[gmflash]

ok...so once i was an aspiring author...really only writing for fun until i had an offer to publish a book i had written based on my personal journal. i was really happy and knew i finally had a chance to turn my and my family's life around...until the publisher i chose to publish turned out to be a joke. so now i share my hobby for free...who knows? maybe there is a publisher that likes to read mustang post too! so here it is...a gift to my friends...the gift of poetry. enjoy.
ps...a few of these poems have been published so no copying! haha.

>The Addiction
>
>it is hard living with the facts of being all alone
>even though I am here in my very own home
>surrounded by a wife and all these little kids
>don’t even think they realize what their father really
>is
>I am a stranger in this house, taking only the
>slightest step
>they know my name, what I look like, but have we ever
>met?
>The prison that I live in is of my own demise
>the habit has finally got me, leaving only eternal
>cries
>lord, release me from my earth bound hell
>release me from my prison, return me from my cell.
>
>
>
>The Missing Piece
>
>building castles in the sand
>laughing and smiling with this man
>eating junk food and staying up late
>watching scary movies, can’t hardly wait
>listening and learning, hoping and dreaming
>talk about life, try to find a meaning
>chat about God, talk more about life
>play with the kids and visit with my wife
>work hard to never let him down
>that’s what it would be like with my father here now.
>
>
>
>Bliss
>
>lying here together
>with our fingers dancing across the water
>our eyes seem to visit a while
>find the soul in one another
>our eyes close to rest a while
>with the meeting of our lips
>my heart seemed to skip a beat
>as we shared a kiss
>God has seemed to smile on me
>as I was blessed
>with eternal bliss
>
>
>The Collector
>
>I have found my way to a very dark place
>Satan is just around the corner
>I come to find he is after my soul
>he says it was just a loaner
>I had a lifetime to make the right choice
>went with worldly things instead
>I should have learned the ways of Christ
>before I became too dead.
>
>
>
>War
>
>the bombs are dropping
>no sign of stopping
>death and gore
>happy homes, never more
>mother is crying
>her children dying
>rich man’s plot
>it can not stop
>can never end
>Armageddon begins
>death has no reservation
>the people have no preparation
>no possessions to keep
>dying in their sleep
>destruction keeps it’s pace
>killing men of every race
>
>
>
>
>Life on the Block
>
>These men as animals
>housed in small but comfortable cages
>to some, a change in the ways of life
>for some, it has seemed like ages
>the block falls to silence
>a curfew has no exceptions
>in a world full of nasty tricks
>this silence is of blatant deceptions
>midnight has come
>not a soul dares to speak
>the strong lay with peaceful dreams
>with a break from their prey of the weak
>the jingle of keys
>boss man has come to pry
>added to the sounds of hungry rats
>the turning of book pages and lightly expressed cries
>morning brings great shouts
>of clean clothes, showers, and fresh towels
>and these men in their cages look forward
>to an inadequate portion of chow
>boss man brings the all too familiar news
>familiar stench of hot cereal and pancakes
>much to the dismay of constant frustration
>but a problem solved for belly aches
>somewhere tonight
>the joy of a new child’s birth
>if only they knew
>he’d be destined for this hell on earth
>but for now, men sit in their cages
>other than a friendly book, alone
>they would be lucky to find
>in their own mind
>a way to be back home.
>
>
>A Short Look Inside
>
>never went to summer camp
>can’t get there paying with food stamps
>never grew up in a family home
>to homelessness it seems that we were prone
>bouncing around from house to house
>roomed with roaches and the mouse
>we never drove all that far
>we never had a working car
>our list of friends tend to stay real small
>in a world full of drugs and alcohol
>for their attention I always strived
>to my parents love I was deprived
>social anxiety and depression
>can’t be fixed with any session
>having bad role models full of bad advise
>this is the story of my life.
>
>
>Don’t Let Me Be
>
>why has God forsaken me
>and left me here to cry
>why have you forgot about me
>and left me here to die
>I would change a lot of things
>I wish I could change the past
>but above all else on my list to change
>your love for me would last
>I have had this struggle all my life
>I would like to know one thing
>where do I stand before your eyes?
>I want the love you bring.
>
>
>
>End
>
>Meadows of flowers have clouded a mind at rest
>millions and millions, if I could count them, at best
>an entire arrangements of colors and shapes
>from the coast of oceans forming paths to great lakes
>across deserts and green plains alike
>they dance together in harmony without a care nor
>fight
>all share greatness and all knowing
>listening, learning, expanding, and growing
>not a need not met, never a feeling of pain
>only sunny, blue skies with the ease of Spring rain
>loving one another without the fear of attack
>what if we too as people could learn to live that?
>
>
>
>Life is What They Take
>
>alone in a cell
>I am so alone
>a residential cell
>I am missing home
>I am a parent
>I am missing my kids
>a cell has no advice
>who really deserves this
>my new home’s scenery
>surrounded by bars and stone
>the time has passed in a cell
>now my kids are all grown
>by myself in a cell
>my only friend is a pen
>alone in a cell
>is this how it ends
>I pray in a cell
>down on a knee
>feeling alone a my cell
>I am begging, Lord please
>dying in a cell
>I can’t hardly breath
>alone in a cell
>finally, an old man at peace

[gmflash]

oops..didn't know i was in 4.6 talk...thought i was in the lounge...if a moderator reads this feel free to move this post there

[Nyt_Muves]

How long have you been writing poetry? Do you still write currently? I write, usually not poetry, but keep a journal like you mentioned doing. I find it particularly cathartic. Very interesting to go back and remember thoughts. Especially a few years later, and looking back on particularly difficult times.

Thanks for sharing! It is appreciated!

[gmflash]

i don't know when i started writing...
i guess when i was about 7 and heard rap for the first time. i was the one of the only white kids in my class and used to get attention because i knew all the words to every song that came out. i started writing little raps making fun of the teachers that used to get some laughs...i guess that's how it started.

i got a little burned out on writing after my publishing experience...but i do a little here and there for no reason other than to kill being bored.

i also have a friend that is trying to start a recording label and i write some songs for him in the spirit of old school rap but cannot be posted here!...that's where my frustrations come out and are a little violent and to the point if you know what i'm saying.