Sprinkle salt on my tongue and call me a nun.
I am the spitfire american
Ridden with oppression
While submerged in depression
My mindset is anything but stagnant/but my mind is ablaze
Inferno, internal, in-ex-plain-able.
I will conquer.
Even if it’s a slim to none chance

But more sad songs and poems
Are written every day.

How sweet is the Shepherd’s sweet lot,
From the morn to the evening he strays:
He shall follow his sheep all the day
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.

For he hears the lambs innocent call,
And he hears the ewes tender reply,
He is watchful while they are in peace,
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.

Can you come a little closer?
Let me undress your wounds
And let your wounds bleed and bleed
Let me help you find some release

I know you’re not used to
Letting others sit in your cult of pain
But I feel your pain too
Please let me feel it with you

Don’t push your pain to the shadow of your mind
Embrace it, reveal it, you deserve to feel it
Please stop smiling with your misty eyes
Please don’t cover your wounds with bandaid lies

Robert told Olive
And Olive told Dee
That Emma likes Peter
But Peter likes me.

And Stephen saw Jamie
Tell Anna and George
That Vicky kissed Edward
And Clarence kissed Maude.

But Peter told Edward
And Edward told me
That Vicky saw Stephen
Tell Clarence and Dee

That Robert kissed Emma
So Anna told George
That Olive likes Jamie
But Jamie likes Maude