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I remember the first time someone explained to me what the word gay meant.
We were in middle school
Playing on the swing set behind Stoy Elementary
"He’s so gay," she said
Bitter disgust poured out of her mouth with every syllable
I could not think as to why being happy could be such a horrible thing
And so I asked
My exact words being
“Whats so wrong with being happy?”
Now both my friends looked at me weird
“Don’t you know what gay means?”
“Doesn’t it mean to be happy?”
“You’re such a little kid, gay does not mean happy. Gay is a boy who likes another boy”
I stood there wondering why it mattered so much that a boy liked another boy;
why it was such a distasteful thing.
And why it meant gay couldn’t still mean happy.
So, how have you been?
I know it's been awhile.
I couldn't bare to watch this creature feature -
The selling out for style.
What good is luminescence
If there is nothing to be seen?
I choose to light my words
With colors-
Blues, and reds, and greens
And shower it with glistening golden streams.
So, pardon me as I purge my disappointment.
Where does integrity go
When the walls are burning down?
The lanes are blocked with gratuitous frivolity as meaningless as the strands of fiber drifting in a beam of sunlight-
Particles of bodies that settle on the coffee table only to be wiped away by a tattered cloth.
I cry out for the setting of the sun,
That glowing orb which destroys the mysteries,
And robs the seeker of discovery.
I ask,
Are the shadows being driven into the crevices never to be seen again?
There would be no depth perception without them.
A phantom weight is here,
Then just as suddenly as it came,
has gone.
The color is washed away in all the brightness.
What is left is white,
and not much else to write,
But of the sadness of the ways
it takes the texture from the days.
I guess I can understand wanting to shed light on someone else's poem, but when you have to pay to have your own work on the front page, now called "what's hot" you really must be egoic. As I come here to visit my the poets I follow, I will pass over work that  is lighted by the writer just for the principle of integrity. If you were good, you would not be paying. You would be getting paid. I am checking put a site called poetry and quotes. I like it. Please, do not use my work to buy, sell, trade or fundraise for this or any other site.
This makes my point(fake ******* pay for shine)
http://www.politicususa.com/2015/07/10/ted-cruz-busted-buying-books-ny-times-refuses-put-bestseller-list.html
I don't want my work to have to be bought on any list. Please don't buy, sell, trade or use to fundraise for this or any other sight.
Stiletto heels and a push-up bra,
Hair piled high, bleached and toned and all…
That’s the way you used to shuffle around,
But you ain’t been much since your man went to town.

Who’s that a’ worrin’ bout them wrinkles and lines?
Is that the same broad who fell for all his lines?
Well, since he left you all you do is frown.
No, you ain’t done much since your man went to town.

You could’a picked a man who would’a cherished you
Once upon a time when love was fresh and new,
But you picked the one who was known all around.
Now,  you ain’t known much since your man went to town.

(Interlude)

You could’a picked a man who would’a cherished you
Once upon a time when love was fresh and new,
But you picked the one who was known all around.
Now, you ain’t been much since your man went to town.

Whatcha gonna do when the rage runs high,
When the last tear falls cause the well has dried?
Whatcha gonna do when the sun goes down,
Cause you ain't slept much since your man went to town.

What’cha gotta to do to make it right
Is take your piece out of your purse, it’s a Saturday night.
What’cha gotta do is shoot him down,
‘Cause you cry too much since your man went to town.
Please, do not use me work to buy, sell, trade or findraise for this or any other site. I posted an early draft of these song lyrics and was pleased at how well recieved it was. Shortly before I put it on this site I added a stanza before the finale in the second verse, then turned it over to my music partner to work with. Then the computer my work was on crashed. I had not backed up the files. I wanted the lyrics up on hellopoetry because I had just discovered the site, so I gave you the earlier draft that I had. Earlier tonight, while visiting my partner's home studio, I remembered to grab the copies of this, and some other songs he is working on for me. I think the additional stanza adds increase to the momentum of the story this peace is telling. For me, it is the emotional clamax in this version, and the final stanza, though descriptive of an extreme action, becomes the denumont. There is also a new balance of  the architecture in respect to the eveness of stanzas in both verses. (At times, I tend to put great emphasis on the importance of song structure. I have ever since I realized how important structure is to a song.)
I hope you enjoy it.
We live on a mountain
that is made up of our mind
and from the top
we see all
from above the clouds
we feel god
way up in the thin air
and if, I stand on tip toes
I can see my house from there     :-).
True story     L  O  v  E     P@ul.
you know the value of a word
and can place it with great care
you see colors in a rainbow
others wouldn’t know were there
you can find the silver lining
of the darkest thunder cloud
or make a grown man weep
when he reads your words out loud
you live your life wide open
wear your heart upon your sleeve
give your friends the gift of laughter
and console them when they grieve
you take all the pieces of a life
and use words to make the whole
if you're reading this right now
it means you have a poets soul
There are so many wonderful people and poets on this site, this is my thank you for being awesome poem.
War
Corpses everywhere,
The feeling of sorrow and despair,
You can smell it in the air,
The war isn't won,
It has only just begun,
From now on there will be pain,
There will be blood,
Where now is our god?
The smell of decay,
Tears for the deceased,
Tears for the once living in this time of war
Corpses everywhere,
A horrible stank in the air,
A crying child walking through the streets,
Have they forgotten us?
How did it get so far?
Dead bodies of children laying on the ground,
A broken car,
A doll forgotten by her owner,
An wounded man,
This are the streets of our town,
God, have you forgotten us?
We are at war,
And the end is not to be seen yet,
God, wherever you are,
Please do something about the war
whispers,
mean words,
as I walk trough the school corridors
Another rumor

Laughter,
cruel words,
people yelling things at me as I walk by
Another word every day

Fat
Ugly
Gay
That are the words they say

rumors spread through the school,
people laugh at me,
they call me a disgrace,
yell at me

hopeless
*****
*****
Little ****

They call me things,
They talk behind my back,
Never care for what I think,
I am hopeless anyway

Fat
Ugly
Gay
That are the words they say

They try to break me,
think this is a game,
but they don't know,
that I am already broken
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