What Good

They trampled upon it and danced without care
Not one eye was cast upon what lay there

A small pitiful voice crying why to the heavens above
Have they forgotten the promise? are their hearts void of love?
Answered a gentle murmuring comforting and wise
What good is a heart if one believes lies?

Winds strong enough to carry away a lifetimes dream
Proves we are not as much in control as we seem

A cry raised to the skies shaken and forlorn
Nothing is left for what purpose was I born?
The clouds seem to whisper as they pass high overhead
Only if one ceases giving is one truly dead

Shadows will rise and overwhelm those full of hope
Leaving them shellshocked and helpless to cope

A plea comes floating from the earth to God's ear
Are we in this alone? Have you ever been here?
Trees rustled gently with barely heard reply
Long before wishes visited stars in the sky

eye type

RAVEN EYES

You have Raven
Eyes!
Positive Traits: Intellectual,
Wise, Experienced, Honest,
Trustworthy
Negative Traits: Pompous,
Condescending, Withdrawn, Pessimistic,
Depressed

Your eyes are the windows to your soul. What type of eyes do you have?
brought to you by

Running Out Of Time

I feel like I'm racing against time. I still have so much to do. Mainly find a job. Just got turned down for another one. Everybody tells me I should have no trouble because I did so well in my last job and got nothing but compliments from customers and co-workers. I'm willing to work hard and learn new skills and I always turn up for the interviews on time. I tell them I'm willing to be flexible when it comes to the hours I work. Then I call them back to see what's happening and they either tell me that they're still going through the applicants and will get back to me or else they decided to hire somebody else. I'm hoping I can find work before winter arrives. Or else I might have to start shoveling people's walks for a living.

Make it stop please

I just listened to the cheeky girls. Touch My Bum. What kind of a mother would write a song like that for her daughters to sing? Good grief! Well, I needed a good laugh. Thank you, Rachel Fuller and ballerinagurl.

The Pit

Now the laughing gleeful consumers of the mire
Will slither and dance over the remains of the shattered
Taking substance from the droppings of a tabloid empire
Slurping the blood dropped into their gaping, salivating jaws
They reach up and greedily grasp for more tearing the walls
Crying out for victims who must be punished for their flaws
Their hunger is never satisfied and they will never see
That the joke is on them the morsels only illusions they create
To wile away the useless hours of a life they foolishly embrace
Climbing so far then sliding back down once again to helplessly wait