Girls who Smile

Smile! Welcome Back =]

(Photo credit: blentley)

She has an easy smile. Different light.

Other men toss and toil. She shines bright.

She can’t understand the struggle that binds.

A different perspective, a wasted life.

Time won’t heal your wounds. Scars are eternal.

Forget-me-nots ignorant of have-nots.

The privileged station is undeserved.

Children in the eyes of suffering men.

Longing for caresses and hands held tight.

They kneel before queens, but won’t challenge gods.

Detestably aware, unspoken words.

Crown and glory for salvation of none.

Bittersweet moments. Losing momentum.

The bear trap closes, locks the soul in tight.

Forbidden fruit is the rotten apple.

Sworn fealty to the innocents who cry.

Forgotten miscreants, subjects of pain.

Trying to get by in your world, so cold.

Shallow, hollow, farcical bed of lies.

Face in the mud, the dirt covers slowly.

Until all that is left are our remains.

Untouchable for a moment in time.

Only in thought. The message was not passed.

Carry on the burden, the weight’s not bad.

Only time can heal the wounds, while she smiles.

No Place Like Home

Homeless

Homeless (Photo credit: fotografar)

Cardboard box man, why do you sit alone?

When nobody pays you mind, takes you home?

Your flimsy shelter, life uncomfortable.

Covered in blankets, filthy, detested.

Why do you scrape by when you are ignored?

If nobody wants you, why do you live?

Gathering the things that others don’t want.

Miscellaneous collection of greed.

They threw you away, so you’ll take their trash.

You live below, watching them step in shit.

So deeply mired in their precious lives.

They forget, we are all prone to suffer.

So nobody’s value is more than yours.

The clinking and clanking of no progress.

Of society that wallows in debt.

Underpaid souls who wallow around you.

Forgetting to share what we understand.

The human condition is not alone.

Yet we fail to embrace siblings not ours.

I see you there, and I worry for me.

A couple missteps and we’d be the same.

I think you know, and your eyes show weary.

You think, “If only… That could have been me.”

Decisions made by those crueler than me.

Would it be so wrong if we changed places?

Fallen from grace

What do I need to make you look my way?

A castle, a kingdom, a world destroyed?

Have I not done more than anyone could?

Started behind, ran toward the front in time.

It’s still not enough. Not a single glance.

Not a smile or giggle. Second chance.

Transformed my size, my mind is better yet.

Secure, with flashes of competence seen.

Undervalued, not a diamond, just rough.

Fallen

And the nothingness consumes. Hollow me.

A brush of her hand, a single thought shared.

Indicators unbreached, sunken in stone.

Wield the sword with so many questions still.

A warrior without battles and hope.

A flower on the wall, ground into paint.

Covers surface, but there’s nothing within.

Overlooked and unknown, can’t be worse here.

Gawks and stares, welcome more than the others.

It’s unfit, unclean, unworthy to you?

Understood and accepted, but no, why?

There’s a piece missing, I just have to find.

Encircle the world, let it out of sight.

Close with the enemy. He lies within.

Forsaken, unchosen. Losses piled.

A masquerade with nothing on his face.

Unchosen

Hidden from the world for days uncounted.

The monkeys don’t know where he is hiding.

Maybe he’ll emerge when the sun comes out.

Perpetual dawn, he’s scared of shadows.

They haunt him like memories, unchosen.

He sits cross-legged, sweeping piles of sand.

Siting

Blows them into dust with a smack of hand.

Nothing, no one, nobody anymore.

A hand extended to help, sinking low.

Outstretched fingers, nothing clasped, nothingness.

Returns to his bottomless pit and cries.

“If they’re not needed, I can cut them off.”

His hands, his only friends, now they’re gone, too.

Sanctified yet unholy, reject faith.

Accept no fate that you did not create.

Now he walks through the jungle, lost and found.

Historied battles, I thought we had won?

Yet he still walks alone, aiming his gun.

So much evil, can’t purify their sins.

Wreaking havoc on the victims again.

Take no more, but give even less. Shut down.

They can’t beat you, find your hole in the ground.

Ages upon eons, never come back.

There is no love, no change, no victory.

Presence of mind to end life and himself.

Silent and unheard

Silent and unheard, the voice of my soul.

Weak and timid, can’t change the world like that.

Old, Weak and Pregnant

Old, Weak and Pregnant (Photo credit: Kees & Sarah)

Nobody speaks because nobody cares.

Exclusive events, no room for the whole.

Locked outside, so the screams cannot be heard.

Lack of care, lack of might. Close your eyes. Fright.

Alone and trembling, heart turns to stone.

Bring the terror when patience doesn’t last.

A lesson learned. Uneducated mind.

Cause and effect, and none to see the tie.

Let go of philosophy. Mourn his death.

Salvation attempted. A martyr scorned.

Protected unimportant, suffer, too.

Nowhere left to roam, influenced by storms.

Madness and destruction. The end is near.

Closer than you think. Burn your calendars.

Smiling and happy, wipe it off your face.

Murder done, favor won, burden lifted.

Till the fields until you remember us.

Broken backs made strong. Hand grips your throat now.

Choking for life undeserved at your best.

The cows come home, but the children are gone.

Still no end in sight, eyes searing with pain.

Crimes forgotten, but committed the same.

Nobody close pushes you off the ledge.

Ignored

Sometimes I feel like cold snow after a snowfall, clinging to a windshield to escape the cold winds.

I’m afraid I’ll someone will brush me off before I find the warmth I seek from inside.

My sand brethren are tossed from the desert like dirt by the sandstorms.

Dust Storm

And they too rest on windshields, seeking shelter from the blustery winds.

But they too will get brushed off, before they find safety or calm.

It is hopeful that when they are tossed again by the sandstorm, they will find a shoulder to rest.

Before they are sent aground again by one who does not wish them there.

A toupee flaps back and reveals its owner’s true beauty.

Creating an illusion that is no longer a disguise.

Now in the rain and the darkness that must come with ominous, his umbrella attempts the same trick.

It must be forgiven for merely turning itself inside out.

We have no past other than memories, because we are the future and tend to forget.

Others may remember, but they are the lucky ones who cannot be forgotten.

How do I become one of them?

Nobody answers because nobody’s listening.

Maybe I should run away to a faraway place, where life is fantasy, and nobody knows the difference.

Who could find me there?

I pretend that somebody’s listening, and they give me the answer I’d like to hear.

I could go even further, to find a place where everyone supposedly goes someday.

I don’t want to go to a place like that.

Whoever came up with the horrible idea for this place surely can do no better there.

I should just wait, like a tree, or that man who slept beneath one.

Life size bronze of Rip Van Winkle sculpted by...

He surely didn’t know the difference.

Someone would surely find me there, and expose me to the world’s denials.

Invisible powers activate when least needed and most heeded.