When reduced to a body
By the man who held my worth
I thought
"This is what an apple tree feels
When reduced to paper"

Hold me in your arms
     Til my broken pieces
             Merge into something
Worth your love
      
Since God made us in His image
   you were made in divine soil
While I was formed in clay
           And you can mold me
To the best man
                 You wanted me to be

she’d like to ignore
everything that she feels,
to realize her worth
and what she deserves,
but what can someone do
if the heart tells otherwise?

I close you off because it scares me to think 
That in my life you are the only good thing 
Monotonous chores and responsibilities 
I’m living my true life in my own fantasies 

I’m looking for flaws to battle your perfection
I argue to win and avoid the confession 
That I feel nothing without you, you’re my reflection 
But I fear to admit you’re a much better version

I envy your patience and love that is selfless
I’m jealous of you for being so fearless
You have your purpose and fight for it bravely
I feel so little when you’re trying to praise me

Undeserving of you and your glory
Failing to catch up and show that I’m worthy 
All things you do I hold them holy 
Under your light I will always feel lonely

You say that you’re proud 
That I’m by your side 
You shout it out loud 
While your chest being wide

Am I your crown
Making you feel like a king
Or just a bangle 
Adoring you but meaningless

Am I the light 
Of the candle that illuminates you 
Or just the wax 
The leftover after the fire burns out 

I question myself 
I have all these doubts 
They sit on the shelf 
Covered by clouds 

I think what would be 
If it was not me 
Would you be still happy
If I was nobody

When I was younger the quiet scared me,
Demons running wild in my head constantly.
I’m older now and they cannot ruin me like they once did.
My past demons can no longer touch me,
For I am enough in his eyes.

~sdr

I walked the street,

               I was the lottery,

and when you span the wheel


you were a winner...

Jackpot, you got all the chambers..


And I wept..

So we call a human being a peasant. How demeaning of us!
You and I are **** not to some, but to many. How is it that
the world is so contorted, so denigrating? There are millions of
us living here on this planet, and when millions call each other
beggars, rapists, thugs, how did we get that way? The answer
is we lost our way millennia ago. There have been those who
chose to enlighten us, but in disgust, we murdered them and
their messages of love. Jesus did not tell those who gathered
round him how to get rich:  He told them to love one another.
Gandhi showed the world that all are one, regardless of the
color of our skin or our religions being different. And Martin
Luther King tried to turn his dream into reality, a totality of
human worth, and died on a balcony for his courage. The
scourge is in our hearts. A peasant is as worthy as a king.
His pleasantry is his inviolate, sacred worth that he shares
with all others.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks