Who are these people?

I baked them bread. I made them welcome
And they left **** and ***** on my lovely carpet.
They smiled as they stole my Gramma’s silver teapot
They pulled down the curtain in my dressing room
And mopped the bathroom floor with it

They each got a Jeep in ’59, parlayed it
To a better place to be and live
And perfect superior attitudes that
delegate those with rounded eyes
To the lonely space beneath contempt.

Who are these people?

I learned their songs and sang along
But they stole my record player
And sold it for a dollar ten
And gave me only half the money
Saying that was all they got.

They rob their kids of childhood games
To run the shop and study hard
To be the best at everything
And social mores and etiquette
Are something for the native born.

Who are these people?

I helped them when I saw a need
And never got a thank you
I smiled when they pushed me aside
To reach the goodie table first
And take the biggest piece.

They piously bow heads to pray
On entering a holy place
(That serves as Country Club)
To listen to the words of God
And leave to serve the devil.

Who are these people?

They are the winners in an evil game
A hive that can’t be overcome
I watch myself go down in flame
And wait for justice to be won.
                      ljm

To her friends, she is the angel created to save
To her lovers, she is the demon built to ****
But only a piercing true man enough to be brave
Can see she is an angel made by the devil

One day,
There was a man
Dancing gracefully
Beneath an azure sky

He was an angel,
To every living being
That paint his body
With a red color

He was a joy
Living in a man,
No other jester bested
The way he laughs

Beneath it all,
Is a wandering soul
In a world full of foul
(A wandering body)
(A wandering shell)

Beneath the mask,
A mask where his eyes
Tell what the hidden color
They have painted,
Is a burst of erratic pain,
A holocaust,
A disastrous despair,
Misery, sorrow, anger, suffering,
Any devil has wrought upon him.

And... the mask fell...
He is a shell...

You were tomorrow's promise
cause knowing you'd be in my future
helped me get through today

But you left
Then tip toed back
only for a second

So now, I don't know if
you'll be there when the sun comes up
Or if someone else will be waiting to tangle in my sheets

I heard you wrapped yourself in her the way you once did with me
Is that what you call a goodbye?

Had he been proud of you
all these summers, all these years
had he walked you home holding your hand for everyone to see? Had he been taking you to the beach, proud to hold the corners of your waist? Had he worked hard for this girl you gave him for him to deserve her everything?
So does he really love you more than the blinds closed in his windows,
more than the sheets to cover you under, more than the lust, the kisses, the passion of cravings, does he really show the love as he say. As he says "I love you". Had he really dedicated all the sweetness to calling you Sweetie? Or he's a sugar coated guy with plastic gloves and masks in advertisement of a sweet temptation to a diabetic?



(j.t)

While I'm so worried about who is being cruel to me and why,
I forget to look in the faces of those I've wronged.