Leather boots and horse clod hooves
trample lives of southern charm,
without remorse or recompense.
Instead, they just bring hell.
Rivers flow from tearful eyes
while cousins scorch the land.
The past is gone and future black,
as our world is catching fire.
Flaming tendrils of broken hearts
stretch long for unfound hope,
through acrid smoke and burning dust
as memories become gray ash.
Sherman’s men, all clad in blue,
leave down Decatur Road.
As humbled souls, we’ll start to heal
from his march down to the sea.
Hear ye, Hear ye, don’t you know,
you’ve been invited, to the show.
Our Boy Scout, true, who worked so long,
will be presented, to the throng.
We’ll gather yonder and celebrate.
If you’re not there, it will devastate.
So bring your friends and meet at three,
he earned his Eagle, for all to see.
Once fertile soil is cause to pout,
devoid of fruit, despite my toil -
withering leaves in loveless drought.
Does your heart reap in other soil?
I’ll worm out truth, cast away doubt.
Sunlight fades upon our date. “No more charades,” she said, “its late.”
Trying to guess her true intent, “So do you think it’s time to go?”
And with a wink she whispered, low, “That wasn’t what I meant.”
For all to see,
I’m plainly there.
Not quite normal,
but no one cares.
On the surface,
a stoic ripple;
In black recess,
no light of day,
in dark I weep.
My voice is weak,
while hurt is strong.
There are no marks,
just feeling, wrong.
I’ll never ask
for what I need.
makes my heart bleed.
If you should look
you’ll never tell,
but insides out,
would look like hell.
You don’t know
who I might be,
unless you spend
some time with me.
Take that chance
and be a friend.
If you don’t,
how will it end?
It came and went, another storm,
much colder than the last.
And in its wake, my frozen form
whose warmth has long since passed.
Those dreary skies lurk overhead,
with clouds of wintry gray.
But in my soul, there is a thread
of hope for Spring one day.
Thoughts creep back to just last year:
Our burning sun shined bright.
We basked in light without a fear
that one might get frostbite.
So muster courage. Go outside.
Wave your hand high, too.
Keep the faith – Cold can’t abide,
today is Hoodie Hoo!
Stand you tall on frozen streets
and shout the cold away.
Then watch the snow as it retreats
and look for warmth to stay.
Out lurking there, a twisted form,
with shadows in the night.
It’s creeping, stalking, following,
while filling me with fright.
So large, this beast, it’s towering -
a monster of great might.
Running fast, there’s no escape,
nor ducking out of sight.
Alas I fumble for the switch,
so fearful of my plight.
I point, then click, and then I laugh -
a tree stands in my light.