Yellow crime scene tape waves and ***** in the wind.

Lifeless bodies now one with the ground.

Bystanders walk by like they see nothing.

They walk by with smiles like this is somehow normalcy.

The flashing red and blue lights, the dead bodies lieing there.

Even a few of the officers seem unphased by the sight and stench of death.

They step under and over the crime scene tape like it's just a job, which it is.

But those dead bodies​ lieing there did not wake up that morning thinking they would be some one's job to clean up.

This isn't normalcy, nor should it be.

Yellow crime scene tape is used far too often.

Bystanders gathered around it talking like they are at the beach.

Respect that life when it's alive.

Respect that soul when it's dead.

Gathering around yellow crime scene tape like it's a water fountain is not normalcy.

One day those bystanders may be gathered around you by the flashing red and blue lights.

Remember, we are all someone.

Treat them like they are.

You, there in Heaven.

You know that I miss you, right?

Miss you baby girl.

Writing grips his soul

His words make haikus and prose

Inspiration grows

They started their cars in the dark of dawn;
to begin their day.

Morning birds ******* a serenade to those that will listen.

Beginning a day filled with
intrigue and mystery.

A fresh 24 hours on a journey with new missions.

The mystery of what lies ahead in the next moments of life can leave one anxious and unsure.

Just remember;
as each sun rises and each sun sets to
live life and endure.

Glass top waters are rare and fleeting.

The world today craves drama and disagreeing.

It's tough to find the elusive desert rose.

As anger and hate now sits where it use to grow.

Lawns once fertilized with love and a watery barrage.

Now just blistering sand with mirage after mirage.

Packing heat as well in the form of cold steel.

Civil wars brink has arrived with bloodshed and bullets as the meal.

End of times/days certainly draws near.

Glass top waters more than ever, so rare.

Remember the times I made you smile.

I'm not dead yet, it's not something I've met.

Remember the way I did things, in my style.

I'm not dead yet, it's not something I've met.

Remember how I had a way of chasing away your fears.

I'm not dead yet, it's not something I've met.

Remember​ how my loving hands would wipe away your tears.

I'm not dead yet, it's not something I've met.

But remember how I would put to words, my thoughts and my wishes.

I'm not dead yet, it's not something I've met.

Just remember how I'd slow life down with understanding and a few kisses.

I'm not dead yet, it's not something I've met.

Please remember if tomorrow my eyes are not allowed to see.

I'm not dead yet, it's not something I've met.

Just remember our good times.... remember how I was me.

We did not know that morning,
that God was going to call your name.
In life we loved you dearly,
in death we do the same.

It broke our hearts to lose you,
but you did not go alone.
For part of us went with you,
the day God called you home.

You left us cherished memories,
your love is still our guide.
And though we can not see you,
you are always at our side.

Our family chain is broken,
and nothing seems the same.
But as God calls us one by one,
the chain will link again.