I'm jealous of the raindrops that pitter on you
It is not me that quenches your body
The wind that brushes through your hair
My fingers long to be there
The sun that shines in your eyes
Eye contact with the sun
I want you to be the one
I contact
The moon at night
Shining through the windows of your car
As you drive to see her
I should be the moonlight
Shining and smiling upon you
In your passenger seat

But now
In nature
I am the grass
Green with envy
As you step on me
Once more
With your soulless feet

He always cared
or so I thought
until the sheets came in between
what he has never seen
then I realized he didn't care
when at the sheets he began to tear
my body numb and mind blank
he took me away
in a manipulated love I sank

I'm hurt! I'm hurt! I'm hurt!
My heart is racing!
I’m so rattled,
My hands are shaking.

I’m on a bench on a cold winter night.
I would do anything to get away from this fight.
I’d rather be cold, and alone,
Than warm, and at home.

The strife! The strife! The strife!
I am drowned by my life.
My breath leaves me as tears come to me.
I don’t but I do, want someone to see me.

What am I doing?
I’m not depressed.
I guess I just write when I am stressed.

My poems show me how I feel.
I accept these feelings, then I deal,
With my thoughts,
So I can overcome this day.
After all, I know the way.

If only you knew, the things I’ve been through.
I sit silently with my thoughts.
My past made me into, the person whose,
joy quickly rots.

I try to think throughout the day,
but am reminded again.
“God where are you”, I scream,
“Why aren’t you my friend?”

I walk through the door.
“How are you?”, They say.
“I am great.”, is my reply.
I deny the day.

As I write, I ponder of who I am.
But immediately think of my flaws.
The problem with making mistakes,
Is shame comes that you yourself cause.

Who am I? Why am I here?
No one cares! There's so much fear!
Most are afraid of death, but I’m afraid of life.
Because when you are dead,
There is no more strife.

So who am I? Do you want the answer that's true?
You may feel my pain,
If only you knew…...

My hands are tied, I don’t have a knife.
My joy has died, drowned by strife.
                Where has hope gone?

There are secrets screaming, “we want out”,
They haunt me as they scream and shout.
                 Where has hope gone?

No one understands fully, but that’s nothing new,
You just them to be real, you want the to be true.
                 Where has hope gone?

But then they look at me, with loving eyes,
Could this be it? Will hope arise?
My heart is light and bright, like morning dew,
The shame of my past is gone, I can be made new.
                  Is my hope here?

I laugh now, it has returned,
The hope friends give, can cover burns.
Friends help you as they gather near,
They give you purpose for being here.
                    Hope is real.



                  ~Trinity Monks
                                               There is greater help and hope than friends…….

There are days when you want to cry and days where you can just do it.
                                           This is one of those days.

There are times when you feel the way, and times when you see the way.
                                           I know the way.

So come to me dear friend, I love you like no other.
Come to me and turn from friend to beloved brother.

I know what you are going through. I have felt this way before.
You want it to be over, your heart is so sore.

I will do what I can to help you heal.
So, don't push it away, but let yourself feel.

So this is it, you’re ready to fight, you’ve had now many sleepless nights
Eat your M.R.E,  and load your gun, can’t you see? there’s the sun
Ready to go and buddies by your side, men to your left, men to your right
Now you realize your prayers have to work, you have to save him and him to save Her
In your head you picture the worst, alone, brothers dead it’s like you’ve been cursed
You hear gunfire, adrenaline rushes through your veins, you look down and your cameo has been covered in stains
Your thinking “Why does it have to be like this?”, it’s getting you ticked, knowing all some do, is take advantage
All that’s left are your last few friends, you don’t care about yourself anymore, you need to get them to the end
Some men go down, 1 2 3, you’re asking God now, “Why not me?”
Then as quick as a flash, the battle is over and done, it is now the setting of what feels like a just risen sun
A few of your brothers come up and see you with head in your hands, tears down your face, and gun in the sand
You look up to see the survivors faces, then you all  silently head back to your bases
They lower the fallen in, nothing has been more real. Did you even win? This is so hard to feel
To some these things don't matter, in their minds, these guys were just zeros. But as for me, I will honor my fallen heroes.
                                         ~Trinity Monks

The only ones who need to stay throughout,
When they go, your heart suffers doubt.

When tough times come and hope is gone,
family will rise like the waking dawn.

If you need a help, if you need a hand,
they will come and help you stand.

Although some members come, and some members go,
You can still have His love to help you grow.

So even though you think they can be all you got,
Be content and know that they are in fact not.

When you fall, they can help you up,
But there is someone else, if you drink deep from the cup.

Who am I talking about? Do family and Him collide?
The answer to that question is for you to decide.



                                  ~Trinity Monks

Fever


           When sickness strikes the Land, people try to run.

                      But, like a shackle like a band, it has trapped and it has won.


           It sweeps in at a hot hour and tries to ruin everything in its path.

                     With destruction it shows its power and brings its deadly rath              


         When you start to ache, and yellow floods your eyes,

                                   you know you can not wait to say your last goodbyes.


          But don't lose hope now, there is still life,

                                                 And fight the pain of the fevers sharp knife.


          Hope is real Philadelphia, because you are now free,

                                                from the chains of the yellow fever in 1793.



                                                       ~Trinity Monks