People at church are nice enough.They shake your hand and such and such,they ask you, nicely, how you’ve beenand are so very thankful whenyou sign up to help with something.Plus sometimes there are cookies for munching.But if I were looking … Continued
You give new meaning to “stomping grounds”about every other day,and I always have to wonderif you’re here or away.
Talk to me.Tell me what’s wrong,and I promise I won’tcome back with a songabout how it allwill all be fine.I can’t even sayit’ll be better with time,or work, or a smile,or even days on your knees.Because I don’t know.So talk … Continued
Back home before the fireworks,because I have a babyand babies are not freedom.Lets have fireworks on Labor Day and Mother’s Day and Father’s Day,and maybe not so late at night,to celebrate responsibility.
On the eve of independence,our hearts are clenched so tight.With only one thing on our minds,our souls are set to fight.
Beans in the fields,weeds in the beans.God said, “by your toil”and we feel what it means.That nothing is perfect.There’s no magic fairy dustor magic fairy sprayand so toil we must.Some toil on foot,pulling weeds with their hands.Some toil their mindsto … Continued
If this is the lowest price,then, by golly, we must pay it.Just like every thought I think–it’s there and so I say it.
Picking up my own slackis worse than that of someone else.There’s no superior feeling.There’s no pride if I were to tell“Yeah, I didn’t do it then,so today I did it double.”No, there’s just a nagging feelinglike I’ve gotten into trouble.
“Why is my butt crying?”I wondered in my head.Then I remembered I wore the monitorand the crying was in bed.
I miss the days that I remember. I’ve missed the days when I forget. Seems the only days I haven’t missed are the days that haven’t happened yet.