The Devil Flys By

Pointing fingers pretend to care

Burning eyes with jealous stares

Swollen tongues become impaired

Wicked souls are bared.

The devil flys laughing to and fro

Reaping what he didn’t sow

Free will creates a fabulous show

So many wonderful wicked souls.

Ringing his skinny hands he impatiently waits

For the bared souls of poisoned hate

Whose evil eyes and tongues create

A ticket to ride through hell’s flaming gate.

Hoping wicked souls can never see

The evil in their wicked deeds

Collecting enough is the key

Devil wins God’s on his knees.

Dream it LIVE IT!

Keep the faith against all

Who think small

Who believe you will fall

And don’t know how to stand tall.

Everyone never agrees

And some love to spread the disease

Of bringing your dreams to it’s knees

But it’s not the minority you seek to please

It’s only the majority that needs to agree.

If you have creative vision

Don’t let the minority create division

Stand strong like convicted religion

And don’t let minorities define your position.

Hold your dreams tight

Put up a fight

Let insecurities take flight

And keep doing what’s right.

If you feel it in your soul

You don’t need to be told

Whether your dreams will hold

Stand strong and be bold.

That’s the only way

Your dreams will last the days

Work hard and every day

Pay dues you have to pay

Work hard to have your way.

Then you will see

How happy you’ll be

When your dreams are real

Faith and work sealed the deal.

Thereafter you can say

To all those in the negative way

To bad you didn’t stay

And help me on my way

Have anything good to say

Now just get the hell away!

INTERNET CRITICS

If you don’t like

What I write

Please be polite

And do what’s right

If you don’t agree

And cannot see

The poet in me

I might catch the disease

Of trying to please

And lose my off beat creativity.

So even if you hate

Everything I create

And can’t appreciate

The rhyme I make

Who I am is at stake

And what you hate

Others actually might appreciate

But your hate

might create

A terminal quake.

So if you don’t like

What I write

Try to be polite

And do what’s right

Or I might kill your stupid ass tonight.

HA HA LOOK OVER THERE

Ha Ha Look over there

That lady with the crazy hair

Doesn’t she care

Whether people stare?

Ha Ha Look over there

That man without hair

Doesn’t he care

Whether people stare?

Ha Ha Look over there

That kid with the dirty bear

Doesn’t his mother care

Whether people stare?

Wait, hey look over there

That immigrant who stares

Is that some kind of dare

Something wrong with my hair

Something wrong with what I wear

It’s making me uncomfortable

Let’s get outta here.