BJ's blog: "Poetry and Such..."

The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveller, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference ...Robert Frost

By - ME;) Love, love, love, love. It is an obsession! On the minds of many, in the hearts of few. Instant?! I think not! Learned?! Possibly. It should grow great without fear! Sadly complications hinder it. So many blinded, so many lost, help them see. LET them SEE! Long suffering, meekness, charity too... Actions, so much they say. Words, simple enough to turn from. Trust! Constant, everlasting, and unbending it should be. Not leaving out forgiveness, my weakness, so simple to do when you love, many forget. These, THESE! They are parts of love, not infatuation, not obsession, but pure love! A choice! A decision! Few can make, most neglect. Should GROW! Needs feeding, nurturing as a plant, as a pet, as a child. These are that which you should know! To know, to make, to feel, to allow, to show...

~The War Inside~ I've been to hell and back, And lost my women in the process. I went to war a boy, And came back a man. I did some things to survive, I've killed and taken life. It's not something to be proud of, And I cannot live with this burden. I've killed children, Children who hadn't lived. I did it to survive, They said I'd come back a man. But I've come back mentally fucked up, And now I'll never be the same. I pushed the one person I loved away, All because I left to go to war. I thought it was to fight for freedom, And become a man. But I didn't come back a man, I came back a baby killer. I used to be warm and loving, But war has left me cold and heartless. And I want to be warm again, But I'm afraid I'll never be that again. So I left to war a man, And supposedly returned a man. But I'm lost and hurting inside, Hurting because I'm a baby killer. I remember a time when I was happy and whole, But now I'm broken and depressed. And I feel like a death is the only answer, So they say in war you leave a boy. And return a man. I left a boy and returned less of a man, And I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused. By: Michael Williams

What He's Done For Me What He's Done For Me BY: Lydena Toombs For so long I've been lonely Drowning in my tears, No one there to listen Or help me face my deepest fears. No one there to shelter me From this world so full of pain, No one showed me rainbows Every time I saw the rain. No one there to give a damn About my broken heart, No one to pick up the pieces Every time I fell apart. But, finally someone came along And took the time to know, All the hurt and pain That I tried hard not to show. He took the time to realize How much I've had to pay, For every time I gave of me There was something taken away. He took the time to look inside This heart as cold as stone, He found that there was something there No one else has ever known. He found what I'd been hiding there Brought it out to show the world, That there was so much love inside Of such a lonely girl. He knew what I was feeling So he set my mind at ease, Then he did the impossible - He gave my soul to me. So, now I'm going to take this time To say 'Thanks' for all he's done, And hope he knows I love him more Then life or anyone.

Let no more. . . Let no more. . . By Josh Pruit I stare at the casket; Draped with the nation's cloth. I'm momentarily startled; As the guns go off. Another fallen soldier; Being laid to rest. I struggle to breathe; For this tightness in my chest. The bugler so smooth; As he hits every note. It is hard to swallow; Because of this lump in my throat. Tears fall like rain; As I look to the sky. No matter how many times I hear it; Taps still makes me cry. The bugle now silent; As we pray for the dead. I gather myself; As I bow down my head. Lord bless these heroes; Who have given th Who have given their lives. Comfort their children; Their husbands and wives. Let us not forget; They have given their all. Let the bugle be silent; Let no more soldiers fall.

Dottie Allen is my cousin and wrote this sometime last year... enjoy! One Day I Met a Man By Dottie Allen One day I met a man, just home form the war. He was so full of pain, my heart just tore. He carried his burdens like they were wrapped in a sack, and stumbled around like they were tied to his back. I asked him why he didn't set them aside, He said, "I fought for you and I did it with pride." But I wasn't there, so how would I know the pain he went though Unless he told me so. . . he said, Pain can be like a light that's so bright, like a bomb exploding deep in the night. Pain can be a heart breaking sight, like a best friend dying in terror and fright. Pain can be strong; it can make you feel weak. Stumbling, gumbling, shelter you seek. It can take your breath away! It can take you to your knees! I begged him to stop. Please, Mister, please. If you want to go on down life's winding road, you have to find a way to lighten your load. In honor of them, let go of the pain, so the life they gave wasn't given in vain. Remind your sons and daughters so they appreciate all the sacrifices made to make this country great. Tell them you went over to defend democracy. You were once a soldier and fought for liberty! But they were not there, so how would they know, that if it weren't for you they could never know that . . . . Love can be a light that's so bright, like the light in your love's eyes when you're holding her tight. Love can be a heart breaking sight, like a baby's first breath when he enters this life. Love can be strong; it can make you feel weak. Pulsing, throbbing, yet ever so sweet. For those who didn't make it, we will 'ever mourn, but you're here with us friend, you've weathered the storm. If your buddies were here, they;d want you to know you should live for them, laugh for them, and let love grow. So in all of our tomorrows we will hear no more, one day I met a man, just home from the war.