The Trio

Hello people,
so glad you came in from the cold
I've got a little tale to tell,
a story that must be told.

It involves three little boys, a lady, and a man.
They were called a family, they lived in a sardine can.

The bones they can be eaten, they crumble with a crunch.
There were funny times, here among this bunch

There was another figure, usually within the house
This pet wasn't a housecat, nor a cute little mouse.
The grim reaper, himself, lived here in this house.
He hid behind tables, he hid behind chairs,
he often changes colors, he often avoids stares

The dirty plates stacked up all over the table.
The man got up, and went to bed, unless being drunk, left him unable
The kids, well they just spun, out of control.
Left with short answers, to fill the hole in their soul

I guess if that was all, that the kids had had to bear,
that might have been okay, they might have thrived while there
But there was this other side, that often liked to hide

 Hatred, violence, and anger, The Trio often came inside.
They felt right at home there, among the darkness and the dirt.
There seemed to be no limit, on just how much they hurt.

The children learned to use their hands, for more than to create
They learned to curl fingers to fists, and a lesson had been missed.
For hands can create pain, they do it every day
They always go the same place, when you do it that way.

The kids were not killers, even though they had held guns.
They kids had to settle problems, like they do when having fun
It was ok to hit each other, for boys settle things this way.
There should have been a different thing, taught to them that day.
I don't think you should blame their father, he ONLY knew that way.

Over time, the Trio grew warmer, even welcoming
The people had no fucking idea, of what they were becoming

The blood it tasted vile, and yet it made them smile
You just sort of let it fester, over a little while

At least you venture outside, the sun does truly shine
You ripen, and gain color,
like a grape, along a vine.

One day you find you're free from all of this.
Anger becomes empty, hatred becomes a lie.
You end up confused, and to learn, and to learn?
Well you must try.

Circles and Lines

Draw a circle, draw a line. One is ours, and one is mine
Take a walk, find a path, like the fact it is tree lined

sidewalk lays out the way, my feet need softer ground today.
leave the path, stay on the line, find a circle, yours and mine

walking tall, arms open wide,
 one love for us all, and it flows inside

night is black this time of year
all the colors live in here

pain can linger, at the tip of your finger
you can clutch your heart, you can shoot the gun
for your brand new start, you are fast, you can run

The black spot on the sun, the butterfly in the spider's web,
the skeleton choking on the crust of bread,
they were the same, The Police had said

So everything is my soul, the brightest light, the darkest hole,
the tree, the grass, even a blind mole

if I am you and you are me, we are we, and he and she,
you, me, the rock, the tree, the thing still hidden, in a distant sea

If this number of one, can get it done,
it should be this way, for everyone

Confusion

It all makes sense to me, right now.
I understand my pain, where it came from, and how.
I know it hurt, I know it stung. I tasted the tears.

I have spent hours alone, days, even years.
I have alot of things figured out. I can add, subtract,  multiply, and divide.
Yet when it comes to the most important thing of all, love, I seem to run and hide.

It's not that I don't need it. It's not that it isn't sweet.
It's so powerful when it visits me, I hate to admit defeat.

Confusion is all over, it's the only thing I know.
Confusion is all over, a light the path must show

Each day is a journey, the path can be quite long.
 I get up, smile, and rise.I try to listen to, or, even write a few songs.

I am the one who holds the key, to the room of peace, and light.
I can't turn that key alone, though try to, I just might.