About Me

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Atlanta, Ga, United States

Friday, August 28, 2009

Without A Father Part 2

It's one of those moments,
That i hate to bear,
To watch a female child,
Lonely, with no one there,

Mothers are wonderful,
Grandmothers tend to put a heart to rest,
But nothing comforts a daughter,
More than her father's chest,

To nestle in truth,
To feel secure,
His words provide comfort,
His voice remains pure,

And so I watched from a distance,
How it affected her timid heart,
Cupid threw no arrows this day,
No, there were no loving darts,

A spotlight of darkness,
Clouded a day of pure sunlight,
Though she smiled at me,
I could tell it was by fight,

Therefore I embraced the little angel,
I knew it was unfair,
For her to behold a life unfit,
Without her father there,

She poured her heart out,
Upon my chest with tears,
I tried to hold mine back,
But her tone pierced my ears,

And so we both cried,
Under the golden moon,
Which turned into songs of comfort,
No matter if out of tune,

She pecked my cheek,
With both arms she hugged my neck,
I'd gained a friend this day,
Today I gained respect,

By far I'm not her father,
Not even the next in line,
But I'll always be there for her,
Making sure that she's fine..

Sunday, August 23, 2009


I raced out of the house,
Right after I grabbed my coat,
Slinging the door open,
My footprints in the snow,

And so I search for her steps,
Upon the cotton ground,
The wind is stirring up a temper,
If you listen, you can hear the sound..

Sweetheart I'm coming,
Coming am I sweetheart,
Upon the dusk of the evening,
Right before it's dark,

And so I take a second to listen,
For I know my woman's pace
I study the muddy snow,
Until I see her face

And how be it,
That she sat upon a boulder,
Steady, and without movement,
I approached her by touching her shoulder,

And she's cold..
And she's cold..
My beloved woman's heart is full of ice,
I need to make it right,

I yanked out of my shirt,
As many times before love making,
I put it around her tightly,
Her steady frame begin it's shaking,

Unsure if it was anger,
Or perhaps it was the chill,
I didn't expect her to speak to me,
I just wanted her to feel,

I'm here, I'm here,
I lifted her from the stone,
Carrying the young lady back,
Towards the place that I call home,

No words proceeded,
From the lips of her mouth,
No action repaired her feelings,
But she did hear me out,

As I walked into the house,
Next to the fire she abode,
Her heart never changed temperatures,
She was indeed so cold..

And she's cold,
And she's cold..
My beloved woman's heart is full of ice,
It's up to me to make it right..

Friday, August 7, 2009

We all win..

How easily we tend to forget,
That she's a lady,
Not a possesion, not a punching bag,
She's the woman that carries our baby,

And how easy it is,
To forget her emotions,
Changing in the blink of an eye,
Without a given notion,

And is that wrong,
That we must make an adjustment,
Instead of reacting in aggression,
Or engaging in an arguement,

I know, I know,
I hate it too,
But the babies depend on us,
They need to know what to do..

And so it's on us,
To bring our women back,
To a place of peace,
To get us all back on track

For in the end,
She'll love us again,
The kids will smile at their mother,
And with peace and quiet, we all win..

Monday, August 3, 2009


I made the trip purposely,
Just to keep in touch,
And to think of what I might see,
Is always twice as much,

Under bridges,
Under cardboard,
Severe winds casted,
Far from what they've asked for,

Little children stirring,
Old men shake hands,
Beer bottles rolling,
No one day is ever planned,

Often hungry,
Always embracing a sign,
Making it very known
What things are on their mind,

I just came to chat today,
For the sake of conversation,
A day away from luxury,
Today is my vacation,

Sometime's it's all that's asked,
Just to show a little love,
All of them haven't been there long,
Nor is everyone on drugs,

Instead they've lost their jobs,
No family to depend on,
Mother is hidden in a created domain,
In the chrubbery trying to be strong,

And how might we ever judge,
Lest our last bite come upon us,
Lest our families be casted,
Upon the "wind blown" dust,

So the next time we complain,
The next time we tend to judge,
Think about how the dirt doth feel,
Especially when it's mud..

Saturday, August 1, 2009


I said hello,
Yet it was obvious that mother wanted more,
She said "lets try this again,"
Indeed I asked "what for?"

There he stood,
Dressed pants, and a button down,
A skinny tie, and shiny shoes,
His favorite color just might be brown,

You see,
I'd traveled this road a time or two,
They come into my mother's world,
And they were good at leaving too..

My mother,
Was indeed searching for a bliss,
And though I'd never utter such a thing..
It doesn't always come by a single kiss..

Even I knew this,
But father left her obscure,
And by these random nobody's,
She'd swear she had the cure..

These random nobody's
Could see mother's pain by far,
To the extent of watching her door,
Aware that it was indeed ajar,

Father and mother,
Were freshly separated,
And what door can stand such blow,
And what fence might remain gated?

Instead they attempt to climb,
Her rope of anguish,
Promising sweet nothings,
In some loving language,

And so I protect her,
Even though she despises it,
In hopes that she,
Shall utterly abhor, and stop this..

Yet she says that she needs love,
And who can argue such demand,
Therefore I work with these random nobody's
Until I see a man..