(2013)
I’m not angry with you. I am hurting, and as usual, I don’t know why. I don’t know why I cry
A subtle movement, a facial expression, a particular posture, the constant hint of danger; as if he were here again,
The old man, who thinks he’s dying, approached me with these words. I am sorry
I am seven years old. My brother is ten. The beating was brutal. My brother is recovering conscious… I believed he was dead.
I am awash with tears of mourning for what I thought was dead and go… as though a flood of holy water has broken through the stony dam I contrived to spare this brittle…
No words of wisdom. No clever rhymes. Not this day. Something heavy weighs me down.
I was seven years old. I approached the priest in earnest… “I want to take the lord Jesus in… He instructed me to kneel and pray… A week passed.
I am here now. I have removed my outer garments, placed my trust within your circle… I have come because you promised. You told me you would be here
I was surrounded by many desperate, troubled people. There was much drinking, drugging, and violence. Women were being bought and sold,
Who am i to bare my soul with thee… and challenge all that you believe… I share from deep within my being as if my father speaks through me. I see these words of love and merc…
I’ve been so afraid to speak these heartfelt words. This secret has been kept so well, from myself, by myself,
For those who only know oasis it must be difficult to fathom another way of life beyond the wal… amidst the shifting dunes. Those that follow gypsy trails
Cast adrift in an unknown sea. By my pride. Alone Missing you,
Forgiveness? Not on your life. My life was stolen from me. For what?
Weep for the fallen warriors. Weep for those souls considered collateral damage. Weep for the profiteers. Weep for the deserters.