The Volunteer

I can’t say I wasn’t thinking, because I was.
I can’t say I had second thoughts, because it was clear that I was certain.
If I were not afraid, I would be lying to you.
My heart is telling me this is the right thing to do.
After this life, some will say I was crazy,
Some will say I was stupid.
I decided to take the path less chosen.
I don’t know where I’m headed.
If bravery describes the decision that I just made then so be it.
I volunteered, no turning back now, my eyes are open.

Influence

I walked into a nursing home and the residents were putting wrestling moves on the aids. Hmm. Could they’ve been watching too much wrestling?
I look on the playground and I notice bullies being handcuffed. Hmm. I wonder what’s going on where they live?
I walked into a city and noticed that all of the races of people in the city were still practicing segregation. Hmm. They must not get out much.
My one friend gets upset when his wife doesn’t cook. Hmm. Could it be because she’s a construction worker or was never taught?
Times have changed, I guess that’s why the sun comes out everyday, we have to have something to look up to. I can say that the sun is one of the few things that does the same thing everyday. Hmm. Could the universe be just a big machine with astronauts messing up the gears?
She wears a pillowcase on her head because the doctor told her it would help her sleep better. Hmm. Did she read the instructions right?
He comes out of that church and always thinks the world is coming to an end. Hmm. He must of got the message.
Influence...influence...influence... When will I learn?

The Bad Habit

I can’t stop thinking about it.
It’s calling me.
It won’t stop talking to me.
It wakes me up out of my sleep.
I get through a day or two and the craving gets stronger.
It’s like it’s chasing me.
It’s embarrassing, I hope I never get caught in the act.
I can’t shake it.
A day would be perfect without it.
I’ll continue to count the days on the calendar until it’s defeated.
I can’t beat it.
It takes control of me.
It’s clear, that I’ve got it bad.
I’m human after all, I have a bad habit.

The Melting Pot

In my verbal speech to the diverse nation, I digressed. Bang! Someone shot me for expressing myself. It was my duty to serve and protect, yet I had been shot by the people whom I had sworn on oath to serve. In contempt, I sat in the hospital and watched as they patched up my womb. I soon realized that I had lived in a place where nothing makes sense, the women are easily deceived and I had fallen victim because I wanted to do what was right. Conflicted, and eager to get well, I looked around the room as the media slithered their way into a story. Someone even knocked out the air conditioner to protest my actions. I believed in my vote and now I’m a victim. With no air conditioner, I watched as protesters stood outside the hospital, some had stop climate change signs and stop the violence t-shirts. In deep despair, I climbed on the ledge of the old hospital window, wounded and all, I shouted into the melting pot, “I, my family and all who’ve served beside me, have given everything for the will of the public, and this is the thanks we get. Open borders, gun violence and even dead children in the womb.”
The nurses rushed in to save me, but it was too late, for I dived into the melting pot and none of the citizens that I’d spent my whole life serving bothered to catch me.
The Melting Pot

Crying Babies

Once upon a time; hold up, give me a second, someone is in the room. It’s a human baby crying. I don’t know what to do. I can feel the baby’s pain, he’s upset about something. The child is teaching me a very hard lesson about life. I then take my shirt off of my back to comfort the child. He stops crying, I smile, I think the little fellow likes me. Let me get you to understand where I am. It’s late, I’ve given some girl a ride home and she lives in some pretty harsh conditions. But with her smile, life isn’t so bad but why does this feel so strange? It’s better when you show love, I guess. I start pondering... this kid could grow up and give me a reason to keep living someday. It’s too bad he’s not mine. This little fellow could be the only friend I have, I guess that’s why babies cry. This is where we get to the end of the story, because I just took my shirt off of my back to care for someone’s child. For some reason this story has to be personal because strangers can end up at the wrong place at the right time. I go down stairs and his mother is gone. She abandoned him, as hard as this situation is, I think his mother knew the whole time what she was doing. This was a setup from the beginning. For a moment I feel sad...I’m in a very awkward situation. I review my own life, my heart skips a beat, I’ve been played. I slowly walk into the room confused and angry. Don’t ask me why but the kid fell straight to sleep in my shirt, I pause for a second, the little guy reminds me of myself. This must be my crossroad, this must be the time when I have to sacrifice, the time when I have to be the good guy in a story so I take him in.
Seeing him attend his graduation 17 years later made it all worth it. It’s been a tough road and I just about have nothing left but this is a good day. I’ll accept it, I have no regrets. Divine law gave me a choice to raise a child and the son came out the next day. Oops, I mean the sun came out the next day.   This was the story that saved my life, I felt sad so I started typing away. The story of crying babies. In sorrow and pain they somehow have a way of throwing back a lifeline to someone having to deal with reality. We never know how the story ends we just hope for the best.
The End

Lady of the night

In high school, I worshiped this girl. I used to see her walking home in the evening hours past curfew. She had this look in her eyes, her face was filled with sorrow. One of her friends told me her story, it turns out that there was a reason why that glow in her eyes was no more. Her step father had an eye for young attractive women and at night he would do things to her that would turn her into a different kind of girl. Some say that once a girl loses the purity of not being touched, it changes her perception of life and sadly she becomes a lady of the night, searching for the light at the end of a dark tunnel. Many men end up trying to save her but usually end up caught in her web. The tunnel is dark, it’s better just to let her find her way home. One look of desire could destroy everything.

All I have left is a dream

It’s 8:08pm and I’m at a crossroad, don’t know which way to turn. I’ve run a mile headed for two. I’ve lost so many people along the way. A voice in my head keeps telling me to call it quits, the world  is too big to discover. One mind cannot overcome obstacles that add more weight by the minute. Grandpa, Uncle Jim and Uncle Johnny and so many family members and friends are gone. Heartache after heartache, standing at the food kitchen with a book all alone. “I shall finish this book, I shall finish this book,” I keep reminding myself for motivation. For the many times that I’ve fallen, I somehow get back up with less than what I had before. I’ll take my little camera and tripod that I bought at a thrift store and make a miracle, all I have left is a dream, for reality has failed me.