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Steven L Herring Aug 2016
I don't really walk anymore.
Not anymore I don't anyway.
I don't run or jump or play.
I guess you could say I drag my feet,
but they never really touch the ground,
so that's not true either.

I float, you know?
I kinda hover around
just trying to stay above it all...
just trying to rise above all the lies
just nodding my head here,
and shaking a hand there....
I hear, but I don't listen.
It's not that I don't want to,
it's just that I don't believe most of the words
that escape lying, filthy mouths.
You see, I've been down this road before.
See those boot prints right there?
Yeah, those!  They're mine man.
Yeah that's right.  
You're walking down a dirt road
that I cleared out a long time ago.
Matter of fact, I can still smell the smoke
they tried to blow up my *** long ago
like it was just yesterday man.
Oh.  Nah, man!  Don't clam up on me now!
****'s just getting interesting!
It's much more than a little entertaining
watching you squirm as you tell your silly story.

But don't worry, partner.
I ain't even mad, werd?
You must understand that I was
born for this **** right here.
No, man!
Not this job.
Not this skill set.
Not this family or city.
No, none of that, my friend.
No sir, I was born for *******.
To sift through ******* to be precise.
It doesn't really matter what you,
or he,
or she,
or anybody
throws at me.
I'm gonna take it,
break it,
shake it down,
and turn that **** into gold, man.

I promise you one thing though.
I won't share it.
I'll just keep on walking by with mine.
Dig?
True Story!
Ha!  But yeah.  Good luck with whatever it is that you're doing.
Hope it works out.
It won't, but I hope it does anyway.
Smoke-stained face from when it all blew up.
I'll just keep floating...just keep hovering right here...
untouched and alive....
Sometimes, you just have to rise above all the ******* your stuck in....
Steven L Herring Aug 2016
You're my rock even when you're crumbling.
When I'm stumbling and mumbling,
You pick me up,
Dust me off,
And lend me your voice for clarity.

It's a rarity for me to count costs without questioning,
Because I've got a head full of hostages, and
even when I let them out slowly
One at a time
To the firing line,
You help me blow out their candles.

You're crumbling,
But I got a shovel and a bucket to put you in.
I'll carry you til my hand hurts.
I'll carry you till my knuckles bleed.
I'll find that solid rock to place you on
And build you back up again.

See,
You don't get the luxury
Of melting away...
Not today
Not ever...
No way!

For you are my rock,
and I WILL build you back up again,
Because I love you,
And I promised you I would.
And that's a promise I plan on keeping
Even if it means the end of me,
Because I love you,
And that's what you mean to me.
To my wife...
Steven L Herring Aug 2016
I've got two hands in my pockets.  One is filled with hope, peace, love, and charity.  The other one is filled with hate, anger, hopelessness, and selfishness.  I've tried and tried to put them together, but they always blow apart.  I walk around feeling like people are staring at me and my Jesus Christ on a cross pose.  It's really frustrating sometimes trying to go through doors.  I have to turn sideways...and all because my two hands won't let go of their precious cargo to meet in the center of my body.  Sometimes, when it's quiet, I swear I hear them talking to each other.  One is begging the other one to let go, while the other screams in agony.  What can I do, but sit and wait for a miracle...or a machete mishap.  One hand has so much to give, while the other wants to take away the world....
Less of a poem.  I know, but it's all I've been able to squeeze out of my head lately.  Lots going on....
Steven L Herring Jul 2016
I wish I could
If I might
Be able to erase your minds tonight.

Not all the way
Just a little
To make you forget
All the evil

I would erase your skin
Show the world what I see
The good that steals itself away
Deep inside
Hiding within

Like children
Playing games in a front yard
Or drinking from a hose
Of hateful racist ideology
I would dispose
And make you brand new again

I hate all of this animosity
I hate it.
It makes me hide my face in shame and sorrow....
It attacks my soul and tortures it.
Steven L Herring Jun 2016
I'll just hide inside my head
Wait and hide
Til you all are dead
No longer a failure will I be
Your eyes are closed now,
so you can't see.
You can't see me for what I really am
Your eyes are closed and filled with sand
No you can't see me for what I've grown to be.
Just another man.
Just plain ol' ordinary me...
Steven L Herring Apr 2016
I walked
with a wounded
woman down
a hallway
with a
nurse at
the end.
He was not
my friend.
He was
not her
friend either.
He was
just another
***** ***
mouth breather.
Steven L Herring Apr 2016
Grey, cold, soaking wet wind whipping my face
dripping disgrace;
drifting in space with a broken ship
wishing for a river and a broken oar...at least there I could swim!
Plans were made behind the scenes.
Schemes were hatched and summer fun put in a stall headed for the ground with no chute.
No end
No silver lined clouds on the horizon.
The air is cold and I'm stuck with strangers.
The flares are all gone as I duck from danger.
Castle corrupted and cockpit cracked open.
The pressure popped the seals, and I'm left too weak to pull it all closed again.
It's okay though.
I'll hide in my own dungeon; digging my own mote with broken fingernails and cracked cuticles.
My own prison suffocates me; melting into the mold.
Playing the role written for me.
There's no escape, just more and more
piled on petals from dead flowers.
What could've been should've been, but now gone...
forever in a vacuum and lost in some sea....
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