Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tarasite Aug 2019
With all the options
there are to follow-
I choose the one
thats hardest to swallow.

The vast unknown,
and the grief for my life-
are the only things that keep me alive.

My empathy, my love,
I don't share with myself-
I'm empty inside,
its for everyone else.

Why am I here?
Why will I die?
Why do I fear the after this life?

I wish I felt the divine love
And was blissfully blessed
from the heavens above

I would like to believe,
would it make life better?
To fly ignorantly through
this shitstorm of weather?

An anthropomorphic tale of love & fear.
A false positive truth towards our existence here.

No signs from God
No devils to fear
Just my heart to my loved ones
Right now. Right here.

The doom that I carry is only for me,
it slouches my shoulders and cuts at my feet.

But I keep on walking, with my eyes on the ground.
Afraid to look up, for I will be let down.
Fire Jul 2017
I never loved you I loved the attention
To break your heart is my only intention
You smile you laugh you try to talk
But time is just getting closer for me to walk
You say nice things and such sweet lies
But your mouth is rotten and filled with flies
Your lips are soft and sweet
But filled with poisonous deceit

I'm you're Cinderella can't you see?
It's always been me
But your eyes only see pigs
Not the flower amongst the figs

You're peculiar
A new allure
You find your jaw impeccable
But your character: dependable
Your heart is your affliction
With it comes your eviction
You plead to Him to let you stay
You promise you won't walk away

A second chance
Another glance
You see your fathers hand
A marching band
A white beach sand
You gain a new stance

Mirror mirror on the wall
Who's the fairest of them all
The one who carries Him in his heart
Can lead a life with a fresh start
A few little white rocks,
Stuck in our tires.
A couple old beer cans
Turning black in the fire.
We live our lives simple and free.
Raised to say grace.
And trust me,
we believe.

We clear our thoughts,  
Down old dirt roads.  
Always coming home
Before momma's supper got cold.
We respect our elders
We fight for family.
If you mess with my  kin,
You're messing with me.

"Living in sin is a sure ticket to hell"
Momma would say,
With her Bible in hand
Scolding us well.
We listened carefully
As she spoke of God
Learning about worship
And the price of his blood.

Our parents raised us knowing
The consequence of sin.
There's a price we must pay
For our evil ways in the end.
So we continue living life
The way we were raised.
As Southern Christians,
Remaining thankfull to Him
For each passing day.

- Brandon Stephenson
A view of life through the eyes of a christian raised in the south.

— The End —