
standing there so proudly standing very still
with there yellow flowers standing out so bright
underneath the sun sending out the light.

surrounded by the grass growing all around
with there long green stork protruding from the ground
they looked very beautiful such a lovely thing
standing there so pretty to let us know its spring

One on a reservation.
One on a plantation.
Many placed in concentration.
Sometimes you must question's the decision making.
One held back by laws.
One mistreated like the treaties never were signed.
Sometimes you must ponder the decision's making.

One treated by cowards with a Swatiska.
Only to see them run when the Allies came after them.
Others placed in camps within their native land.
Which were the Asians.
Although they were born Americans.

One group salute the litte dictator.
They still hoping for the days of segregation.
What was?
Will never be.
So, they essentially living out a dream.

What rights one group has achieved?
Was fought for down through the centuries.
But still we are America.
There's no better place to be.

I guess that's why others loves to come here.
Where else can you profess to truly be free?
Oh, we have those that claims we're stepping on their rights.

But, they must take this in account.
Only in America can you voice your views.
Without disappearing like you were a distant dream.

People says, we shouldn't live in the past.
Just notice when it's theirs the way they edit it down.
We see this when we visit many museums.

An American view point seems lost in articles.
Because , we're afraid to knowledge.
We kins to many  people with a different race.

This we can't compare to lost without a trace.

i am from waiting rooms
from linoleum floors and iv cords
i am from sirens
(they scream in the front yard
as loud as my mother)
i am from my father's sickness
an eight year old adult
i learned to care for everyone
but myself

i am from mixed drinks and four counts
from nights as blurred as her vision
i am from all the words she won't remember
and the way they distort my self image
from too much responsibility
i am from the mothers day cards
my litte sister addresses to me

i am from my only Florida home
avocados and iced tea
from shared stories in the back yard
the boy i loved, who broke my heart

in my closet there was a cardboard box
filled with skeletons and secrets
a mix of different memories
to never forget what built me
i am from those moments
the calm, the chaos
the lovely life i lived

s.s