Decisions

Lost Abortion

Folder: 
Teenage Chronicals

A child is formed not fully developed



His life is about to change



And he can't yell for help



His mother can't care for him



As so as she says



She doesn't relize



It gives her un born child pain



Oh they can't feel it everyone says



Once it is done she will regret what she did]



I can't stand it it makes me so sick



All these kids care about is sex



Not of the child there about to make see



It's just a lack a responsibility



They say use protection or a Birthcontrol



Pill If that doesn't work



you can have your un born child killed



Sick Minded i think it makes me so sick



Having to deal with abortion so quick



But don't take my opinion just chuck it out



The door don't you relize your bringing a



Child into our world



Get rid of abortion oh please as i say



It's a diffrent story if the person is raped



And thats why i want my opinion to stay



Abortion say no pro choice is not a question



It is an excuse just have the damn baby let



Him set loose once he is born he will



Remeber for all like almost having an



Abortion and making it his fault



As he grows up you know you made a good call



He will be running around having a ball.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I had 3 friends get pregent and they all had an abortion because they didn't want the child and chose not to use protection. I hope this poem does not affend anyone in any way if it does i am sorry. No wait i don't because it's murder murder. Sincerely Elliot Bush

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Dying

I see someone trip

they are hurt

no one notices

I look away

their pain is unbearable

they can bearly breathe

blood is everywhere

no eyes drawn

she is panting

she lays on the ground

conscience...

here, gone, here

confused

she's cold

no life left

gone

someone screams

they cry

she tripped

but only I knew

I appologize

if I were to have

said something

she could have lived

I have sinned

too late now

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His

Folder: 
closet boxes 2002

You ask me why i'm leaving you

well i'm better off alone

i'd rather be alone then used

not waiting by the phone.



You don't believe i'm willing

to simply lose it all

you can laugh all you want

I don't intend to fall.



How many more have fallen victim

just stop and think for real

I can take the truth

though you try hard to conseil.



Tell me it's not worth it

well tell me then,what is

I refuse to be remembered

as a girl just simply his.

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"Re: Tuesday"

by Jeph Johnson

 

Tammy wrote
Tuesday morning,
good morning
and wasn't sure
if I would even be up yet
but she was thinking about me
and asked me in an email:
-
"Are we still on for this evening?"

_____
Tuesday Morning
in my mind
in my heart
in my soul & spirit
no switches have been clicked

 

Tuesday Afternoon
perhaps sometimes
to be spiritually closer
people must be
physically farther away


Tuesday Evening

WE are still ON
something like this
I am sorry but...
I cannot switch OFF

 

Tuesday Night
no way out
either:
continued
confusion,
contentment,
or resolution.

 

Either way
some sadness...

 

But be sure
(or pray)
the sadness
is overshadowed
by love

Author's Notes/Comments: 

for Tammy, 2002 

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Decieved

Folder: 
closet boxes 2002

This illusion of power

you have over me

is truly convincing

how does it feel to see

that you've fooled yourself

and not just me,

a knowledge corrupt

with a balance that's tipped

as your own undoing

champion to none but yourself

through the answers beneath.



Stare at the surface

in seeking me

of this you fear

risk your realities

of which your decieved,

try to keep this faith

to keep silent is something

of which you don't dare

a life is changed

through the paths you did take.

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SEPARATE DOORS



the front door opens

its creaking sound signals

you're back

too late

i'm already halfway

out

the back door.












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The Nature of Change

With the passage of life,

We find the marriage to the soil,

Whether the Earth the wife,

Or the reception for our toil.



With the light and forces,

Of nature’s unrelenting land,

We carry the chorus,

To lift us by the hand.



It is for a moment,

That the might and grace depart,

But like a sonnet,

Is returned from when’st it start.



And the love we know,

And world we have,

Gives us strength to grow,

And look appreciatively back.



As respect in solace,

And remembering the grace,

Helps keep the promise,

And the sanctity in our place.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

At a time when the only certainty was uncertainty as seven Great lives I personally knew were re-allocated within a year.

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The price of immortality

Folder: 
Poems

As my withered body burns.
My blood filled stomach churns.
Sanguine tears fall to the ground.
My soul is lost, never to be found.
I feel my limbs grow colder.
For immortality I fear I've sold her.

The blood boils and tears.
Through her hollow eyes she stares.
Into my hollow soul unsound
Now I sit down by the river bed.
Regret flowing through my head.
But to the night, I am wed.
My body blistered burns instead.
To plight of the ever piercing sunlight.

I long for her even though she's gone.
Still watching me from her cold stone grave.
Her voice, faintly whispers like a song.
However she is free, and not a slave.
To this torturous world of the darkened day.
Now my life is nothing but a bloody cry.
Sometimes I wish I could join her and die.
But my soul is lost and left unsound.
If I was to truly die and placed beneath the ground.
Never again would my weary soul come around..

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was wrote a long time ago. Everyone thinks of the benefits of not dying, but what about the impending consequences, because every decision has them..

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Staying gold

Folder: 
Old Poems



When we were young and everything was new,

We could do anything we wanted to do

Our spirits were golden,

Our minds were still free,

We could be anyone we wanted to be.

If we were laughed at, or if people stared,

We kept right on going, because we didn't care.

As we grow older we care what they say,

That's when we begin to pack on the clay.

Our clay is our armor; it shelters the gold,

It protects us from pain, but our spirit turns cold,

It keeps getting thicker until it swallows us whole,

Our bodies stay safe as we bury our soul.

It happens quite often without even a thought,

We try to be something, or someone we're not.

We have to decide that the armor can't stay,

We have to be strong; and take of the clay.

And if we are smart, before we're to old,

We must decide to show people our gold,

Because if you stay golden, and know who you are,

In this, or the next life, your soul will go far.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

inspired by the story of the golden Budah

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