What is of a child's worth,
they say,
if not to save the Earth?

But hundreds of miles away
a twelve year old girl
sits in a classroom
and learns about the world
as it passes by.

How's it come to this--
having to defend the world to be able to live in it?
How's it come to this--
to be born
rid of birthright?
Must a child's life burn
as fast as a candle's wick,
or a forest in a slow, painful disappearing trick?
And instead of a crowd roar of applause,
there's only silence;
and then nothing.

I wonder
if you were looking
to be saved
the way
you always claimed
you were doing
for me

When I see her again
Let me tell you
Every cell becomes alive
I awake

The complimentary serendipity
The particle charge of
Reading from the same mind
The quantum sharing of two universal whole beings of light
That somehow got entangeled
And when I see her
It all makes perfect sense
This and this and this...

Is there a chance for us to undo the past?
To correct our mistakes
To retract all the wrong doings
To take back everything

Is there someone, somehow, who can help me heal the pain?
Would there be anyone out there willing to take me in?
Who can be by side and mend me?
A living soul, who'll be there to catch me.

I'm scared. Yes, I am scared.
No, I am not. I'm terrified.
I'm extremely, terribly, gravely, terrified.
And it's terrifying that, I feel terrified.

I am nervous.
I am frightened.
I am horrified.
No, I am petrified.

But you know what the scariest thing of 'em all?
The most petrifying, horrifying thing?
Is that I am shaky and rattled—
But my body feels like sassy and comfy.

I'm getting used of doing unsuitable things
Feeling cozy and warm—
Relax and composed
It feels like having my second skin—

Oh, I know. I know —
I think — just a thought
That maybe, just maybe...
I need saving — help me.

I am an addict
in need of saving.
You're my heroine

Out in despair, I trod alone
I’m not an island but I am a man
Out to find my purpose,
That’s a goal, I seek;
To meet I must.
I need saving, of course I do;
To free me, from my mental trauma
I need heeling, come now
I pledge to love me, with all my might.

Although life’s unfair, I live
Through persecution, I live
I’m alive, I’ve won,
The battle between me and myself
I need a revelation, I do.

I sacrifice a lot, but yet results
I save a lot and yet I lose
I help a lot and receive no thanks,
How hard can life get?
I need to see.

Help me, I’m hurting
I cry day and night
I need help O Lord, only You Lord.
Thank you, for only you see
The pain I endure: hidden,
So deep within me.

I’m in a far place,
My heart needs rest,
Yes it does,
I need an ending,
A revelation I seek!

even tho the fire was never really lit truly human,
their tousled hair and sad eyed lowland blues owning the fullness of natural emptiness ain’t no crime, like a double negative,
to which no one no cares no objects when spoken

those bad boysenberries radiate a flirty tarty aure, venus fly traps
for those needy to do a saving, the sweets of the the three poems
memorized for wooing, oft another’s undoing, the top button
releasing a burning bush of chest heat
being misleading the  reddening cheeks

was a bad boy once of ill repute, daddies and mommies warning
their innocents of my word of mouth reputation, making me 100%
irresistible, so all forgot when climbing into my two-seater to go
moon gazing swooning,  learning the moves practiced in nightime

bad boys still need saving sooner but usually later, cause
moon gazing is still a thrill for his new audience of grand children,
proof that some of them boys are hiding well enough stuff
beneath their veneer

be the miner of a thousand years, teach these child boys well,
crack them open, let the empty escape and light rays spill in
**** if some of those bad boys grow up
now, just to be  bad poets laughing
at the foolishness of the early days of
discontented shortsightedness incontinence of a soul fumbling