Inside The Mind Of Little Me

Until it creeps up to our door.

Our children conditioned to normalcy

Through the parenting replacement uproar.

A propaganda or two, fed through a reflection.

Child's play grooming our blessings.

You don't have time? Then slow down.

Stop feeding the machine.

The 1970s was one big sham.

You blame the counter culture,

A sex revolution to be had.

The addicts and cravings,

the worst kind of evil.

No one notices the house wives

Or the veterans of hopeless.

Stop the war! They cry!

All you see is a mirror.

You've let them take over

Not the hippies but your heros.

You must find someone to blame

For your child being gay

Or your daughter who is pregnant,

Before she ever walked her graduation day.

It's not my fault! It couldn't be!

But now you've gone and let a screen

Raise your precious little boy.

Bouncing breasts in an ad

A man left her for his toy.

Pictures of positions,

As a woman leaves with her child.

He isn't even 9 yet.

At least you didn't have to tell him.

For some odd reason

You check out when your needed

For things you can't control

When hiding is better than leading

As long as your character is preserved

You'll be just fine!

Just dont tell anyone what wasn't your fault

Sometimes I wonder if you're there.

When I really think and I really try,

When I'm inside my head

And I realize I'm alive

I wonder then if it is true.

I want to know what truth is,

But some say many things are.

Truth and Facts are different now.

I just want to know if you're there.

Barefoot Princess

Where did you go?

Your castles too high

To be standing all alone

Wandering royal

Where is your throne?

Your bed lies deep within

But you lie down below

What convinced you

Summer would never come?

What whispered too close

Red lines come undone

Winter's too cold

To take it in your hands

The angels caught you

Lights and sounds and colors. A Kaleidoscope of angels and devils.

Intricate patterns and designs from the quantum size.

Nothing could compare to the very goodness of God's own eyes.

To know you is to love you, and for that I wish to know it all.

On the very earth we own, the Lord rose to call.

No one, except the willing of the living after death.

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