THE FLOWERS ON YOUR GRAVE

I see the flowers on your grave; White bright and shiny; I see them with a touch of elegance, And fragrance, That reminds me of your class, And beauty, Bewitching smile, And an infectious laughter, And your love for life; The flowers on your grave, Tell a story, But not the whole story, The joy

SOLDIERS STILL

We are soldiers still, Fighting for a commander in chief Who doesn’t know us, May appreciate us, Or not, We are soldiers, Fighting a war, We know not, We are soldiers still, Armed with the letters of the keyboard, And so we tweet Away our wits, Tribe is the stripe, Blue or yellow, We get

Respect the old

Respect the old, Yes, I was told, For so much they have seen, Many places they have been, They know when it’s wrong, As they have had the song, And they know when it’s right, As they can see it shine bright, Listen to them, Without a word of shame, Yes, they do not know

Walls

Cries in the walls; Darkness within the walls; Crips in the walls; The walls that we keep up; To feel safe; Wanted and protected, The walls of friends, And family, The walls we hold onto to cover our shame, Clothe our nakedness; The wall of pride, That can never let in defeat; The walls for

Drag Me to Church

Drag me to church, And teach me to pray, Teach me the word, So that when I am old, May never depart from it, Drag me to church, And stick on me the do’s And the don’ts Threaten me with the fires of hell, And bemuse me with the pleasures of heaven, Drag me to

Back at You

The good you do, And the evil you entertain, The silence you keep, And the louder you get, The bones you break, And the bridges you mend, The laughter, And the cries, All back at you, A song that will never end, An echo, The song that gets back at you, Whatever you give, Then

Flow and Go

Like a river down the hill; Goes with the bill, Up and down, The village to the town; Flow and go, Throw the open door, Never enough, But makes one cry or laugh, Some jingle and other fold, Some build and other mold, But it flows and goes, Through the peace and wars, From the

Day After Tomorrow

It’s funny how things go, I can see us grow, From the kids we once, At a school dance, To a man and a woman in love, Together like the doves from above, And it’s not about today I dare say, Perhaps a day after tomorrow, In a world with no sorrow, Yes, we can

The Man in Me

The man in me, As strong as a sycamore tree, With the courage of a million, And the might or a trillion, Strong and brave, In and out of my grave, I am a man, And so I learn, No weakness, No meekness, I walk in the air, Always in a flair, Take take take,

The face of the World

I look at the face of the world, And behold, I can’t help but hide, Mine face, Not just for the tide, And the ride, But for the mad; The face of the world, That holds the pain And the bondage of a child, Crafted by the pain of her parent’s death, The bondage of