Congrats, your first time being a lock smith
and as you are new to the job I shall explain how volatile your position is
Because as you pick away at the fractured mechanisms of those who have come before you
the worn grove of a few different keys,
the click clack of pins cracked by the crushing pressure of their counterweights
your working towards a prize, the problem being this prize has been claimed,
now don't stress,
its been claimed an abandoned like a cute puppy with a bite so steel yourself and keep working
because im a lock,
and i cant show you how i feel until you open me..
and I cant reveal the contents i withhold until you push the right pins into the right slots...
so im sorry if i don't vocalize how i feel
because i want you to get through the steel bars blocking your way to the prize,
so please keep fighting...dont give up one me yet

This poem is for all the words that were never spoken
The ones that got caught half way up the throat
almost to their destination, but swallowed back down again.
The ones that die on the tongue, leaving only the bad taste of regret.

This is for all those who were afraid to say those words.
The would be lovers who never found the courage to speak their hearts desire.
The preacher who has lost his faith and to the sinner who found his.

This is for the 1 am street walkers who fell in love with shadows.
For their empty pockets and full hearts.
And all their unanswered prayers to gods that don’t know their names.

This right here, is for all the moments that we spent together
and all the moments that died before their time.
This is a kiss goodbye or maybe even a kiss hello.

This is for all the people who ever wanted to die before their time
and for all the ones who keep on struggling.
I know the pain that nights brings.

This is for me, me who is all of this things.
And for you, my midnight warrior,
who taught me that there is hope in tomorrow.

This poem is not a eulogy, but rather a resurrection,
for all of us who go too far and love the wrong people.
This is not our tombstone, but our declaration.

I believe in the pull of the moon.

I believe in the things unseen that hold us together.

I believe in subtlety; that we are influenced by the intangible much more than we’d suppose.

I believe in spirit speaking to spirit, changing us from the inside out.

I believe in light that flows into the very cracks of darkness, until daylight is all that is seen.

I believe in change, and reinvention and leaps of faith.

I believe who I am today, is not who I will be tomorrow.

I believe in the fire, the flood and the flesh-that love only deepens to the depth of your sacrifice.

A place newly freed from the grips of its mother
Struggles with the rules that keep the mezzanine from
Crashing down.

1) The official and ever-wanted right to speak one's mind
In a way only they can do. Religion, politics,
Every matter ever opinionated.

2) If a man entered your home and threatened
Every loved one that lived there, would you want to be helpless?
Defenseless? Or would you **** or maim to protect
Your family? A gun, a knife, and the right to do so?

3) Many people would be honored to house a soldier.
Simple as that, but what if they didnt?
Money is tight, there is no room? And they are sick of giving up
Their own beds and food for a soldier fighting for
Something they do not agree with?
Preventative measures are needed.

4) Nothing to hide, but constantly searched.
Is privacy really that unimportant?
No; it is important.

5) A crime, a trial; it should be obvious.
The same crime twice? Impossible.
Self incrimination? Non existent.

6) The right to know what you've been accused of,
To have a quick trial with an attorney and witnesses at your defense.
Imagine having no clue, and suddenly having a gun to your head?

7) A crime done by you or another,
And a jury to help the decision, but not step in the
Judge's place. Simple discussions of which laws applied and not
No longer took place.
Sed lex, dura lex.

8) The banishment of cruel and unusual punishment,
Outrageous fees payed for bail, pain inflicted in strange ways.
The morality of punishment made into law.

9) A common arrangement that an individuals rights,
Not written in the constitution, are secure and valid.
Yet, for some odd reason, it had to be added to prevent
Violation of these rights.

10) Finally, the abilities of each individual state
To decide and enforce for its own people.
The individuality each separate place craves and
Wants as a child wants his own decisions to be made.

For years, they stole and robbed from our pockets.
For years, they murdered what faith we had,
Killed what hope we gained for ourselves.
Poverty loomed over us like death, the
Loss of materialistic payment. Currency controls;
We have none.

Beginning with a silly addition to parchment and paper.
A "stamp act," if you will. Oh, the rarity of a few extra
Coins to spend on a cake for the mistress!
Rebellion and violence against the act increased,
The Sons, the ones of Liberty left
Blood splattered on the ground we walk on.
Fear installed in the hearts of agents,
Collecting and shivering as coins ring in their satchels.
Soon, though, they left. Resigned and replaced themselves with
Another thief.
The Townshend- adding cents more to imported,
Provided, goods. The people starved for things
They need and can not afford.
Naive. They had materials. They had the skill,
But no need to use what they contained in their minds
And their bodies.
Begin the new world! Spin your own yarn and twine!
Build your own shoes! You don't need the goods
From old English factories and makers.

The disagreements and retaliation, the lack in
Morality in the brainwashed heads of soldiers.
A bothered redcoat drew his gun, leaving holes,
Horrible voids.
The dive from cliff to cliff, swing from tree to tree,
The ****** of blood and
The determination to be freed from the grasp of
A controlling monarchy.
The greed they exhibit and the cruelty.
Revenge for taking what is ours?
Sweet tea, English tea,
Soaked in the harbor. The tax will be no more!

The need for peace, rejected by one
Who wanted control and a steady reign.
The isolation, suffocation of the new land like an
Abused child.

It was only a matter of time before the child ran away.

Just say yes.
Yes to good mornings
   and late night talks.
Yes to Monday Night Football
   and Friday Night *****.
Yes to you singing to me all your favorite songs,
   yes to do it off-key,
      yes to do it out loud.
Yes to writting you poems
   and watching tv reruns.
Yes to dancing... even in silence,
   yes to do it without asking.
Yes to letting me love you,
   to holding you tight,
      to feeling the breeze
         while your hand squizes mine.
Yes to your fingers curlying my hair
   and me messing with yours.
Yes to that smile so bright,
   yes to sinking in your eyes,
      yes to your strong arms
         that lift me of the ground.
Yes to hearing you say
   how I make you proud,
      yes to the way you make me feel on a cloud.
Yes to repeating these things many times,
   yes to living a life to fill a thousand lines.
Yes to happiness,
   to our ocasional wildness.
Yes to planning,
   and sharing,
      to trusting
         and never questioning.
Yes to a chance to show you how I feel.
Do you want to build a life of dreams?

     Please, say yes...

                      ...at least say maybe.