Someday you’ll love you.
From the sparkle in your eye,
To the pitch of your laugh,
Even the color of your hair.

You will love every part,
From every wrinkle,
To every crinkle,
Every part of you.

But they will try to tear you down,
To make you frown,
To make you think you’re not worth it.

But darling you listen to me.

From the way you walk,
To the way you talk,
You will be mocked,
But don’t you listen.

From your weight,
To your height,
You are all wonderful to me.

Maybe one day you’ll see,
The beauty I see.
The way you were made,
So beautifully.

But until then,
Do not forget,
On how true beauty,
Comes from within.

In the currency of emotions
heart break and
heart gain
always
lead
to
c
h
a
n
g
e

(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.

Cold sunlight
River Thames shivering
chopped glass

Born of Earth
To return to ashes
In the lightening span
We call this life

I pray
My Master Divine
To make this little light
I call my life
Your own song

Bless the last note
To fall
As dust
At Your Lotus Feet

Anybody listening?
Gunshots sound
children fall
bullets fly

down crowded halls

families wail,
               families cry

for their loved ones dead
their loved ones gone

             ...yet life goes on

shouts of terror
screams of fear
this time eight (?) are dead

don't they hear?

shot in the heart
shot in the head

they're dead,
               they're gone

...yet life goes on

prayers and condolences
such empty words
sent by our leaders
                     ...afterwards

after they're dead,
                  after they're gone

and life goes on

don't see,
            don't hear,
                        don't speak
like the symbolic three

"It's not the time to talk"
Good god, when will it be?

Too late when they're gone
                       ...and your lives go on!

Be composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt Whitman, liberal and ***** as Nature;
Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you;
Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you,
do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for you.

My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make
preparation to be worthy to meet me,
And I charge you that you be patient and perfect till I come.

Till then, I salute you with a significant look, that you do not forget me.