Many will say they are your friend,
But will they be there until the end?
Will they bestow a helping hand?
Lifting you up, so you can once again stand?
Even when you’ve butted heads
And can’t take back words you’ve said,
Will they venture across the divide,
Just to stand there by your side?
Will they tell you what you need to hear?
Or do they sugarcoat you out of fear?
Do they have an honest heart?
Or do they speak ill of you when you’re apart?
Are they the type to help you grow?
Or do they drag you to the depths below?
Are they there in your times of need?
Or will they take advantage of you for their own greed?
Will they carry you through your pain?
Or forsake you for their own gain?
Many will say they are your friend,
But when push comes to shove, you will find their love is just pretend
With that said, a true friend you must also be
So be not the one who’s absentee

Signs that a man has truly grown
Is when he’s able to see life through eyes not his own
When he stops chasing after the foolish things he seeks
And knows when to bridle his tongue and when to speak
When he is able to quiet his soul
Walking in temperance and self control
When he’s willing to forsake his pride and make himself low
Making himself not a spectacle or show
When he sees others as greater value than he
When his hands are shackled, yet his heart remains free
When he’s able to overcome fear
And willing to let go of his own life and well being, which many hold dear
When the desire of his heart is to give
So that those around him may live
When regardless of his position
He never forgets the art of submission
When in the face of adversity he stands
But to his enemies he’s still willing to bestow a caring hand
When nothing is able to quench his love
That he may mirror the God in heaven above
When he seeks after the truth of Christ divine
For the fruit of a man’s growth, these are the signs

Simply Me
Marli Wright

If only, if only, this little ol’ me
Could inspire just one, how wondrous that’d be.
I could win the lottery, share my great wealth,
Buy homes for veterans, grant them good health.
Adopt all their pets, and feed children in need,
Clothe them and house them, fulfill every need.
But how can I, just small me, spread cheer?
As Buddy the Elf says, “Sing loud for all to hear.”
Yet that’s not my vibe, not these days, I find,
So I’ll do it the old-fashioned way, kind.
By being myself, with a caring heart,
Sharing a smile, a hug, a heartfelt start.
Being there for the grieving, a comforting hand,
Kissing the boo-boos, helping them stand.
It’s not much to boast, it’s not grand or new,
But to inspire, I’ll simply be true.
This is all I know, the way I can be,
To inspire with love—just letting me be.

Broke my limbs and tore my spirit
As I walked and smelled debris
I could barely talk
Was hard of hearing
Even lost feeling in some places
Some places still looked nice
But they were broken
Why am I the chosen
To see these things
To be unfazed after the truth
After the storm and troops
Everyone is gone
No sound but mine
Where do I go and be fine
Limping on distraught knees
Existing with little breathing
I continue…
Down the wary roads
As I see the smoke
As the rain provokes
My will elopes
And I continue…
Through the Hurricane

What is the point of holding a grudge?
To carry along a heart full of hate?
To stand firm in wrath, and not budge
For it is but a burdensome weight
One must learn to forgive
To let streams of mercy flow
For their own spirit to live
One must learn to let go
Why must one torment their own soul?
Why must one harden their heart like slate?
For vengeance is but an empty hole
And it’s endless cycle shall be one’s fate
It has been said, an eye for an eye
But I simply ask why?
Life is short, and one day we die
So why is mercy something that we deny?
Harken unto this decree
Forgive and be free
Looking back you will see
Bitterness only holds you back from all you can be
Like venom in your veins
Circulating through your blood
When hatred reigns
One may as well be laid to rest in the mud
Living but not alive
Overcome by offense
Forward on they’ll strive
Until they get recompense
Consumed
Hurt ever looming
Never healing
Internally reeling
The torment won’t cease..
Forgive…
Release…
Live…
Find peace

Girl, you better get ready, and hold on tight! You, my dear, are in for the ride if your life! You will be surprised, stunned, scared, and more. You will wonder at the beauty life has in store. When the time comes you will cry as never before, but fret not love, for they will be tears of joy. And though you will live through the darkest of days, in the end, you will be okay. So remember this as you walk bravely through time: God has his reasons, and you shall be just fine.

I want to give you all of me.
But i see what you’ll do
I wish 1+1 could = 2.

Our greatest fear confirmed what we already know
That we will grow close and then have to let go

I want to be what you need
But, your void is hungry and hard to feed

I’m starting to pick myself apart.
I try to reach your head, but go straight for your heart.

You probably are realizing that I’m just a dream
Idealized goddess I’m not what I seem

I’m sorry that you thought that I was all you need
I tried to tell you that this was a dream

Typos are a common everyday problem. Not only does it reflect poor grammar but, it causes miscommunication. It starts to rain and writers get abused and lazy. The critical experiences were unheard. It all goes against all the hatin. The root of all evil decides to get a little greater when dealing with typos. And it shows how things can be harsh. The future ain’t as bright as the day before the night is out. Even with the highs and lows of grammar. Me being the underdog of the herb. But aint done dirt when your next move is heard. They all consider this lyrical jerk.

The truth becomes hard to understand. My enemy of publishers is the upper hand. Some things are out of our control as far as what “they” look for and what “their” target audience is. We can do less about our jobs and our selves. All we can do is express ourselves. We can’t hold back in fear because of typos and let it consume us out of guilt. Sometimes I stay in the same lane but, I don’t know what I’ll find. Writers conduct with a conscience and purpose in mind. I have often have remained ashamed of the time we lost our label.

As if we were education and a lot of tough crimes could be so blind. If we understand the consequences of our existence. Theres no reason to have any resistance. We have the kind of knowledge that will destroy the people in the world. But because we have no confidence of our own we are afraid of the careless movement of typos. We don’t have a problem because we don’t care about anything because of the obvious present stubble. Everybody knows we are untouchable. You cant just throw your cards on the corner. So, we re-create our image. We are the writers of the future with our inner self.

Was driving home from work after not having the greatest night… and I saw a guy, with his hazards on, pushing his van…

I came back around and asked him if he needed some help (along with another person who had stopped) and he said that he had run out of gas. I told him that I needed some, too, and to hop in my car.

We pull up to the gas station and there’s a container sitting right next to the pump. Could not have scripted it better…

While I was filling the container, we were talking and he told me how thankful he was… I said that it was no problem and that he had to pay it forward. He then told me that a few days earlier, he had helped a man who was suicidal. I said that’s amazing and that this is just coming back to him for doing the right thing!

My point in telling this story is that the world is not as bleak as it is made out to be… times are obviously very tough right now, but there is still something to be said for helping each other out. I told the guy as he was leaving that good deeds go in a cycle, from one person to the next… we hugged and went on our separate ways, both better for having met each other.

“Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on Earth.”

— Muhammad Ali

Dear Unsealers,
Time- can have a frame
Within it, many things can be contained
Time- can never be restrained
It runs within seconds of its domain
Every minute is within it
It stops or its infinite
There are clocks of all kinds
Catch up or get left behind
But beware of father time
Some things remain some things never last
But what do you think about these little grains of sand
Flowing In the hourglass
Time- will be a part of your future, present, and past
You can have so little
You can have too much
I have never seen time on my hands
Because it is something I can’t touch
Time- can have an effect In many different ways
24 hours In a day
It can be a part of your healing, grief, or pain
Should I go or should I stay
There’s a Time for everything
But never a wrong time to pray
Over Time there’s nurturing and growth
Destruction or decay
Sun up or sundown
The only thing that matters
Is that the world keeps turning to circle back around
This makes It worth my while
Another way to tell Time is by looking at a sundial
Time can be used wisely or wasted
Once it’s gone you can never replace It
Maybe Time doesn’t even exist
And life just is what it is
Now this got me thinking
That the present is the gift
This thing ticks and it toks
It’s a tower or a wristwatch
Time-is needed to evolve
The cicada to do its mating call
Someone else’s Time is not parallel to mine
But we make connections
To see who’s on the other line
One thing is for certain either you do
Or you don’t have the Time
Better late than never
Watch the moon and stars appear
Time- is of the essence in our atmosphere
This could be your last ticket
Or your last shot
Either way sometimes
Time- is all we got.

A lot of guys get lost in your eyes
But I found myself in those depths that galaxies rest in
Your eyes hug stars and sprinkle glitter for their shimmer when the sun wants to shine
I didn’t know it then but when momma would sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star it was a love song
Because I’m one of the dots to your constellation and the others are the children
Our love is so good it should be a sin
God forgive me, I know I’m not supposed to look directly at you
But your daughter has your eyes, and I can’t stop staring
She helps me stay centered with you when I get full of myself
Seeing my reflection in her eyes is one of my favorite things because it’s a moment of Trinity
God eyes saying straighten up son
Your eyes whisper I love you
My eyes catch us with His hands and say I’ll hold your heart
Followed by, I love you too
Our eyes share an embrace that never let’s go in silence
But anyone who sees the way I look at you hears the softness of a love song
They covet the way my eyes hold you like I hold the hand of our child
Their eyes have never seen a sight that sounded so pure
And anyone who sees the way your eyes reply to me, listens to that unforgettable poem on repeat
Then they get lost trying to find your gaze under my sunset
So, the closest thing to feeling that poem, is to hit repeat on this memory
I can’t help but smile when I see your eyes talk about us
p.s. your eyes make the best ASMR…

~The Light ✨

Every so often,
I fall into a hole
It’s dark and lovely
A haunting under control

It’s peaceful
And it’s quiet
But I easily get lost
When I’m too weak to fight it

Because sometimes I can’t see
Just feeling my way through
While at other times, my hope
Flashes the way back to you

I go searching, hoping to find
What wants to remain hidden
Sometimes I catch a glimpse
And wish to be forgiven

Often I sit and wonder
With the darkness closing in
How do I embrace what I can’t see?
And where do I even begin?

I guess that I’m doing it
Bleeding out pain for you to see
But the words that are forming,
Are the driving force guiding me

And even when I can’t find the light
Your presence, a silent knowing
You sit with me in the dark
Until the light in me is showing.

©️ Melinda Stone ✍🏼🖤🪽 #TheLight

Facebook Facebook,
Here we go again…
“Like if you agree!”
“Share and tag your friends!”

It’s all the same stuff,
just on a different day.
“I never make posts like this…”
“So I just wanna say…”

No one really cares,
this isn’t even real.
“Click the link below!”
“What a great deal!”

Scrolling and scrolling,
the hours fly by.
“Someone liked your post!”
“Someone went live!”

But we’re all missing out,
on a little thing called “life”.
A husband stares at his phone,
and ignores his lonely wife.

No one raises their kids,
it’s easier it seems…
Children don’t make noise,
when they stare at the screen.

I worry what it’s doing,
to our world and our minds.
It’s become a way of life,
or a sign of the times.

I feel like a prisoner,
and I know I’m not alone.
We’re all prisoners now,
that’s why it’s called a “cell” phone.