A Town Called Hell

In a town that is a prison,

No way to expand.

No one to talk to.

Nearly every friend is gone or conformed.

The closest to paradise is like a journey.

I can only shrink in my own box.

Long have I wish to reach that golden place.

But for now I wait for my haven.

A Belle So Far Away

I miss you my sweet.
Off on my native journey,
Your smile is always on my mind.
You wait for me at the hall.
As your girls remind you of me being there.
I keep a picture of our happiness
To keep me sane.
I look forward to our meet.
And to hug you once again.
Until then,
Remember our soft embrace of our hug.

The Victim in the School

A folk walking down the halls,
Vultures trying to pick on live meet.
The scurvier runs and runs,
But cannot escape.
Nothing to seen but cacti and ignorant chameleons.
If one picks off the bird, he is seen as a terror,
But asking is like communicating in a language unknown.
The wayward must think not of the perception of others,
But the survival of self.
As long as he does not act like an atom bomb.

The Gift-giver

A man came to village
All covered up in scarf, hat, and coat.
He came bringing bundles of joy to the people.
He was adored as hero,
A saint among men.
Kids behaved as angels,
To be given the gifts.
They showed their love.
They honored him,
And he felt like he was with family.
Then the requests got too much,
Too detailed,
Too elaborate,
Too big.
Then the people never cared,
And when they did,
They asked what side is he on?
Even when he said everyone,
It was not enough.
The stranger was scared,
Have they taken him for granted?
See him as a mascot, not a man.
Soon he left forever,
Asking if he gave the world,
Would the still want more
And drive him, then,
Into insanity and hatred.

The Season of Peace

It is a season that the cold air
Can bring out the warmth in people.
A couple sitting by a lit fireplaces,
Snuggling and kissing with mistletoe.
People laughing and chatting together over some hot toddy.
When a little clank means so much to person in need.
When people who do not know each other
Are brought together in joy.
And even as the ball drops,
The time will soon come to lovers.
When a little card of red can be sign saying, "I love you."
When the softer tones of togetherness meet in a dance.
A season when those close spend time with one another.
If we can have it for a season,
Why not a year?
Or life?

The True Gift

One day to the big day,
And I am confused as Sonny the Bird,
What do I give one I love?
Do I give her something at a whim,
Only to end in an air ball?
Do I make something,
And not know why?
Do I send nothing,
And say I?
The true gift comes from knowing the person you love.
Who she is,
What is her,
What is best?
If you think nothing,
Then you are less creative as simpleton,
As even they know art.
Embrace the mystery,
Love the search,
Respect who you give.
Because gifts are like art.
You have to paint the right picture,
Make the sound sculpture,
In order to make the masterpiece.

Holiday Definitions

When we celebrate one,
Do we really need to decipher?
The pluses are different,
Responsibilities vary.
Decorations come in many forms.
The performance is unique.
The why is so many.
But one is clear,
We all love,
We all give.
We are one.
Let us not divide our love.
This is one big party,
With an ending that makes the ball drop.