Sunday, April 1, 2012

As the Rain Falls


Tick-tock tick-tock,
you’re running out of time.
The more you think the more
the rain falls.

Tick—tock tick—tock,
the rain isn’t giving up.
You’re still thinking as
the rain falls.

Tick . . . tock . . . tick . . . tock
time seems to pass slower
as you worry. You begin
to lose track of your
life’s time.

Tick . . . tock . . .
you’ve lost your meaning.
All you have is despair, and
now you’ve lost.

Tick-tock tick-tock,
you stare at the rain as
it falls. You stare at the
falling rain as you fall to
the ground where your body
meets the falling rain.

Tick . . . tock . . .
the sound of the clock
is your heart slowing to
a stop. Even if you die,
the falling rain will continue
to fall.
 

Author's comment: This was inspired by the video game Heavy Rain.

Hates


I hate the way you
put your hands on my
face and mash my cheeks
together. I’m 18, I
may be short, but I
require respect.

When you walk behind
me and step on my
shoes. I hate that too.
I actually love my shoes.

Remember that time you
undid my bra? That pissed
me off. Thanks to that I’m
paranoid about the people
behind me.

I hate it when you
talk about me like I’m
a “thing.” I’m a living person
with real feelings.

I especially hated it when
you kept touching my boobs.
Thanks to you, my future
boyfriends will wonder why
I don’t react to their touch.

I hate it when you say that
you could beat me in a fight.
Don’t judge based off of
height and intelligence. I have
true strength; I know not to
go throwing my weight around.

Shakespeare once said
that, “the pen is mightier
than the sword.”
So, here I am showing
my true strength.

No punches or blood
shown. Just pure guts.
Here I am, not crying;
or yelling. Just simply
writing.

I question myself why
I have forgiven you.
You should be counting
your lucky stars, I
rarely give second chances.

Christianity at it's Finest


I stare at the stained-
glass window. The picture
depicts Jesus Christ, well
what most people believe.

I may not be the most
religious person out there,
but I don’t change someone’s
race.

I’m talking about
Jesus Christ.

In my eyes Jesus isn’t
white. He’s either Middle
Easter, or African.

I have yet to see a
stained-glass window of
Jesus, that is either of those.

In December, I celebrate the
Winter Solstice, not Christmas.
Just was born in some other
season.

I do believe in God
and in Jesus Christ.
I don’t think that he’s
the son of God. Just a
prophet of God.

To me, the Bible is
a collection of short
stories that contain morals.

I believe that God
loves us all indiscriminately.
God doesn’t care about your
religion or your sexual orientation.

Why can’t religion and science
be friends?  Why don’t we all
agree with Darwin, knowing
that God made him?

I believe in a world where
everyone of all races are
holding hands, despite their
religion.

I stare at the stained-
glass window in front of
me, as I feel God’s Grace come
down onto me.