Hell came and left at dawn.

Bright colors ran away.

I rethought what I had on.

Faced my fears and met the day.

Shivers up my back are gone.

Memories had their say.

Changes spoke, I don’t belong.

Bright colors ran away.

I told you push comes to shove.

Run and fight another day.

I told you I don’t believe in love.

Bright colors ran away.

Repeat and rinse…

Steven Jacks died on Thursday in the morning a.m. at four.

He died while he was sleeping. He’s not coming back no more.

Maria is a social worker down at my daughter’s school.

Maria shit the bed today and she broke The Golden Rule.

It’s been that kind of week. I’ve been restless in my head.

Taking on all challenges. We just pray and bury dead.

Steven was a native. Walked barefoot in his pain.

He said he loved my daughter and she loved him back again.

Maria make fake smiles. And for her actions makes excuse.

She’s supposed to help the children and not aid in their abuse.

It’s been that kind of week. I’ve been restless in my head.

Taking on all challenges. We just pray and bury dead.

Charles Bukowski is credited with asking one of my favorite questions…

“Do you remember who you were before the world told you, who you were supposed to be?”

‘They never told me who to be. The world didn’t care enough, which by omission made me very lucky.’

Most times all it takes is a smile.

Delusional hope will follow.

The world will once again be a thing of joy.

Oh it’s not as bad as it used to be.

Now I just nod and walk away and say thank you!

Do women truly know their powers?

She is broken by life and she will never recover.

She said she is an artist.

To be an artist shouldn’t one have some light?

There’s a lot of lonely out here…

Oh I could be wrong.

Maybe people are just mean and angry, Stewing in raging silence.

I know they have opinions, I read them on the internet.

But not here.

Here on the bus they keep that shite to themselves.

You used to call me Brother and sister I don’t know why.

Once  you were my Sister but that is long goodbye.

There’s a scar above that blister and I know you’ve had it tough.

I don’t know how to let this go but I know I’ve had enough.

I’ve taken all I’m taking, all the rest I’ve left is yours.

There’s a message in the leaving, a hope for finding cures.

She said, “You’re the most kind and generous person I’ve ever met. “

I said, “Then why do you tell people that I’m abusive. “

Her answer was at the ready: “Your kindness and generosity prove that you’re abusive because nobody could be that kind.”

OW!

There is a heart shaped carve in rosewood.
There’s a line drawn in the sand.
I pray there on grace and wonder,
and there’s a baby, she’s in my hand.

There’s a virtue called forgiveness.
From a force we can’t see.
It’s how I deal with darkness.
Of how I feel when you’re with me.

I struggle now to hear you.
Seek approval in your eyes.
I hate you for your beauty.
Like I love you for your lies.

It’s a sad sad situation
Department sad but true.
You fear that they are coming
And you fear what they will do.

It’s a sad sad situation
Under heading sad but true
You fear that they are coming
No one is coming for you.

Dennis Mantin