Letting Go And Letting God (Vindicate)

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No, no, no!
No to the lies,
And misrepresentations,
People make up,
Because they’re pissed,
Based on assumptions.

**********

Just give it up,
Cuz anyway,
Here we’re done,
Giving a fuck.

Run away,
Go pout in a corner,
You can nurse your wounds,
With your exaggerations,
And wipe your tears,
With your expectations.

What comes around goes around,
Looks like that’s hitting you now,
And that’s music to the ears,
And makes the heart leer.

Come out,
Come out,
Wherever you are,
Face to face,
What are you?
Afraid to lose the race?

Birthed From A Bad Place

Nothing,
No one,
And meaningless,
No good,
Worthless,
And useless.

Insignificant,
Pointless,
And empty,
Flawed,
Imperfect,
And valueless.

Can’t get it together,
Having trouble sorting what I’m seeing,
Like what the fuck,
Shit doesn’t add up.

This sorry hide,
Pushed aside,
No not the end,
But getting deathly sick,
From all the bends.

Going once,
Going twice,
Going fucking crazy,
From some psycho that’s shady.

Unhinged,
Certifiable,
And batty,
Ballistic,
Eccentric,
And unbalanced.

Deranged,
Demented,
And loco,
Unsound,
Delusional,
And irrational.

Little bitch gots a secret,
That needs to be spilled,
Little bitch gots things latched on,
That makes him all wrong.

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Up goes prayers,
To the only one who cares.

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That’s The Best Blossom

It’s an immense field,
Full of flowers,
But you can pick just one,
Never let the wrong one,
Say “I won”.

Don’t settle for,
Second best,
Walk to and fro,
Weaving through the blooms,
Until you’ve found,
The only one,
Who will pass the test.

Is there one flower in the field,
That won’t ever wilt and rot,
And is there a surefire way,
To tell if it’s,
The one you’ve got?

Go stand in the middle,
Then spin slowly around,
See them all,
Before you carefully choose,
So you don’t lose.

Front and center,
Or waving from the wings,
Lying face down,
Or sitting on the ground,
Sporting a smile,
Or wearing a frown,
Only one of them,
Isn’t a clown.

Select one who won’t wilt,
The second it’s picked,
One who will survive,
When taken from its home base,
And placed in a vase.

Not the one who dies,
The second snow flies,
Or the one whose petals fall,
From a little bug’s brawl.

Plot Twist!

Wait,
I thought it was set in stone?
Sewn up tighter than a drum?
…..But now this has come!

In truth,
Something from the situation,
Has always been a little aggravating,
Though a finger couldn’t ever,
Quite be put on it,
What can I say,
It’s always also,
Been plain as day,
And a subject for which I pray.

Now arrives this curveball,
Thrown at me from nowhere,
So unexpected,
But not actually a problem,
And I assure you,
If it’s the answer,
It won’t get rejected.

This can only go,
One of two ways,
And I’m counting the days,
‘Til this is the past,
And good for a few laughs.

Such a delicate decision,
With two top-notch choices,
But only one can win,
And so an invisible,
Battle begins.

To be sure,
Not one knows,
What’s going on,
But me and the,
Almighty God.

With a war in the spirit,
And only one truly right answer,
Letting Him provide it,
Prevents the choice,
From being a cancer.

Soon the solid rock will surface,
None will be winners,
But none will be losers,
His holy will will win,
And forever after,
The life He intends,
Will endure to the end.

Better Luck Next Time

And ugly,
Was all that waited at the door,
Ugly,
Too terrible to mention,
And it could be likened,
To nothing preceding it before.

It started at this door,
Just here to the right,
Slyly it got pushed open,
Curiosity was awoken,
And expectancy was high,
But it revealed only a rake,
With rotten tines that poked and prodded,
Yes that door was a mistake.

Parallel to this door,
Was another door,
Hurriedly it was yanked open,
Desperation for a solution,
From the last spoiled door,
Was the only why for,
But all it brought was disappointment,
And need for one more chance,
To vent and repent.

Farther on down the hall,
We have yet another door,
Cautiously it was eased open,
Sadness was secretly the driving factor,
But time had made for quite the actor,
And all surprise was hidden,
Nope there was no cryin’,
When the lamb behind,
Ran off changed – a lion.

Now the next door,
Way over in another wing,
After awhile it was kicked open,
By a dare made when just jokin’,
Although only nonchalance was shown,
There was a hope deep down,
But all it did was drown,
Because behind that door,
Lay a coiled snake,
Who stole all remaining confidence,
When it angrily,
Slithered away.

One day a secret door,
Was seen up in the attic,
When found,
The feeling to ignore was emphatic,
But the ‘what if’ in the mind won out,
And it was shoved open with a silent shout,
A dog was disclosed,
One who loved to play games,
But who could not be tamed,
Before long it was obvious,
This dog was all wrong.

The door after that,
Is hoped to be the final door,
But where is the location,
And are there guts,
To even open it,
Are questions,
For which no one’s got an answer,
Take heed!
Will behind it be,
A snow-white steed?
Or will more ugly supercede?

Diabolical Agenda

A pretty face,
How does she act,
In such disgrace?

So very sweet,
But hated,
For those moments she acts,
With complete deceit.

Nothing can hold a candle,
To when she flies off the handle,
So glad she’s not the norm,
For she is a God-awful,
Wicked form of storm.

Fake as fuck,
And slimy like,
The fingers of,
A little tyke,
She needs to take a hike.

Pretending to be,
Such a honey,
But she’s got something hidden,
On her back,
That makes her mean,
As lucifer’s queen.

So sneaky,
Don’t ever get too close,
That pleasantry is false,
Just waltz right by,
For she’s looking for information,
To use against you,
On the sly.

To sum it up,
She’s a waste of space,
Who needs to learn her place.

All In Good Time

Good things are happening,
In the realm of the spirits,
It won’t be long now,
Before it reaches our world,
Where I can feel it.

A mind overworked,
By sadness and stress,
But small steps,
Lead to total deliverance,
From the grips,
Of the one most vile.

Tiny things,
Are noticeable now,
Nowhere near,
Where they should be,
But breakthrough enough,
To stop a lot of tears and fears.

A dream here,
A miracle there,
All are answers,
To one of many things,
Lifted up in prayer.

Upon close examination,
Of many occasions,
Lots of things,
Were looking dreary,
Until recently,
Some things started turning,
Toward a new and sunny morning.

Even prayer,
Can hit a snare,
And need an extra boost,
But add liberal donations,
Coupled with a fast,
And it’s a surefire way,
To set stubborn demons loose.

The clouds have opened,
And a drizzle has begun,
Someday soon,
They will let loose,
Like a loaded gun,
And all around,
Wherever I go,
Blessings will soak me,
From head to toe.

Wanted

It would be so splendid,
If Hell would freeze over,
So all the things that it’s said,
Won’t ever happen,
‘Til Hell freezes over,
Could come to fruition.

Like a world not predestined for failure,
One where there are more,
Saints than sinners,
And more to adore,
Than to abhor.

A way to make a living,
That doesn’t require,
Kissing someone’s ass,
And handing them half your life,
On a silver platter.

Where people don’t settle,
For whatever happens along first,
But wait for that which without,
They would die of thirst.

Oh for a world,
Where there are no regrets,
For people said what they felt,
Without stupidly waiting,
As biding your time,
Awaiting a perfect moment,
Ends with disappointment,
That realigns fates.

If only free,
Was really without cost,
But there’s always a price,
And if left unpaid,
That free thing is lost.

A place where time could stand still,
At the snap of a finger,
Or the stomp of a foot,
And then linger,
So we could just chill,
And enjoy the thrills.

If only instead of,
Employing unrelenting backstabbing and gossip,
A person looked at another,
As a soul not a foe,
And realized that’s the only way,
To make Heaven their home.

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

Your head will become,
Quite the circus,
When everything starts to surface,
It’s totally bizarre,
How it comes from nowhere,
But also everywhere.

No matter who you are,
And where you’re coming from,
You’ve seen some shit,
That you can’t forget,
We pack it away,
Until when one unexpected day,
The feelings left behind,
Spring forth in our mind.

The choicest ones,
Are always amusing,
They’ll take you on,
A wonderful walk,
You’ll smile all rosy,
As if smelling fresh-cut lawn,
Or cinnamon buns.

Some seriously sadden,
So sharply and so strongly,
When you go back there,
Bound wounds open afresh,
And you become such a mess,
That it’s a tad in doubt,
If you’ll manage to crawl out.

The worst will beat you down,
Make you good and angry,
So you wear a frown,
Your blood will begin to boil,
As you recall being treated,
Like a bed of rotting soil.

Once in awhile,
There’ll be one that amazes you,
And makes you wish to travel,
Back to when that one particular,
Was a fresh-made smile.

All the while you’re being assaulted,
With this reminiscing,
Some disappointing,
And others satisfying,
As these recollections flood you,
Mind, body, and soul,
Don’t let them take total control,
No,
Not even the happy moments,
Or you’ll end up going,
Down a deep and depressing hole.

Shock Of The Century

How are you doing lately?
Hanging on by a thread,
Why’s that?
Because I feel like being dead.

Oh no! – Why?
Because that one’s been sly,
Doing what?
Turning his back, making me cry.

Oh! The nerve!
I hope he gets what’s deserved!
Same here!
Although that’s also my fear!

How so?
Because I never chose,
For him to become foe,
Oh, indeed?
Yes – for real,
I rather picture him,
As a knight with a steed.

That sounds like quite the conundrum!
Yes, it’s a problem!
Whatever will you do?
I shall pray,
For he’s one of the precious few.