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His Last Message To MeLight brown hair, blue eyes and precious smile a reflection of him.
Little hands reach up to touch my cheeks.
A sweet, soft voice saying, "Daddy home?"
Reaching out, I take her hand in mine.
How can I tell her daddy's not coming home?
Tears coming to me eyes, I turn my head.
Not yet old enought to understand, she looks to his chair.
Looking into her beautiful eyes his face I see in her.
My heart begans to beat so hard, I fear she feels it too.
The smell of his aftershave lotion still lingers on her shirt.
The scent breaking down my emotional locked door.
Setting her down, she waddles to his chair and touches the cushion.
Visions of him holding her on his lap play in my head.
The reality of his absence hits me like a bolt of lighteneing.
The sting of it feels as if someone has set me on fire.
The pain that racks my heart is as if someone has removed my very soul.
I cannot breath.
I cannot speak.
I cannot move.
Looking toward Heaven, I whisper, "GOD what do I do?"
A warmth wrapping aroun
My heart is heavy.
My ears ring with the words spoken among many.
My lips trembling with words held back.
My fears of perception clawing me at will.
Why must we sit in silence and pain?
Look to the left.
Look to the right.
Look into your own soul.
What do you see, hear and feel?
Why must we remain unheard in the ever growing crowd?
Stand straight, tall and proud.
Speak from your heart with truth and love.
Walk with your head held high and your eyes on GOD.
Take each step of the journey that is before you with courage and faith.
When will we take up the cross and follow him?
Let not the fear that of what others think or feel stand in your way.
Let not the opinions of others lead you astray.
Let not the light that shines within you be blown out.
Let not the ways of the world destroy what was given to you by GOD's Grace, Mercy and Love.
If we do these things with a pure hearts, can we not change the world?
Written by: Hillbilly Girl
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More