Being genuinely hurt by someone never really stops hurting.
The pain and grief of that person loom over you, every happy moment, every birthday and present.
Like a dark cloud ever waiting to pour on you like a thick dark, cold rain.
It is unforgiving like a storm.
Unapologetic like the thunder, and strikes like lightning through your very soul.
Your heart can’t even feel the pain anymore, because it stopped pumping long ago.
You are a shell of turmoil and tears.
When the tears come, they are a tsunami of a downpour.
Hot against your cheeks.
Rolling down to your now pierced lips, as they quiver at the touch.
Finally, like all storms, the tears will stop flowing, but they are ever present waiting for the next downfall.
Building up with each new memory that you make without that person. Growing hotter and more angry with each old photo you look at, and each silly item, like a pair of shoes, that person would have liked.
The tears build in the cloud that is now ever-present over your head, waiting to explode one morning again as you drink your coffee and think of that person again.
Then in one single gulp- it explodes again, and the rains begin to pour once more.
So is the cycle of real pain.
I wish for you the stars that light up the nights dark sky
I wish for you the birds that soar as they go by
I wish for you the sun that warms us when we are cold
I wish for you the moon that calms our mind when we are old.
I wish for you the flowers that brighten up a day
I wish for you the giggles of children as they play
I wish for you all the riches buried deep beneath the earth
I wish for you the awe that a mother feels after she has given birth
I wish for you all that is tiny and can fit snuggly in your pocket
I wish for you the memories that fit perfectly in lockets.
I wish for you a cup of coffee as it warms your hands and heart
I wish for you to reach your goals and finish what you start
I wish for you more than anything I own
I wish all this for you because inside my heart you are stitched and you are sewn
There once lived the Troll of Gratiot, who was as greedy as she could be.
She stole from most she knew, including her family.
The Troll lived in seclusion, away from most in town.
She would stock pile her goods around her, and always wore a frown.
Now the old Troll had once been quite different,
or appeared to be, they say.
She once wore a smile quite bright and would laugh often, but it didn’t stay.
Instead as time went on, she turned her back on the good things she had.
She forgot all the morals and values she was once taught,
and the value of family, which is sad.
She curdled up in her greed, now hefty and full of spite.
She’d take coins from the children.
Then she would squander them all the night.
She smoked and lied and stole.
Lying from one tale to the next.
Never realizing what she had done
or caring who it effects.
As time went on she got lonely,
as time has a way to do.
She could have been surrounded by family and friends,
but to all of those she had screwed.
I heard that the Troll was now miserable as
often grumbling and giving a grunt.
For life had gone on without her or her money,
she is alone with no one to confront.
So, don’t be like the Troll of Gratiot.
Think before you speak.
Don’t take what does not belong to you,
and don’t live your life as a greedy sneak.
Little Cabin on the lake,
take away my woes.
With your lemon squares, and comfy chairs,
and a soft cool breeze that blows.
I rock back and forth lazy as can be.
Looking out of the windows
at the swaying of the trees.
Forget about my problems for now.
Gently fall to sleep.
Listening to the bull frogs croak.
Watching the waters of the lake
sway back and forth so deep.
Little Cabin on the lake,
quiet and serene.
I look up to the clouds
and taking a sip of caffeine.
This time with God is precious,
I see Him all around.
From the eagles in the sky,
to the turtles crawling on the ground.
When it is my time to pass,
let it be in such a place.
That I see Your beauty all around,
and leave with a smile upon my face.
I love a cup of coffee.
Smells so bold and so sweet.
Add a little bit of creamer,
to make it quite the treat.
The warmth wrapped around the mug.
My hands reaching across both sides.
The aroma blesses my nose,
in waves, like the lakes morning tides.
I take the first sip.
It glides forth over my tongue.
I feel the heat sliding down the back of my throat,
like a song when it’s sung.
What a gift this drink is to me.
On a day, just being to start.
It warms up my spirit.
It awakens up my mind and heart.
I am happy as can be,
taking in my glorious drink.
I scooch down in my chair,
feeling happy as I sink.
Leave me for just a moment.
To take in this moment, I am blessed.
Before the day get crazy,
and I deal with all the rest.
I am grateful for coffee.
I love my wrinkles.
They show I have stood the test of time.
They reflect all my worries and joys.
They resemble each giggle, each song,
each well-written rhyme.
I love my wrinkles.
I embrace each little one.
They signify each year of my life,
my failures and battles I have won.
I believe it’s great to grow old.
It’s a gift not granted to everyone.
It allows me to enjoy little things,
and enjoy my season in the sun.
So, pardon me if I don’t try to hide my wrinkles with surgery, glitter, and glue.
I enjoy my age.
I am proud of whom I’ve grown to be,
and to myself I am true.
I am grateful for wrinkles.
Little local diner
Dishwasher has a cold
Sue behind the fryer
Mugs are rather chipped and old
Love this little diner
Everyone knows your name
Classic rock on the radio
Menu stays the same
Smell of pancakes and eggs
Old man in the corner complains about his legs
History of America fills the corners of this place
Polish, Black, White, Mexican, a smile on every face
Religion and politics are discussed here, no one cares what side you’re on
Because we are all sitting in the same boat and life in a simple American diner just moves on
Is my pain so less than yours?
Your sign says opened
Yet you lock the doors
Do you hold my hand at the same time you tie my feet?
Is it now that history is doomed to repeat?
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses,
But for many, our equality passes.
Take away my religion, locked in my skin
How long will we wait for the equality to begin?
Bless America and its abundant land
Praying to Allah/God that they open their eyes and begin to understand
What’s right is right and is felt in the heart
This is what America has been about since its very start.
The passage to equality is narrowed by hate from shore to shore
That is leaving so many struggling in the light of the lamp beside the Golden Door.
I did not know you, but, I know who you are.
You are the brave soul that stands behind that bright shining start.
You are the one who keeps me safe at night.
You are the one who stands tall to honor what’s right.
You kiss your spouse and kids each day.
Then head out to uncertainty while they stay home to pray.
You walk into danger and guide the lost.
You put others first, and yourself last at all costs.
Tireless nights and long hard days,
You serve and protect in so many ways.
I cannot pretend to understand what drives you to do this.
I just know that without you, the world would be a miss.
I thank you for all that you do,
as you serve as an Officer behind a shiny star honoring the laws of the Red, White and Blue.
Thank you for your service.