Might be older, but....

Don't get it twisted!

You Gotta Fight!

For Everything!

Joy comes in the morning?

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Pain greeted me, "Good evening".

Attacked on every side.
The emotional turmoil is so much to take.
Wanting peace to reside,
but the unstable nature is causing my heart to break.

What to do? Who to turn to?
I asked for this empathic nature.
I had no idea that it could be so cruel.

I cry unto God, not a face full of tears,
just prayerful words asking to be restored,
empowered, and meaning for the rest of my years.

His silence is deadly. Yet, the worlds comments overwhelm.
Their judgements plague me... and my mind...
Reminds me of how I fail.

Failed in my dreams.
Failed in my faith.
Failed in my family.
Failed in my love.
Oh from the reminders of my mind, there is no escape!

Yet, here I am. I still remain to be.
Filled with hope. Hope for what?

Purpose.
Passion.
Peace.
Hope to accomplish my dreams.

Beaten and battered, shaken and torn.
Self-esteem crushed. Spirit nearly gone.
I know it's only by Gods grace that I'm able to move on.

Move on to what?  And then, become who?
I've been attacked on every side for so long,
I don't know what to look forward to.

Well, it says joy comes in the morning.




~Flowriter

Please don't be in vain

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Following my nature lead me away from you.
Yet, denying all that I desire, draws me closer too.
When ignoring my feelings and logic, my spirit grew.
Now, here I am...
Waiting...
Anticipating...
Hoping...
Praying...
That Jeremiah 29:11 is true.

~Flowriter

There's a Thin Line.

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Passion unbridled, truth foreknew and ignored
Pain ensued, attitudes change, uncomfortable work environment explored.
The soul jeopardized, because of neglecting the Lord.
Know the way, but strayed from the path, all due to the attempt to score.
Temptation manifested.
Pleasure digested.
Then, only to return for more.

Forgive me, Lord.

No fingers to point, no one to blame.
Simply my indulgence, the cause of my pain.
As it is written in James,
"..each person is tempted when he is drawn away
and enticed by his own evil desires".
The adversary giggles from his planted seed of death
then elevates the fires. Death, his ultimate move.
James concludes,
"Then after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin,
and when sin is fully grown, it gives birth to death".
I pray, dear Lord, that its not too late, and I still have some life left.

Oh Lord, I repent.

I see now diligence is needed.
Matter of fact, I was forewarned.
1 Peter 5 verse 8,
"Be serious! Be alert! Your adversary the devil is prowling
around like a roaring lion, looking for anyone he can devour".
I am to stand on guard... day by day, minute by minute, and hour by hour.
How do I stand? Even for this, the Lord has a plan.
Ephesians 6:11-13,
"Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers,
against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day,
and having done all, to stand."
I know the verses, but now it's time to implement.
But before I take another step forward...

Dear God, forgive me for my sins. In Jesus Christ' name, Lord, I repent.

~Flowriter.

Fresh Meat!

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I have a desire that can ignite a fire into a blaze of poetical flames.
It's not the lines or the rhymes that has my attention
nor is it the paper on the table or the pens position.

It's a hunger that I have inside.

I'm not proud to admit
That I have a need for it
My soul maybe strong,
but my flesh is weak.

I need
I want
I desire

FRESH MEAT!

And right now nothing else will do.

I want to hunt it,
capture it,
and kill it, too.

I can see...

ink stains on my hands,
ink blots on my pants,
tears of blood trail down my face,
and in my mouth there's a taste....like flesh baby!

I sense another poet lurking in the woods...
got talent, writing ability good...
gotta a style that's unique

I'm ready to pounce...

FRESH MEAT!

Here comes the ink...

ink stains on my hands,
ink blots on my pants
another poet down...met his fate,
and in my mouth, there's a taste...like flesh baby!

~Flowriter

Remember?

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Remember?

It was back in December,

Could've been November,

either way it goes

it was in the dead of winter.

We were out in the back, close to the barn.

Me shoveling snow

And you playing with your imaginary friend Tom

I had done cleared a pathway

And started bailing the hay

Y'all were playing in the mud,

what you thought was mud,

Supposedly baking a cake.

Remember that day?

I had to clean you up,

you were smelling like pure pig shit.

I told you that wasn't mud,

But you wouldn't listen,

And you knew Ma would have a fit.

So, I sprayed you with the hose,

snuck you in the house and changed your clothes.

Actin' like nothin' ever happen while steadily hearin' you yappin'

about how I forgot to clean Tom's toes.

So, I told you Tom had on shoes.

'Member that?

'Member, how when Pa came home

He was all upset and mad

Talkin' about how them city folk done moved into town

And was stealin' the little bit of business he had.

'Member that same night, he found out that a pig got loose

and it was killed by some wild animal

And you said you had nuttin' to do wit' it, but we know the truth.

Since you and dem my 'sponsibility, I got the blame for that

And I got your whoopin' too.

I was mad at you for a long time for that

Pa never let me live that down, said I wasn't 'sponsible 'bout nuttin'

Even wouldn't talk to me for awhile.

If you recognize, after that, he started calling you his favorite child.


But now, as I look back.

I'd do it all again,

cus' you my lil sis and I love you

You brought me a hell lot headaches and butt pains,

followin' me everywhere, you da ball and I da chain.

But if it meant,not being back at this old barn,

standing in the place where you played,

I'd do it all again,but this time, some changes gon’ be made,

Me, You, and Tom gon' play.

I ain’t shoveling no snow or bailin’ no hay.

But I guess now since you dead

and we spread your ashes in the wind,

I just gotta settle for you…

being my imaginary friend.

Miss ya baby girl.

~Flowriter