Scared to Quit

A step further away,
I wish I could lock myself in today,
This sharp pain in my chest,
When the people in charge don’t know best,
My recourse is, no course
Dwindling funds,
Risking life for small sums,
My head hurts for days,
As I try and find a way,
To just stay in,
And have it not be a sin.

The Witches Fall to Grace

Night of Magic and Monsters
Chapter 5

This is it,
I stand outside the town,
Feeling like it is some hallowed ground,
But it is not the same as when the robbery had played,
It had rotted and there was no mark of the rich displayed.
Hunched over mossy buildings falling apart,
Rotting food and vegetables that smelled like a fart,
Bones of cattle, and dead plants,
This can’t be the town as I continue my rant,
Searching for life but there was none to been seen,
I move through the town to the house where the witch used to lean,
Out side it was decrepit, and crumbling brick,
The grass was high but rotted and sick,
Just then she steps out that woman the witch,
“So you’ve come back to see the destruction you rot,
I hope it is all you wanted and sought.”
She spat as she talked,
I was so full of anger I squawked!
“My rage knows no bounds,
For this monster you have turned me into makes me frown.”
I knew this was my chance to strike,
Waiting for the moment she opened her mouth just right.
And just as she spoke,
I reached out with my claws to choke,
In my grasp now I squeeze with a growl,
I knew this would be my last day as a monster I howled.
But then my grasp was pushed away,
And she grew till I could no longer keep her at bay.
Standing 12’3 with powerful arms,
Spikes on her back were cause for alarm,
The disfigured face full of teeth and spite,
I could see this was a being full of magic and might,
I drew back into defensive position,
Because I was on a mission,
To be human again,
Maybe even to save my friends,
The sword I unsheathed,
And then began to leap,
Into battle again,
I hope this was the end,
She dodge the blade with a fancy flight,
And struck me in the chest with all of her might,
Jumping on me squeezing my neck as I choke,
Her claws where going through my skin with a poke,
Breath running thin,
Barley breathing,
Reaching around for anything I could find,
Just then I grabbed the hilt of my sword in time,
Thrusting it through her neck,
She screamed violently as heck,
And fell to the ground dead,
The sword glistening as she bled,
I looked at my hands which began to grow smaller,
Was this skin I was seeing or had my sight began to falter?
I knew that the curse was broken you see,
I was no longer the rock eater just plain old me.
I vowed to never steal again,
And I thought I saw the sides of the witches mouth bend,
I had learn my lesson for sure,
To not rob from the rich even if your poor.
When I look back the witches curse did succeed,
She had gone and made a better person out of me.

The Paladin of Redhawk

Night of Magic and Monsters
Chapter 4

I arrive in the town of Redhawk,
A flag red with a shining gold hawk,
In search of a righteous knight,
Who if I killed could cure my plight,
The problem was I am a monster you see,
And cannot walk among with out raising a scream,
So I wait in the woods and dark alleys,
Trying to get a glimpse of this armored chumly.
As the day drags on my will starts to wain,
If something doesn’t happen I might go insane,
Just then I see a knight as tall as can be,
With a shield adorned with a cross and tree.
The paladin the one who held the serpent sword,
As he comes closer to the alley I creep toward.
I reach out and grab him,
Squishing his armor like tin,
He wrestles free of my grasp,
But now I have in my path,
I charge with my horns ready to gore,
He leaps off the wall an into a store,
Bashing through the wall I have him in my sights,
This is when he draws his sword to challenge my might,
Swinging wildly there is no way to dodge,
It cracks through my skin I fall back with blood it dislodges,
My tough skin provides no defense against this knight tonight,
This will be the fight of my life if I play my cards right,
His blade flashes again,
I duck and descend,
Swinging a right which he see to clearly,
He moved out of the way and then gets all swirly,
Sword comes low at me,
But luckily there is a chair which he splits as he aims at me,
Next comes a thrust and I sidestep,
Bringing my claw down much harder than a pet,
Stumbling he falls backward,
This is when I try to pin him as the attacker,
Wrestling the sword away,
I see it’s shining blade,
And hope this is the right choice I made,
Plunging it into his heart where it stayed,
But nothing changed,
My appearance was still a rock eater,
My heart grew cold as stone,
But then a mutter in a barely audible tone,
The knight says the witch must die,
And then he expired with a sigh,
It all comes back to the beginning you see,
I must return to the town to stop the one who transformed me,
With the serpent sword in hand,
I finally prepare for my final stand.

Please Stop Hurting the World

Cautious tales of morbidity,

Trubadored facts fake as can be,

This is a hostile take over is putting it lightly,

Our hearts,

Our distractions,

Our pocketbooks,

Our inaction,

Whistling minnows do flounder and are killed,

Snakes do strangle with their lizard men shadows still,

Behind them are not people,

But buildings and dollars,

I still don’t know how they have any followers,

The irate,

The insubordinate,

The uneducated,

The degraded,

Both sides are hated,

because they can’t see that we are both human beings,

Both sides are elated,

By the gains they are making,

With posts of wood,

Whispers from hoods,

Sharp troll teeth,

And even fake meat,

Our energy is wasted,

Our electricity is poison,

We live through a coin slot,

We die forgotten,

Please stop hurting the world,

Please give peace a chance,

Hold the ones you love,

Hugs for those that hate,

They have to calm down,

We didn’t bring a stake.

Fight the power,

Bring equality to this hour,

Help each other today,

Live off the grid in a community way,

Because what was important was play.

Please hear what I say!

The Antisocial Hug

I kept my head down today,

As I walked by the icy stare still seemed to crack my armor, berate my heart, and send shivers down my soul.

The first was an old man whose stare told a story of his own woe, how his business would of succeeded if not for those lazy workers. So all shall be shunned, stunted and maimed, for on that day his revenge became plain.

The second was a woman with hair flowing down, the gaze too was cruel with anger it abounds. Her friend was the lucky one with money and fame, in which one day she hoped to she share but was instead shamed. Told her nose was too sharp, her eyebrows thick, and now she looks down on everyone and critiques their Schtick.

The shuttering terror on felt in this most antisocial day, was unlike any other, even the lights looked dismayed. I formed a bubble, shell, which still through it the gazes fell. I moved away and through but the pressure ensued. My heart fluttered as the next arrived preparing with sadness for the snide.

But there was none before I looked up I felt an aura warm and accepting, was I going crazy or succeeding at deflecting, I peel lightly up at the person standing there. Hoping my guess would be true. It was a faithful friend of which a lot I had been through. They gazed upon me with a smile and said I haven’t seen you in a while. Their arms outstretched, it was a hug I would get. They squeezed tighter and tighter, and the horrors of the world got lighter. The held me till I held back, and I felt relief at last.

So remember there are people out there who care for you. And if you feel troubled you can care for yourself too. You have too arms which will reach tight around, because a hug is love and it’s always profound.

The Party at the End

It’s like a winters night, as the day fades away, temperatures plummeting, snow becomes icy, trees that haven given their last leaves dot the horizon. The air slows to a stop, it’s so cold that nothing moves, and the darkness creeps in like the dirt on top of you.

I had visions of this day and what the tears must say.

I had a legacy to reveal, which should of paid for my meals.

I thought my heart would be heavy at the end,

Maybe there would be a light from above like a godsend.

But instead it was happy,

The relief of the world filled my eyes as I ascended to the sky. My heartache and strife dissipated that night. It was like melting snow as it flows out from my heart like the streams of blood that now depart. There was not one whimper from me, because I lived a hard life you see, full of failures and wrongs. Wrongs sometimes as big as King Kong.

So why should it be celebrated,

Not reborn or regurgitated?

Because sentience is a gift,

Because contemplation is a gift,

And with these I grew,

With these new lines of thought ensued.

My heart poured over the turmoil,

Mind my raced for solutions,

Getting ever closer to conclusions,

And it’s that life is love,

And it’s that everyone needs a hug.

Our furrowed brow beats heartily on the world, and powers beyond our control, bring misery to bear.

Even soaked in blood the marginalized will rise, to proclaim peace and love, even when they have tears in there eyes.

These people are to be celebrated,

Their demand should of been satiated,

But it was not in vain,

even if the powers have not wained,

Because their hearts and ideas were passed on,

Into a new fawn,

One growing with strength,

As the next generation begins to quake.

So even if their life is short we must all partake,

To celebrate hope,

Not to mope,

To proclaim the change,

Even if the strong are deranged,

Because the legacy of life,

Should be to rise above strife,

The legacy of love,

should be given to all above,

So that one day compassion can rise,

To care for all throughout time.

Grouping Mean

Why are others evil,

Why do they throw their hate?

Dismayed by the violence,

Or rushed to the triumph,

Why am I under their shoe,

Like some sort of retail glue,

Their brazen gaze,

And vomitess words,

The hot levels of entitlement,

Their borish bicuspid biting spittle,

As they continue to think the world is their throne.

I never wanted to blame a group in mass,

But this is description of a behavior at last,

Why do some find it ok to force their way,

To fight and to smite and beat us till we are slayed?

Is it that Warish gene that helped us survive,

In the time of giant lizards and monsters combined?

Or is it that they too were once treated this way?

And if that’s the case would another smack change their say?

But alas when I look at the ones like these,

I find zero self reflection,

No care of the self,

Unless the need the status,

And have to tighten their belt.

So I guess I have to address them directly right now,

I know you feel you need knighthood to make people bow,

But the truth is that we need everyone in the end,

And only through compassion can we make friends,

But you’ll want to know how this will help thee,

If you are nice they will want to pay your fee,

If you pay fairly they will be able to afford it times three,

If you care they will not you will see.

When the world works together every one can find prosperity,

A world United is a world without fighting,

We can move pass the wars,

Pass the scores,

And work together,

So that everyone gets better.

The Powered Down Juice Machine

It sits quietly with a hum after breakfast is no more,

There is no shine, even in the twilight with an expression forlorn,

But this machine tell you of the evils of the world in the hotel which it stands,

It can tell you of people to proud, that bite your hand.

As the first literate chauvinist approaches it reveals its stand,

They jab their digit in reveal the blood in a cup grand,

Ignoring the rules and others plight,

You can see how this person is sure they have the right,

Their power they do lord over all around pronouncing they are better even though they are a manure hound.

Next comes a chap who see the dim,

Checks his watch and grins,

For it is just a half an hour,

Till the juice machine begins to cower with a light glow,

At least for people in the know.

This chap does grandly tip,

And with a quip, thanks everyone quick,

And with this sip he gets the sweetest juice ever known.

So why have I regaled you with the tale of the juice machine?

Because with humanities light it separates as it gleans.

The first being the evil and borish of the land,

Spit and smiting sometimes even biting, these are the ones with an evil stand,

They need to be forgotten and have their powered removed,

Because it is these very people that create the word abused.

The second one being kind,

Often over looked by time,

They are the gentle ones,

Who care about to what others succumb,

They need to be raised,

They need to stay,

Because maybe one day,

They can help us to become better in a way.

So the next time you feel the upheaval of a monster trudging on the backs of the primeval,

Look to their tracks and find the one who gave up their back,

Because that was the true sacrifice,

That is the one you can depend on to always be the nicest.

Her Illegal Pants

Looking at jeans in the window

Singing out their praises till tomorrow

Can’t find a way to own them now

Sneak like a lock picking drow

The beauty is so real

Their magic makes them feel

They accentuate all the right spots

And their amazing even their crops

These illegal pants

Make people turn their head

These illegal pants

Turn their faces red

Was the crime scotch free

Should everyone be thanking me

The criminal ways worked today

No running from the cops this day

I vlogged about them

Wrote about them

Told all my friends

But to what ends

The beauty is so real

Their magic makes them feel

They accentuate all the right spots

And their amazing even their crops

These illegal pants

Make people turn their head

These illegal pants

Turn their faces red

But then they begin to fray

I have worn them since Tuesday

My mind starts to swirl

Steal another one girl

Having one is never real

I have a whole stock I can steal

I break in with zeal

But prison will be my last meal

The beauty is so real

Their magic makes them feel

They accentuate all the right spots

And their amazing even their crops

These illegal pants

Make people turn their head

These illegal pants

Turn their faces red

These illegal pants

Make people turn their head

These illegal pants

Turn their faces red

Cranky About Quiet

Moments of quiet,

I sometimes despise it,

Because the noisy that come,

Are often not fun,

They hit with a thud,

They boil your blood,

You want them to go away,

So you imagine their pain,

It’s always like this,

When it is so quiet,

Enjoyment,

Boredom,

Concentration,

Bliss,

Interruption,

Inability to function,

It’s never enough time,

You always had more in mind,

Or maybe your sleeping,

And the footsteps are loud not creeping,

So swell with a frown,

There is no quiet place to be found,

Hopefully it is not long,

Till you find a place with no gongs,

And meditate in it,

So you can find peace when you sit.