071116 #8:28PM

No matter how fine my aggregates are,
I still feel incomplete.
I'm not that strong,
And alone, I'm easy to break.

You could feel my cracks and leave me to banishment,
But You showed me the other face of strength.
Never did I know that there were three hollows within me,
Until I experienced those cracks
that made me lose my own strength.

The hard rock was shuttered,
And many times, I felt so useless.
But there You are and picked me up,
You carried me and reshaped me into a new me.
With tools, I had never known,
You accompanied me to reach my uttermost  potential
And yes, I have known my purpose.

You filled my holes with who You are
As a three-in-one God
And now, I have acknowledged how vital it is
To allow your reinforcement
In order that I could stand still.

You're not just testing my resistance and foundation
But stretching me to the fullness of Your expertise.
You can unused me and break me if You wanted to
But You had Your goodness and grace extended
In order that I may live.

I know, I would be hurt
But I know I was found by You,
And I was made by You --
I was made for You

Stare at my feet--
Bite my tongue;
Habits learned when I was young.

Smile more--
Sit up taller;
Lessons taught when I was smaller.

Calm down--
Don't be so wild;
Words used to tame the child.

An unstable mind.
Why is it so hard to find peace?
Because you have an unstable mind.
If you aren't stable then peace will be the last thing you'll find.

Wish my heart could flow,
Like sleds on snow, but it can't because I am unstable.

Take another look at that broken heart you hold. You tossed it to just about anyone in hopes that they'd catch it and not let you down, but you were surprised when your hopes where flipped upside down and that made you unstable.

See your thoughts is a way for your mind to breath, to live; to speak. And when your your unstable and your speaking, so is your mind.

That's what makes you unstable.

But remember, that if you think no one cares, please note that I do.
Because you are me and I am you.
So throw away your unstable mind and and take mines, while im mending your broken heart and your unstable mind.

Her body, tired.
Her limbs, overworked.
Her baby, forever wailing.

Laying bricks around,
That's who she is.
The little lady,
Who puts houses together
But couldn't build her own life.
That's who she is,
Forced to survive,
Forced to be something
That she was never born to become.

She goes to sleep after washing off the dust,
That she knows will collect in the same places tomorrow
And the day after that,
And the day after that,
And the lifetime after that.

Laying down the concrete,
That's who she is.
The old young lady,
Who mixes cement for a living
But couldn't glue her life back together.

Up here at the top of the world, I stare into the horizon.
a building under construction in plain view.

Next to me,
A homeless man throws an empty bottle at some hard hats.
Screaming nonsense at them like he owns them.

Beside him,
A dog prances around, stopping only to **** on the brown grass.
covering up the **** that was left by some other dog earlier on.

the sun sets.
a film student points and clicks his camera at his model.
The model stares longingly into the horizon

At night,
Rebels, stumble out of the wilderness giggling and coughing.
smelling like skunk and sweat.
Almost stumbleing off the rocks.

I sit alone at the top of the world,
Trying to find my own way to escape.

I stand up and walk to the end of the cliff.
I scream nonsense at the black, but nobody hears me.
I ******* the precipice; but nothing is covered up.
I stare gloomily off into the horizon, but all I see is the building under construction.
I inhale smoke, but I don't feel any different.

I can't escape like the homeless man does,
or the dog, or the film student, or the rebel. they found their ways and Those ways belong to them.

I need to find my own way to escape. My top of the world.

Forever neglected
Forever dismayed
Forever deafened
By the cacophony of the trade

The antiquated digger stands by
A sentient guard of the worker
It watches as the tree slowly dissipates
Its life slowly crumbling
As the voracious chipper
Devours the tree whole

The worker stands by
The digger stands by
The chipper chips away

The taciturn worker remains
Ruminating the existence of the world.
Why was he put here?
For what reason must he stay with these hallowed construction tools?
Do they feel any remorse for the change that they've enacted
On the world around them?
Are they aware that they transgress the laws of nature?

The bellicose chipper
Wages war with nature
As the people watch so distantly.
Its sound makes the neighbors quite belligerent
Yet the zealots watch attentively.
The pure ignorance
The pure neglect
The blatant apathy
Is something to be seen.

Whatever could possess you
To follow in the footsteps of the worker
To feel his pain as the trimmer
Chips away at the trees' centuries
The sound of shattered glass
Punctuates the air.
Perhaps there has been an accident.

The seams are ripping-
all mentality is lost.
I seem to be slipping
and for what cost?

What is the reason for my destruction?
A familiar detour I know too well.
I continue to stay under construction,
something to people I dare not tell.

For why worry them when all hope is gone
I look as I feel, after all I'm no con.
So yes the seam, I can say is now ripped
the sisters of fate look at my life line-
it's finally been snipped.