Family

They never keep their eyes off you,
they never go away.
The only way to keep them happy,
is to do what they say.
They will never forgive you,
and they will never apologize.
You can see it in they way they look,
you can see it in their eyes.
They wont give you a break,
in their grasp they hold you tight.
They pray for your death,
before they fall asleep at night.

The Calm after the Storm

By Kacee Llewelyn

The thunder rolls, as the crowds walk in.

The storm we know, is about to begin.

As drops of color fight for a right,

As they try to create a brand new light.

A storm based on single dream,

In hopes to wash away racism with the nights stream.

And all through the night, innocent hearts prayed,

for the lightning and the thunder to fade.

The rain pounded on the windows and the window panes,

Reminding the confused of why it rains.

Yet in the eye of the nights storm,

The dream still remained all tattered and worn.

The rain did not give into the white man’s mistake,

It poured and it poured using all the rain it would take.

And little did we know because of the rain that night,

That in the morning there would be a brand new light.

As I sit on the sidewalk and remember the rain,

I know the world will never be the same.

The streets have been washed and the colors are so bright,

all because of a black man’s fight.

I look at my hand which is held by a color so dark,

And think of the time when this would leave a bad mark.

I see streets cleansed by an innocent dream,

and forget of the racism that was washed downstream.

I look at the smile next to me so bright,

So glad that ancestors put up that fight.

Seeing how the storm impacts me today,

I think the king at night when I pray.

I sitting here thankful for the calm after the storm,

I hold a little tighter this hand so warm.  

Savior

In that dark corner, down the hall
my skin mirrors the horrors, I have felt them all.
strapped to that table, the ropes that held me tight
The ones that let me suffer through out the night.
That light in your eyes, that mirrors your soul
your eyes stare into mine, they're as black as coal
I guess I deserve it, you say this is so
I guess I need to work on the girl I have come to know
slices in my skin, my blood begins to seep
you threaten to cut off my tongue, if i even start to weep
my blood runs off the table, you claim to release my sin
you say you are saving me from the tragic state that i am im in
girls like me you say, don't deserve to be alive
thank you for you sparing me, better I will strive

The Troop Leaders Sin

Innocent lives were ruined that day,
scars were made to never heal
as the boy scout leader
gave his troops the pill

Pain began to settle in,
addiction like one never knew
as troop of little boy scouts
discovered the drugs that they could do.

Years went by they were pack,
together the drugs they did
thinking they had lived
all the life they were meant to live

One by one they died off,
the drugs had given in
taking with it the memories
of the boy scout leaders sin.

Today the last troop member died
the addiction held him tight
but it wont protect the family
who cried themselves to sleep at night.

Devil Wearing an Angels Coat

A devil wearing an angels coat,
for years you've had your way.
you've make other people think
that your tricks are okay.
Others may not see it,
your ways they do not know,
the evil seed inside you that has begun to grow.
All the good throughout the years
that have simply turned you bad
as others hold on to the person
in their lives that they once had.
I hope oneday you'll shed the coat
and show the world the real true you.
So your loved ones will one day realize
what "love" and "kindess" can really do.

The True Meaning of Christmas

Ah! Christmas the most wonderful time of the year! Who wouldn't love Christmas? If you hate Christmas you must be communist! There is nothing better then embracing the spirit of Christmas. Nothing better then listening to Christmas carols while taking down your Halloween decortations. By the time December actually hits the songs have been so over played we are practically brain washed. Oh and everyone loves family time! All the teenagers are texting each other during the family party "yeah, i came because I have been horrible all year and need to comvince my parents at the last minute that I deserve the new iphone four." "oh really man?! I came for the food!!' I'd have to admit... My favorite time of the year is using the Santa excuse! "Son if you don't rub my feet, shovel the drive way, and give away your dog SANTA IS NOT COMING!" *secretly giggles to himsef... little does he know I am Santa* Oh yes and there is nothing better then being woke up at seven in the morning on the only day that I can sleep in to run upstairs only to find oranges and nuts in my stalking. Like really Santa, I bake you cookies and the best you can come up with is nuts?!
Although I never really feel the true meaning of Christmas until school starts back up and all the rich kids are wearing their really expensive clothes and showing off their new beats head phones. Yup. Christmas rocks... All the poor kids feel a little less loved and all the rich kids have more to brag about. 
Seriously, that whole giving and family stuff is so old fashioned. Please continue with the Christmas songs, "family time", and stalkings full of oranges and nuts!

Modern day Shakespeare

To cry, or not to cry-- that is the question:
whether 'tis nobler to hold it in
and prove myself strong
or let it out, this pain held in for so long.
And by letting it out, to cry, to weep--
No more, inside this pain so deep.
The heartache, and the mournful cries.
That flesh inside, it suffers and dies.
Devoutly to be wished. To cry, to weep--
to weep--per chanced to die,
aye, there's the comparison,
for in that weep, that my heart is in,
When we have shuffled off this mortal pain,
the pain is still, yet very insane
that makes holding it in so hard for me
for the weights of time, how painful they can be.
The witnesses thoughts, so vial it seems.
The hurt I feel is in his dreams.
The beatings from inside, and the gain,
I myself can't obtain.
For when I find myself in this state
with a sorrow? who would make.
To sigh and hurt under a weary strife,
I get nothing but pain from this life.
But the dread of hurt for tomorrow's day,
the undiscovered hurt, coming my way.
No return my strength, after my cry.
The strength that will forever die.
Than to hold it in, the pain I know of?
Thus, does make a coward of my love.
And thus the raw and suffering
is forcing a cry within my being.
And living in the moment still
with this pain, is it my will?
With this though, I turn away,
and hold in the pain for today-- cry you how,
Oh the pain!-- in thy heart will remain the same.