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When my frustration leads me to write, some things may come out that I wouldn’t normally say in a non-frustrated moment. But in the last couple of days, I have had some things said indirectly and directly to and about me as well as other family members that have really put me on edge. There have been some hurt feelings, I guess, about happenings and situations that I had no prior knowledge of ever even existing. When you live in different states from immediate family, you don’t always get to share in life happenings. Life, time, and distance don’t always allow for you to be a part of things you would otherwise be a part of had that distance not been there.

With that being said, every person in this world has just one life to live. What you do with your life is yours and yours alone to decide; after a certain point. When we get to a place in life when we can talk to people any kind of way with no sense of morals or respect for either yourself or other people, that’s a huge problem; especially when that person is your own mother. We all have shortcomings. None of us are perfect. But no one has the right to speak to their own mother in a degrading or disrespectful manner. I don’t care if a mother never gave her child two nickles to rub together, because if she never gave him anything at all, she gave him LIFE! He should thank her every day for giving him that life, because it could have easily gone the other way. People like to say when they’re in a bad situation, “I didn’t ask to be here.” Well guess what, none of us had a choice in whether or not we were going to be born. GOD put us all here for a reason. Every living, breathing human being has a purpose. Some don’t know what their purpose is yet. Some people may know, but are not sure about how to embrace it and be that person God wants them to be.

One of those family members said that “the definition of family in the literal term simply means any group closely related by blood. But it also means a group of individuals who closely share a common attitude, interests, or goals.” The only part of that definition that describes his (and several other family members) relationship to me is the part of being closely related by blood. We most certainly don’t share a common attitude, because I would never have the audacity to talk to my mother, grandmother, or any other adult family member the way he speaks to his mother. He says I misinterpret his hurt for a false sense of entitlement. But where, oh where, does this so called “hurt” stem from? Because you didn’t get a birthday card in the mail every year for the last 20 years of your life? Because you didn’t get a Christmas present in the mail every once in a while? As my eldest family member said to me, when you’re used to getting top of the line EVERYTHING, the meager card would have been much too insignificant for you and your high class and “rich” taste. Honey you’re living a millionaire’s dream on a “hundredaire’s” budget! Who wants to take the time out to acknowledge someone’s birthday with a card (without any money in it) who isn’t going to appreciate it? That would just be something else for them to talk about; “Why did they send this, there’s no money or anything?” But I’m not mistaken in my thought of them having a false sense of entitlement, because entitlement, in its literal form, means “the belief that one is inherently deserving of privileges or special treatment.” Nobody owes you anything! I don’t owe you a “happy birthday,” or a “congratulations on your graduation,” or a “Merry Christmas.” Who are you?

One of the ten commandments in the Bible says to honor your father and your mother so that you may live long… I foresee that EVERYTHING you touch will fail until you do right by your mother and give her the respect she is most certainly entitled to from you, the children she gave birth to. I walk my talk every single day. I don’t “fake the funk” for anybody. I am who I am and where I am today in life physically, emotionally, financially, and spiritually because of the decisions I have made in my life. I don’t make excuses for my flaws or downfalls. I don’t point the finger at anyone else to say they should have done this, that or the other for me. It took me a long time to come to realize that, but I hope and pray it doesn’t take my other family members as long to wise up and to realize that life is too short to live with hurts from the past. If you feel hurt, you need to talk sensibly with those who you feel have hurt you and explain why you feel the way you do. Because if I mistakenly step on your foot but do not realize it, how can I apologize or make it right if you don’t tell me, “hey, you stepped on my foot, and you hurt me”? So yes, I have been a bit frustrated the last few days, and I don’t feel as if there has been proper communication that could possibly resolve this issue; whatever it may be.

They say blood is thicker than water, but sometimes you have to watch out for your so called family more than you do a stranger on the street. People also say sticks stones can break your bones, but words can never hurt you. That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. Sometimes words can hurt and cut deeper than any two-edged sword. It’s crazy how life works. How obstacles are thrown in your path right when you’re doing good; doing what’s right and noble. Misery  sure loves company and oftentimes, people will try their best to bring others down just to bring themselves up; no matter what lengths they have to go to to do so. It’s a crying shame. God don’t like ugly; and he’s not too fond of pretty either. He favors what’s right. And when you’re wrong, you’re wrong. You’ll never get anywhere in life trying to make other people’s lives miserable… never! I can promise you that.

“Live for today, not tomorrow or yesterday.” ~jRenae~


Tomorrow Is Not Promised

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In light of some recent deaths

I felt compelled to write

Just a few lines, not too many

I only wanna shed a little light.


Light on the things I know to be true

I have very few loyal friends

While I associate myself with many people

I try to be real and not pretend.


There is no one whom I can say I hate

That is too negative an emotion to feel

It puts a weight on one’s shoulders

And leaves scars not so easily healed.


I want to say that I love you

To any and everyone near and dear to me

I don’t want to perish from this life

Without making sure that you believe.


Believe me when I say I’m sorry

For any wrong I may have done to you

Whether today, yesterday, or last year

Right my wrongs is what I must do.


I don’t know when my time will be

But I don’t want to leave my work undone

Yet there is so much still left to do

This race I’m still running, I haven’t won.


At least not yet, because I’m still PUSHing

Praying Until Something Happens

Believing that the Lord is always beside me

Doing what I love with purpose and passion.


If you have ever said a word against me

It’s more than okay because I forgive you

I don’t want to burden my heart with grudges

I’m gonna do what Jesus would do.


Too many young people are dying

One right after the other, after another

Leaving loved ones behind to mourn them

Children, moms, dads, sisters and brothers.


They are filled with sorrow and grief

Unsure of how they can go on

Without seeing the one they love again

Crying whenever they hear their favorite song.


I’ve done some things I’m not proud of

But I know my good outweighs my bad

I want to make a difference while I’m here

I want to be happy, not angry or sad.


When it’s my time to leave this Earth

I want to be celebrated and remembered

This old world will surely break you down

But every one of our days are numbered.


So no, tomorrow is not promised to any of us

We don’t know our future, only our past

Just treat people right and always be kind

And live each day as if it were your very last.

Haiku ~ Loss

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Tears stream down my face
Thinking of the love we shared
Priceless memories

Never said good-bye
Time ran out far too quickly
Words left unspoken

I think of your face
Your smile and the laugh you had
Brightened my dark days

This does not feel real
I feel like I am dreaming
But cannot wake up

I lost my best friend
Disbelief dismay and more
Many emotions

Those who knew you well
Are filled with grief and sadness
Especially me

I needed you more
Than you ever needed me
We had each other

Overwhelming fear
Is what has come upon me
Of what to do now

To live without you
When I never thought I would
I just want you back

But I dry these tears
I smile and I remember
So many good times

You would not want me
To be drowning in my tears
Feeling such heartache

I miss you so much
You are not here in the flesh
But your spirit lives

You are in my heart
You will always be right there
Never forgotten

I have to let go
Though I will be sad sometimes

I will end with this
My love for you will not fade
We will meet again

It may not be soon
Maybe in another life
No one knows for sure

I will not forget
You brought meaning to my life
Endless gratitude

Brina’s Story


Well, I thought about what to write for my 50th blog post and I came up with a short story. I love fiction and I have always been very creative and if I sit down and just do it, I can come up with some pretty good stuff, if I say so myself. Much of what I write is based on true to life occurrences, but not so much true to my life. Some of what I write is, but not a whole lot. This one in particular, is not specifically relating to any personal happening in my own life. I hope you enjoy it…


“Why won’t you let me be who I am?!”

“Brina, you fourteen years old, girl; you don’t know who you are! Stop trying to make me out to be this awful mama when you know that’s not who I am.”

“I didn’t say you was awful, but you try to control my life and my every movement. I’m not a little kid anymore!”

“Well little or not, you are still my kid and you are a child. You not grown and as long as you live in my house you gone live by my rules.”

These were the kinds of conversations that went on in my house from the time I was twelve until I was around sixteen and a half. My mama always tried to tell me what to do, what to wear, how to act, how to talk, who to hang out with or talk to. It made me angry and frustrated with her all the time. She didn’t understand me. She wouldn’t let me be my own person and I grew to really dislike her over the years. Well let me back up a little bit in my story.

I was about twelve years old when my dad got sick and died. He and my mama were never married, and they went their separate ways when I was about five. I had small memories of him from when I was little, but as I got older, he came around less and less. I really feel like my mom drove him away. She was always arguing with him and picking fights about money or him not spending enough time with me. She never really talked bad about him to me or anything or around me, that I could remember, but when he did come around or when she talked to him on the phone I could always sense frustration in her voice. But when I was eleven, he started coming around a whole lot. Taking me out to eat, or to the beach on the weekends, he even took me to this big water park once. I was having the time of my life! I felt like we were connecting and bonding in a way we never had before.

It was after my twelfth birthday that he told my mom and me that he was sick and he didn’t have much longer to live. I was devastated. He told me not to be sad, but to always remember the good times we had. He told me to hold on to those moments and whenever I thought of him, I should smile and not be sad because the time we had together was short, but we made the best of it. When I think back on it now, I can see why he started coming around in that last year of his life. He wanted to make some lasting memories with me so that I would be happy when I thought of him and not sad. It was four months and four days after my birthday that he died. I remember it like it was yesterday, and it’s now been seven years. I still think about him every day.

My mom was sad, but I think her sadness came mostly from my own sadness. She felt bad for me because he was no longer in my life. It took me a little while to regain my focus on school and my friends and other stuff, but I got it together. It was after I was ‘over’ the hurt of my dad’s death that my relationship with my mom went sour. I was distant with her and rude a lot. I felt like she didn’t respect me or my things, my room and such. She was so bossy all the time. I couldn’t stand it. When I was thirteen I wanted to go to a friend’s house for a slumber party but she told me I wasn’t old enough to be staying out over night. I was really ticked off at her because of it.

“What do you mean I’m not old enough? There are gonna be six other girls my same age whose moms are letting them stay out over night.”

“What those girls’ mamas let them do is not my concern. I’m your mama and I said no.”

“That is so dumb! I’m not trying to go out and rob or kill anybody or steal nothing. April’s mama is going to be at home, you can even call her.”

“Look, this isn’t a debate! I said no! I don’t have to call nobody’s mama to talk to them about you staying over to their house. You too young, and that’s it! Not quit talkin’ to me about it!”

It was always her way or no way at all. That’s what pushed me away from her and really messed up our relationship. I couldn’t talk to her about anything. If I had a problem and I even thought ‘Let me ask my mama bout it…’ I would change my mind just because I felt like she either wasn’t going to care, wasn’t going to listen and give me a chance to explain my thoughts and feelings, or I don’t know… I just felt like talking to her wasn’t going to get me the answer I desired. I overheard her talking on the phone one day to my Aunt Stephanie. “Step, child, I don’t know who Brina think she tryin’ to fool. She always askin me to go to somebody house and stay the night. I don’t know these people! And she not gonna be out here runnin ‘round with some little hoodlum, havin sex and wind up pregnant!”

Well I don’t know what my aunt was saying on the other end, but when I heard what my mama was saying, I was infuriated! I had no intentions on having sex with anybody at that time – I was fourteen then – but it all started to make sense. She was trying to compare me to herself when she was my age. We never really talked about her getting pregnant at sixteen, but I could do the math and I knew how old she was when she had me. And I can only imagine that she had been having sex for quite some time before she became pregnant. But that wasn’t me at all. I wanted to confront her that day, but I didn’t. I let it go. What I did do though, was talk to my Aunt Step. It was about two weeks after the conversation I overheard my mother having that I spoke with her.

“Auntie, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah honey, anything. What’s on your mind?”

“I kinda overheard you and my mama talking the other week about me and I wanted to know what you think about what my mama said. I mean what did you say?”

“Well now, what conversation are you talking about, Brina?”

“I heard mama telling you that she didn’t know who she thought I was fooling by trying to spend the night with my friends and something about me messing around getting pregnant.”

“Oh… that conversation. Well let me ask you this, are you having sex?”

“No ma’am. I’m not even thinking about that right now. Sure, guys try to talk to me, but I’m not really interested. I just like hanging out with my friends. I’ve missed so many sleepovers and parties this last year ‘til its ridiculous! I am the only one of my friends whose mama don’t let her do nothin’! Why don’t she trust me?”

“Well you know your mama was young when she got pregnant with you. She just don’t want you to be making the same bad decisions she made when she was your age. And I know it’s hard for you being the only one of your friends not able to go and do like everyone else, but I think your mama has a valid point.”

“How, Aunt Step? What have I done to make her think she shouldn’t trust me? Yeah, I have an attitude sometimes, and I don’t like her telling me what to do and not to do all the time, but I never snuck out, she never caught me in a lie or nothing like that, I get okay grades, I do what she ask me to do most of the time, even if I gripe and complain about it; but I don’t get why she don’t trust me or why she think I’m having sex!”

“You know what that sounds like to me?”


“Sounds like you need to be talkin’ to your mama bout this situation. You know I’m always here for you if you wanna talk, but this is something you need to talk to your mama about. If you don’t tell her how you feel or what your problem is with how she treats you, then how is she gonna know?”

“I guess she won’t but I just don’t think she is gonna listen to me.”

“Give her the chance. I think you will be surprised.”

“I doubt it, but ok. I’ll talk to her.”

My Aunt Step is my mama’s older sister, well her only sister, and she has always been the one out of the two of them I felt more comfortable with when it came to talking about what was on my mind.  But I did like she said and I tried to approach my mama and talk to her about the conversation I overheard as well as how I felt about what she said and her lack of trust in me.

“Mama can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Bout what?”

“Stuff that’s been on my mind.”

“Yeah, come on over here and talk to me.”

“Well I overheard you talkin to Aunt Step a couple of weeks ago about me and I wanted to ask you about it.”


“Well, mama, why you think I’m having sex; or trying to? That’s not me. That’s not anything I’m into or trying to be into at this time in my life. I feel like you don’t trust me to do the right thing because of the decisions you made when you were my age that led to you being pregnant and having me.”

“Well, I see some of these lil girls you hang out with and they look just like I did when I was y’alls age. Hot and fast! I figure if they doin’ something they ain’t got no business, you will be following right along with ‘em doing the same things. But you tellin’ me you not havin’ sex?”

“No, mama! And my friends may dress a little grown, but they are all good girls! None of us are really into that kind of stuff… yet. We like to listen to music, get online, laugh about silly, stupid stuff, and just have fun. We not trying to do nothing that’s gonna get any of us in any kind of trouble.”

Well the conversation I had with my mama that day went better than I thought it would. My Aunt was actually right; I was surprised. But the so-called trust that she put in me was very short lived. She let me go to a party with three of my best friends at another girl’s house one weekend and a fight broke out. The police were called and two of the boys that were fighting got hurt. Neither I or any of my friends that I was there with had anything to do with the fight, we didn’t get involved or hurt in any way and it seemed like that conversation my mom and I had just never happened. She stopped me from going and hanging out with my friends and it was like she had an even tighter ‘leash’ on me than she did before.

We had our good times, my mom and me. But they were few and far between. While I loved my mom, I didn’t like her very much. She tried too hard to be a mom and she didn’t trust me which with some girls I know, if it were their moms, they probably would have given their mamas reasons to not trust them since they didn’t anyways. But I didn’t want to do that with my mama. I wanted to be trusted and in order to do that I felt like I had to continue to not do things that would make her not trust me. Although she didn’t, regardless of what I wasn’t doing, I refused to give her any reason to say “I told you so”.

It was about five months after I turned sixteen when my relationship with my mama changed drastically. My grandma died. That hurt my mama to her soul. She was really close with my grandma and she was torn up when she passed away.  She had been somewhat sickly off and on for about eight or nine months before she died, but it was never anything serious. About a year after my grandma died is when I found out why my mama started being ‘better’ to me. One day I was sitting on the couch watching TV and my mama came and sat down beside me.

“Brina…” She just sat there after she said my name and didn’t say anything for what seemed like ten whole minutes.

“Yeah, mama? What’s wrong?” She started to cry and then I got worried. I thought she might’ve been sick or something and she didn’t want to tell me. I had already lost my daddy, my grandma, I didn’t think I could take losin my mama. Not after the progress we had made in becoming closer over the past year.

“I never told you this, but I think its bout time I did.”

“What mama?”

“When your grandma passed, on her death-bed she said something to me that hit me like a ton of bricks. I know you saw a change in my attitude with you, the way I treated you and talked to you; the way I let you have more freedom…”


“Well your grandmamma told me before she died that I didn’t need to push you away and make you feel that I didn’t love or trust you. We always had a good relationship, your grandma and me. Even after I got pregnant with you, she helped me, she didn’t fuss at me or put me down. She did what most mamas would’ve done, but what many would not have. She showed me how to be a mama to you the best way she knew how.  But what I did along the way…” She started to cry again. “What I did along the way was I held on too tight. I saw what a beautiful, intelligent and open-minded young lady you were becoming and I didn’t want anything to mess that up. I didn’t want for some little boy to be whispering sweet nothings in your ear and mess around and get you pregnant and mess up your whole future. I thought if I was strict enough, you would not fall into any of those traps. But Step saw it, and mama did too. She made me promise her on her death-bed that I would change my attitude and better my relationship with you; so I did. I’m so proud of the young woman you have become and I love you, Brina. And I’m sorry for the time we lost being happy by being mad and bitter with one another.”

So of course by this time I was boo-hooing! “I love you too mama. All I ever wanted was for you to trust and believe in me that I was going to do the right thing. I just want for you to be proud of me.”

“I am, baby! I am so proud of you and I’m proud to be your mama!”

And the rest, as they say, is history. I look back now that I’m nineteen and I hate that we missed out on a lot of mother-daughter bonding time because of my anger toward her for her overbearing ways, but I can appreciate it because I don’t think we would have the relationship we have today had we not had those difficult times. My grandma was a wise woman, and she helped my mom to see the best in me when really she looked at me and saw the worst in herself.

When Being ‘Enough’ doesn’t feel like ENOUGH…

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I could write a book on the things I’ve experienced in my life. From childhood to now, there is just so much. I feel overwhelmed at times, but being the ‘strong’, ‘independent’, ‘self-sufficient’ black woman that I am, I don’t like to feel weakened by anyone or anything. It upsets me when I feel myself losing power or energy because of depression and feelings of self-doubt. That’s where the statement in the title of this blog post comes in. When you’ve done all you feel you can possibly do, there does comes a time when you feel like it just isn’t enough.

I usually try to be upbeat and positive on here because I like for people to laugh, I like to make people think; about life, their situations… I want to be able to inspire people. I never want to be the center of some pity party because I can most certainly hold my own ground. But my friend John Skywalker and I have discussed this matter in the past and he has helped me come to realize that I am “enough”. And when I say enough, I’m speaking in a relation to my children and what and who I’ve been to them in their lives.

I look at my situation as no different from a lot of people. Not many that I know personally, but some… Three kids, same dad who seems rather disinterested in being a father and a lot more interested in his own agenda and his own life. He seems to want to concern himself with his kids only when its convenient for him. I have a problem with it so much because of the fact that we both grew up without our fathers in our lives. I grew up without my mother or my father so I feel pressed and obligated in a way that many may not, to always be here for my kids in any and every way that I possibly can. I know what its like to grow up without a parent feeling unloved and unwanted; I never want for my kids to feel that way. I wouldn’t want that for any child. Because it’s not a good feeling. To harbor pain and resentment in your heart for someone who gave you life is a feeling that is almost unexplainable.

A recent conversation I had with the father of my three children is what prompted me to write this blog post. I’ve talked to him time and time again about the same old things. Why doesn’t he spend time with the kids? Why won’t he at least call them regularly and see what’s going on with them? His answers are almost always the same. He knows I’m a good mother so he doesn’t worry about them. Or, he has a lot of personal stuff going on and he doesn’t want to drag them into the drama. He pays child support and although he doesn’t see them or spend time with them he’s no deadbeat because he is paying child support which is more than I can say for a lot of fathers. Those are just a few of the most common ‘excuses’. We live in the same city, not even five minutes away from each other. He knows my cell number and my house phone number. I tell him that I would rather him call the house phone because my cell is for my personal use and he can talk to them whenever he wants to if he calls the house and we’re home. But back to the conversation we had. He was telling me how he wants to make sure he gets his life together for “his girls” because they’re all he has and he wants them to know their daddy loves them. He said some other stuff and then went on to say that he wants to be able to buy our daughter Liah a car when she gets to be 16. In my mind I’m thinking what are you going to do in the interim before she gets 16? She’s seven! Do you really want to wait that long to “do” something for her??

He’s one of those fathers who feels that if he’s paying child support he doesn’t have to do anything else. He is so focused on the money that he is failing to realize that these kids need him IN their lives. Our son is slowly forming his own opinion of his dad and it’s not looking too pretty. See, I don’t have memories of my childhood from where my mom (or dad) paid child support or sent me gifts or clothes or shoes (the material things). I only remembered that she WAS NOT THERE FOR ME!!!! SHE DIDN’T CALL AND TALK TO ME!! To me, she were not concerned with ME! And it wasn’t so much my dad because I did not meet him until I was 15 years old, so it was more my mom. Sometimes I felt lost, like I didn’t know who I was. I felt like I was missing a piece of myself. I longed for that mother/daughter bond as a child. And when I got it as a teenager after I had Isaiah, it wasn’t even significant to me then. I didn’t want it. We didn’t get along and I hated it!! Not her, but the fact that the relationship I thought we would have in my mind, was NOTHING like the one we had in reality. And it hurt so bad. Like to my core, and it still hurts me to think about it now even at the age I am and the point I am at in my life. They say the past is the past. But no matter how hard you try to push the past to the back of your mind, it will always be a part of who you are in your present, and who you will be in your future. And I don’t think it’s about “if you let it”; its inevitable – it will ALWAYS be there. I love my mom and I appreciate her and the relationship we have NOW, but the amount of time it took for us to get to this point is… We just lost a lot of time.

I feel like there’s no need in beating a dead horse. I feel as if I’m all talked out. Like what more can I say that hasn’t already been said? Does something bad (God forbid) have to happen in order for him to wake up and realize that he is missing the best years of his children’s lives? Is he going to one day wake up and have this epiphany and say to himself “Where has the time gone? When did the years pass me by and how did I miss the most important parts of my kids’ lives when I could have made an impact on them?” I won’t stake my life on it or anything, but I don’t think that epiphany will be happening any time in our near future. Its like this; people who don’t go to church say, I’m going to “get right” and then start going. If you don’t go, you WON’T get right! You can’t do it alone! And with him, he’s like he has to get his life in order before he can have a personal relationship with his kids. But in a minute, they’re no longer going to be KIDS and they may not want that personal relationship when HE wants it. They want it NOW! It may take him another four or five years to get himself together; and where will his kids be in the mean time?

My friend John explained it to me like this: I’ve been so busy being enough that it’s difficult to see that I’ve been enough the whole time! No matter how much my kids’ dad comes in and out of their lives, I’m enough for them! I just wasn’t able to open my eyes to be able to see it because I was so busy being enough that I felt that they really needed him too when really… I’m enough for them! I did see it that way then, when he said it, and I loved the thought that I AM ENOUGH!! Although I have been enough their entire lives, I still feel that my children are losing out somehow because of their dad not being actively involved in their lives. Why must I feel that way? Why should I carry that burden of feeling like I’m not enough, when really I am. I feel in so many ways that my grandmother was enough for me growing up as a child, but I did miss out on knowing my mom and dad. I always had those thoughts of “what if”… Wonder if it will be like that with my kids when they’re older?

I Didn’t Know

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Commentary to the reader: This poem I wrote after I read a book by Dave Pelzer, titled A Child Called “It”. This book was very touching. In it, Mr. Pelzer tells about being abused as a child by his own mother. It is sad and there are some incidents in the book where he speaks in detail about his abuse that will bring you to tears. I love a good book, and this one truly is one you should read!

I didn’t know about the abuse

You had to constantly endure.

About the hurt and pain you suffered

From a heart you thought was pure.

I didn’t know about the love

You so seldom received.

And if I had not seen it,

I myself, would not have believed.

I didn’t know about the bruises

That you often tried to hide.

About the broken arm and stab wound,

Of the causes you had lied.

I didn’t know about the hardships

You went through with your mother.

And even just as bad,

From those you called “brother.”

I didn’t know about the hunger

From the times you weren’t fed.

About the way you had to sleep

On a cot for a bed.

I didn’t know about the prayers

You prayed down on your knees

And cried out so earnestly


I didn’t know about your father,

Who rarely tried to help you

In your struggle to overcome

What your mother put you through.

I didn’t know there existed,

Anywhere, in any state

A mother who harbored so much anger,

So much dislike and so much hate.

I didn’t know about the people

Who never came to your defense.

And this I don’t understand,

It just doesn’t make any sense.

I didn’t know that a mother

Could treat a child so bad.

And to know that it’s common,

Breaks my heart and makes me sad.

I didn’t know you were deemed a school outcast,

The real you no one wanted to know.

So to yourself you stayed,

Never letting your feelings show.

I didn’t know a heart so kind

Could be so broken and so torn

Just as the ragged clothes

So many times you had worn.

I didn’t know that others like you

Felt your pain and with it shared

The feelings of loneliness and despair

And the thoughts that no one cared.

But I’m hoping to help you realize

That with strength to help you grow,

Someone will always be there,

But I swear I didn’t know.

Another Life Lost

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It seems like one day after the next

We are laying someone we know to rest.

We seem to have stopped loving one another

We’ve resorted to robing and killing our brother.

But for what? Somebody please tell me why,

Must the ones we love suffer and yet die?

My heart is quite heavy with grief

Its becoming so common, I’m beyond disbelief.

I wonder what its like in those last moments.

I know in the minds of the family, the thought torments.

Torments their heart and even their soul

That the one they love had not the chance to grow old.

The news spreads faster than you can catch your breath

When for unknown reasons, someone meets an early death.

While we’re all here, born and just living to die

We need to wake up, wise up and stop living a lie!

Open your minds to more than violence and crime.

Killing people over nonsense at the drop of a dime.

Now I don’t see the point in saying too much about fate

But I hope we can all get it right before its too late.

Although its never too late as long as you’re alive

And with God’s grace and mercy, we are sure to survive.

The lives we live must prove to be of some virtue

So our legacy we leave behind can be of one issue.

Not of whether we will be remembered, but how.

By those who knew us in our past, as well as now.

Even after they’re gone, the love doesn’t diminish

One final look, just one final wish

To rest eternally with God’s peace

The madness must end, it must soon cease.

So as another life is yet lost, and as we say good-bye,

Wipe your tears, hold you head high.

Dwell not on how he died, but that he did live

Remember that God wants us to love, and to forgive.

~Class of 2000 ~ R.I.P. Billy Hewitt ~

We won’t forget you, man!