The Painter

The painter looks his canvas up and down

It's black and white and grey. 

The painter looks at his canvas

with bumps and blotches,

edges unable to make out.

The painter takes his brush

and the painter takes his pallet

he paints with bright colors to hide what he has done.

But the bumps the reapear

and the blotches just can't hide

the painter steps back and

And the painter begins to cry

The painter takes his old canvas

and the painter throws it away

the painter takes a new canvas

white, fresh, and clean

The painter takes his paintbrush

and paints a heart for life.

Never Born

If one more person had walked by 
the lady might not have died 

If one more person had stopped and risen 
the innocent man 
might not have been sent to prison 

If one more person had pulled 
the boat might not have sunk 

If one more person 
had stopped and listened 
the young girl might not have taken her own life 

If one more person had talked to him 
the teenage boy might not have tried those pills that night 

If one more person had been there to jump 
the little girl might not have been 
hit by the truck 

If one more person had the answere 
the father might not have died of cancer 

Where were these heros to save 
these lives from being torn? 
where were they they were they? 
they were never born 

I Am Angry

I am angry, and I want to kick.

This isn’t me; I didn’t ask to be picked.

Months of sickness, fatigue, and pain

Poisoning my body again and again

On the outside I smile and say all is well,

But inside I scream and yell

‘What did I do to deserve to my own, personal Hell?’

  I want to hide and I want to sleep,

I want to sleep until this year goes by

Just let me sleep, just let me cry

           

Don’t make me stand up, don’t make me walk

Why all these medicines? Why can’t I just stop?

But I will keep smiling, and I will keep

Lying, to make you happy, I will lock up inside

Don’t ask me why I choose to lie

Don’t ask me why I choose not to cry

I don’t want to hurt you

I don’t want you to cry.

Please don’t say you understand

Please don’t say you know

I know you want to understand

I know you want to know

But unless life took its toll on you

Unless you’ve worn my shoes

There’s no way to tell you what you want to know

You’ll try to learn

You’ll try to know, but my pain is a pain that’s just too hard to explain

Why Is It Raining?

'Why is it raining?'

"because God is crying for

the babe that was chosen

not to be born'

 

'why is it raining?'

'because God is crying for the

woman wounded by her drunken husband'

 

'why is it raining'

'because God is crying

for the teens who died from to many pills'

 

'why is it raining?'

'because God is crying for the

pregnant adolescent'

 

'why is it raining'

'because God is crying for the

life thrown away by the one who thought

it was just to hard'

 

'why is it raining?'

'because God is crying

for the drunkard who hits

his wife and children'

 

'why is it raining?'

'because God is crying for

unborn life, for the wounded wife,

for the drug addicts, for the teens who chose to early sex,

for the suicidal, for the drunkards, but mostly God is crying for the world.'

Have You Seen My Scar

Have you seen my scar?

I know you can’t wait

You tore me up

And threw me out

When you see my scar

Remember, you can’t hide

From the hideous face that’s hiding inside

Look at me now

And watch me shed my tears

This is the truth

I’ve been hiding it for years

This is the scar

You burned upon my face

From what you called ‘grace’

You told me

You were helping me

As you hit my face

And now you see the scar

That is tattooed from your grace

Look at me now

Know it will never change

I hate you

I want you to remember

This is what I assumed

When you guided me with lies

Now remember my scar