Being born with a weak poet’s soul is the worse thing one could have in this modern world. Poets are usually the first causality of humanity. I was no different except from an early age I learn that friends who one thinks are shoulders to lean upon just end up getting you into more trouble. Elementary school is where my first lessons in how cruel the world must have really scarred me bad. Being called Casper, Whiteout and other things was tough but when your mom and dad are going through a divorce, a child is bound to feel confuse. So I told a classmate friend who then told my mother who when we got home promptly told my grandmother who then in turn proceeded to give me a spanking. My mother was in tears and I was sent to my room but while I was in my room, despite my tears, I learned very quickly that friends and enemies are to be kept at arm’s length as well as family.  Even now it amazes me how quickly I built up that defense wall and sought solace in books and the written word. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family but family out of the entire universe are the ones who can harm you the worse. The only one who seemed to be understanding was my grandfather or maybe it was because he tried the least to hurt me and focused on helping me grow.

 All those elementary years, I learn that its easier for you if you please those around you so they left you alone but the times with my grandfather were the best. My mom and dad divorce, I was given great childhood memories despite the efforts of some trying to tell me how to remember them then my mom remarried. I got step brothers and step sister and for my own reasons, I hate them. Junior high is when I started to strength that defense wall and retreat further into myself. Friends were not trusted allies, the bullying seem to get worse in its own way and I just tried to find things that would gain me honors so a proud family would let me be. Graduated junior high with honors but my real trouble started in high school.

Ah yes, high school, the time that girls have chests that get looks from boys, time of socializing and such. Wish I could say that was my high school years but it wasn’t. I had no social life, did the band to get a stupid letter to make mom proud, sunk deeper into books that english teachers found that something to complain about and got my first kiss from my seemingly best friend only to have him later brag that his girlfriend ( another supposed friend of mine) was his first kiss. I was a late bloomer and just trying to make it through highschool. Major embarrassment was delivered at the hands of my stepsister for something I didn’t do, made to apologize only to find out later my stepfather’s children were spreading rumors to damage my character. It didn’t matter, my defense wall kept me safe but then that defense wall suddenly grew a big crack in it. My grandfather, the man who seemed to understand who and what I was was gone from me. My world shattered like a vase or a mirror. To my family it was a time of sorrow, my grandmother seemed broken but that pain tore through my world and left me shattered. i never healed from it, refused to heal and a shrink would say that I hadn’t grieved. To hell with grieving, the one person in this world that let me feel comfortable with who I was rests six feet under and left me with a family of sharks. Even now that pain still holds me. Later on in high school, I would graduate in the top hundred, get a silver seal but life seemed to hold very little interest to me.

Yes I went to college, moved to another state to do it and despite saying that i would go into one field, I found family hooked onto it because of the salary not my happiness so I rebelled. The little doll who offered up no resistance was starting to fight back. This upset the status quo in the family and things got harder. Money became the god for mother and grandmother and soon the bitching started about bills, about college tuition and even after college, my modest paycheck had to stretch and most of it go to them to shut them up. I was alone, content to be alone in my misery and pain. I wrote poetry and stories because that was my poet’s soul in me finding release but even that small joy had to be destroyed. my dreams of writing a best seller were dampened then crushed. Writing I do now, I keep hidden behind that defense wall with its ever-present crack.

Then my own body started to fight me. I was losing a war on so many fronts that I stopped fighting, stop caring and just went through the motions. Family didn’t notice, friends I limited the information to about my health. One of my favorite poets Keats had felt his own body turning on him as well. Funny how the one foolish wish to a non-existent god for a deadly illness came true thanks to family genetics. Yet I couldn’t stand the pain my body put me through. Once many times I thought about taking my life, tried to cut my wrists once but chicken out. Not anymore as I spent the evening walking aimlessly. My cell is shut off and i let the cold numb me to my finally decision about my life……

Yes I took my own life because in the end, my life held little value to family who worried over money and very little over me. Maybe I sound like i want sympathy and no i don’t. I made my choices, kept that defense wall up and contend with being alone. Being forced to fit social norms had destroyed me till I was nothing more than an empty shell….a doll that was discarded soon after. They say that you are missed by loved ones but not me. What will be miss is the paycheck, the one expected to be obedient, loyal and no trouble, the one who made the error of not growing a thick skin to this world and its barbs of cruelty and in the end, no one will understand that removing myself from this world was  to save what tiny part of the true me still existed before it was destroyed.

All that is left is childhood memories, an old corncob pipe, pair of coal, a button and an old silk hat

They say that the children knew what happen for they had brought him to life

How he laughed and played till he went to town

There the policeman yelled stop and placed him under arrest for molesting minors!

The children protested, Frosty tried to explain and in front of the judge, he was found guilty

Poor Frosty! Once when it was innocent to be a magical figure that entertained so many

Now branded a criminal.

The children watched in horror as he turned into a puddle in the jail cell

Now his hat, coal eyes, button nose and pipe are the only reminders of a childhood

And of a world that has grown blind that has lost touch with their inner child.

At Christy’s, the hat of Frosty has just sold for 2.5 million

Rudolph is in a common zoo, his red nose no longer special but a genetic quirk

Deck the halls with false pretenses and emotions

Jack Frost has been put on permanent retirement thanks to global warming

White Christmas is brought to by the following sponsors – Kmart, Sears, Wal-Mart

And on the holiday special of the Biggest Loser – watch jolly Santa drop his belly to become the modern trim body for the elderly man

This is not the holiday spirit that is promoted by the charming little tales

Christmas Past, Present and Future have thrown their hands up in despair thanks to GhostHunters saying that they were nothing more than residual energy

Should I dare to utter the tidings of Good will to all, Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas or anything else without being served a summons for illegally spreading good cheer

The world is in need of rescuing and there is no hope because the kindest of spirits this time of year are in hiding

Angels dare not tread to proclaim the Savior’s birth

Neighbors duel over decorations

Blood is spilt on the snow but who’s?

Have we murdered the spirit of Christmas?

Who gives a damn if that is so for its about the money and prestige, nothing else

So good night you misers and murders!

Farewell all that once made the season enjoyable and bring on the intolerable gathering of family

Till next year, I will wish on a thousand million shooting stars that we wake up to the true meaning of the holidays before we drown in our own greed

Happy….whatever ( dare not bring the law upon my head by being politically incorrect)

Its siren song is healing salve to this wounded spirit

Desires long buried arise to the surface

My toes can feel the grainy surface caressing the skin

My ears can hear the sweet lull of its ceaseless motion

More loyal then any lover or family or friend

It will never wound nor defend

Ever changing shades of blue and green

Taste of salt upon these parched lips

Never will I ever seek to displace this master

Running deep in my blood and soul

Neptune, master, call this land locked daughter home

If that is so, turn from me

Within the teary blue depths there is a shadow of a soul

Beaten, torn, ragged, exhausted, bloody and forlorn

This ancient soul has no longer the worldly cares

No longer desires to fight for its small bit of peace and tranquilty

Yet the funny thing that is, those around call it

Insanity

Blended into one reckless harmony

Not paid in gold or silver nor gems

But in house and food of thieves

A donkey, a cat, a dog and rooster

Bent with age, sought refuge

The den of wrong

One dared to enter

And mistaken eyes for coal

Put into action

The permanent removal

Four of different breeds

Abandoned dreams

Rewarded with luxury

Hair of silky brown

Flawless and perfect

Yet

Inside the shell

Lays a broken spirit that seemingly won’t mend

His touch, his scent, his animalistic behavior

Makes you yearn for true freedom

By the scent of forbidden rose were you destined

To a human affair twisted in thorns

Who are you to claim beauty’s title

Ebony or is it raven or just dull black, your hair

Say your name to the wind and maybe,

Just maybe that illusion shall come

Of perfection and beauty

Wearing the corset of timeless fashion

Bow and be polite to your suitor

Taste the sweet crisp promise

Of  happily ever after

Then fall into bliss

Dramatic, Poor pitiful one, Stupid and many other hurtful things

The ones who harm the most are those we love and call family

Husbands will beat their wives or vice versea

A child will always strive to be the perfection in their parent’s eye

When does the madness stop? When can we stand our own reflection in the mirror?

Don’t quote the scripture about throwing stones without sin

For we are all sinful of harming those we held dear at one point or another

Show me what color is your heart

As my heart is just a lump in the chest

I blame you
For all those times you made me believe that I could fly on unbroken wings
I’m freaking out
Because I have fallen and hit the ground too many times
I won’t cry
For these wings are broken beyond all caring

Is this real or is it still pretend?
Let me take my stand and you just stop undermining me
I will survive for what could die is already dead
Nothing can stop me or hurt or make me cry any longer

I blame you
For all those times you let me believe in possibilites
I’m freaking out
Because I won’t try anymore to defend myself
I won’t cry
For this heart exists no longer

The heart of the night is the only sound that I hear now
Don’t try to reach straight to my heart for it is not there
Just ash and dust linger
How much will you linger till you see that I must wear a mask to endure the light of day

I blame you
For all those times you told me that you would always be there with your love
I’m freaking out
Because this famial love is highly conditional
I won’t cry
For this is no point is wasting tears

I blame you
For lying