Calling Out In The Dark

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Calling out in the dark, Angels, cast out the ugly
I’m weary of this life, I can’t deal with it anymore
Where is the magic to fuel us through this existence
We surely are in need of salvation, I fervently implore
I fall to my knees, with my face up to the Lord
“Wrap me tightly in your perfectly loving Grace”
There is no place better suited for a tainted soul
I know He’s here, my anxiety disappears without a trace

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I’m Tired, Weary, Fatigued, However You Want To Call It

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I’m tired, weary, fatigued, however you want to call it
This world is tearing itself apart, with no end in sight
Neighbors can’t stand the appearance of each other
If we don’t swerve, we’re all going to face the fiery night
Reject hate, reject them, reject the world’s system
I don’t care if kindness long ago went out of fashion
Don’t accept your options, make your own way
We need return to art, return to love & compassion
‘They’ are anyone who’ll tell you we can’t survive
Without stooping down to unconscionable degrees
Rebel, refuse & reclaim enlightenment & love
Lead ourselves away from their dysfunctional societies
God reserves a place in Hell for those who spout hate
Whether you believe in Christ or what Buddha taught
Love doesn’t see the differences between us
We can do better; a peaceful way must be sought
Politicians are no more than door to door salesmen
Fraudulent purveyors of the American dreamscape
But we, the silent underground, emerging each day
Fed up with their vision, proof that heroes don’t wear capes

Fresh Lipstick & Attitude To Match

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Fresh lipstick & attitude to match
The pretty piano player; a punk rockette
The domestic goddess with a need to be clean
Living on the edge of the cosmopolitain set
Hoarding her guilty pleasures fiercely
The moral ambiguity is a stubborn crutch
Ignoring nature’s perfectly placed laws
But she’ll only accept the light’s soft touch
Wearing an evening gown at her elegant leisure
Within her mind, no better way to take a selfie
She’s blunt with her standards & expectations
But lucky for us all, my poems are gluten free

The Pressures Of A Creative World

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The pressures of a creative world
The mind’s eye reflecting society
Sculpting words to fit this day
My life better when wrapped in piety
But you must choose your own path
No one can tell you what you need to do
Your experiences are solely your own
In the end, your happiness is simply up to you

I Don’t Think You’re Better Than Me

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I don’t think you’re better than me
Running tired fingers through my hair
You’re an apparition of your feeble mind
A moment forgotten – vanished in the air
Though your hatred is real enough today
I’ll gently ask you to keep your composure
A gentleman shall not tolerate outbursts
Besides, your ineptitude is dying of exposure

Glamorous Morph Of Atmosphere

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Glamorous morph of atmosphere
Pretty people falling in place
Chamber pieces held tightly
Morning’s warmth upon your tired face
Hope today may be better than
All which came disappointedly before
Recreating ourselves into something
Giving opportunities to be much more

Endless Hours

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Endless hours of love on café sidewalks
The world was beautiful & we were free
We were together; we were holding hands
& we were as happy as we could be
But then we were separated & deprived
The days are not so lovely & bright
I shall never let them get the better of us
For I shall spend every day in this fight
When they ask me why I can still smile
‘I know what true love is’ will be my reply
This world is weak compared to my love
Know that you are always the gleam in my eye