is an egg ever left out of the egg carton?
or a red crayon out of a pack of 24?
what about the right-foot-sock or the left-hand-glove?
no

did the husband ever forget about his wife?
well, maybe sometimes
but i would never forget about you

the group of white sheep
and i the black
roaming around aimlessly
searching for friendship
for an invitation into your bountiful pasture
where you graze day after day
and where i stand on the other side of the fence gazing in
wondering if you'll notice me or my efforts
or anything really

do you notice anything other than yourselves?
can you see over your side of the fence?
do you even want to see?

i am the egg
i am the red crayon
i am the right-foot-sock and the left-hand-glove

do you know what happens to things that are lost?
they are eventually found

Every time you texted me after we went our separate ways
gave me hope.
That was very ****** up of you,
I still wait around and I don't know how to cope.

You absence and silence cut deep into my core.
Deeper than any knife, stronger than any lure.
Though you squeeze my heart
You'll always be the man I adore.

Your touch heats my skin,
Your kiss sets me on fire.
You take only what YOU need,
And leave me burning with desire.

I've been told to be patient and kind
But I'm only an object, aren't I?
So why do people care if I fall and break
And take lives in my wake?

You called again. And I hate myself.
This is how it always goes
Before the second ring
I'm already saying hello.

She was a flower,
Blossoming in each direction she stepped.
A flower tucked in a rose woven sweater.
She grew thorns to protect herself from those whom sought to misuse the essence of her beauty.
The spread of her fragrant bud, spreading her petal in the midst
of where she stood.
Paying no never-mind to her roots, her petals withered.
Applying water to everywhere accept where it was needed most.
They continued to pass, her sweater now dingy.

The ***** of different fingers, she no longer swayed the same.

A season of orange and red leaves.
Then came the winter. Hard but fair

Robbing her of all the beauty she possessed.

It was when her petals fell that she remembered what mattered most

Hush little baby
Stop crying now
Mama’s well trained
I will show you how.
Lock your feelings up inside
Don’t let them out until you’ve died.

Stop little baby
Don’t you feel!
Keep your soul
In a heart of steel.
Promise Mama that you won’t.
Love breaks everyone’s heart if you don’t.

Sleep little baby
That does the trick
Crying all day
Can make you sick.
Nobody like a kid who cries
No one will come to sing you lullabies.

Good little baby
Never says a word.
Quietest baby
I have ever heard.
No one would ever guess
That inside you are a mental mess.

Hush little baby
Stop crying now
Mama’s well trained
I will show you how.
Lock your feelings up inside
Don’t let them out until you’ve died.

Overcame just about everything in life

Mothers death was the first
Raising five younger siblings
Clothing Bathing Cooking and so much more
With God I stood strong. I was only 10 years old.

Fathers abuse was second
He really showed me what wasn't love but I felt in my heart I was showing grace by understanding his frustration over his deceased wife.
The beatings (Slaps Kicks Punches Abandonment). The Blood. The sadness.
His loud threats. Words that were mistreating. The pain.

Yet I love this man but can't find respect for him.

Relationships
Started off as not caring for nobody.
As I matured into this woman I started to want this thing called Love.
I was afraid because I felt I didn't know how.  
Come to find, that I love and love well but I'm receiving a cycle of being mistreated..

I'm still standing  Strong

Trampled, yanked from their roots, strewn across the dirt;
A single, beautiful rose lay, treated as lowly as the soil beneath,
Loses sight of its true worth and perfection,
Amongst the several other damaged "objects".

Used and abused in manners undeserved, yet she still perseveres.

Replanted, freshened, and dusted off, she stands *****.
Portraying beauty and elegance, others do not see the damage;
Yet it is visible to me, as clear as day are the harsh conditions endured.

And so is her strength, to bear another day.
And so is her worth, deserving of more than the world can offer,
Or that I can muster; I'll try my hardest to give her everything.

Is it wrong to feel mistreated?
To never be accepted?
I believe there's something wrong,
and I'm trying to stay strong.
But I'm not sure if I can deal with this anymore or any less.

I gave in
They yell at me
They call me boney
They call me a anorexic
They tore my heart
But this toilet healed it
They knocked me down
They told me to die
They said I'm no good
But my mama tell me to eat more because honey you're getting smaller!
How can you stand tall when the world shuns you down?