Miss America

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Darling, you were a beauty.

Child of Venus, daughter of desire;

Men fought and slaughtered for your hand.

Darling, you were a hero.

Defiant infant, weather-worn warrior;

Influence lifted you above the clouds.

Worshiped, adored, pursued–a billion dreams you fulfilled.

Darling, what did you do?

One hundred times two,

Broken vows, homeless nights,

Whiskey bottles, legal battles,

Cigarettes and white powder in bathrooms.

Blood on your hands, filth on your soul,

Count to forty-four, your time is up.

Darling, if only you could save yourself.

Beautiful woman turned broken glass,

Marilyn Monroe reincarnate,

Descending from grace, burning as you fall.

– k.h.

© February 2017 | Placer County, California

XXI. Another Day

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I think I was about ten years old

Watching the news with my dad.

I didn’t see nothing but tears and blood

And a bunch of people looking so mad.

“That’s war,” I was told.

I said, “How? That ain’t nothing like the games I have.”

I couldn’t grasp the sense of an innocent child

Dying by the hands of a grown man.

And while some kids raised on cartoons,

Young girls making money in dark rooms.

We all deserve a decent meal.

Why his belly so soft? Why she holding that hard spoon?

And where is my head of state?

If crime pays, talk peace, still engaging in heavy arms trade.

In the jungle that we call Sin City,

While life rules, survival of the fittest.

– “Another Day” by Nico & Vinz

38. Shuffle

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This gets deep, I’m not gonna lie. The rules are basically: put your music on shuffle and write a little about the first ten songs that come up. Of course, I cheated and picked out ten songs I could actually form a cohesive thought about, otherwise this would be pointless and boring. 🙂 Anyways, enjoy the deep, uncharted thoughts of my little brain.

Continue reading “38. Shuffle”

Through the Eyes of a Teen

“Land of the free and home of the brave.”

A phrase that surrounds me each and every day.

But I look all around. Do I truly see freedom?

I turn on the news. Is it freedom I’m seeing?

The stories I hear, the things that I see,

Can’t possibly make the freedom bells ring.

Out on the streets, young and old are abandoned,

And skin color dictates how people are treated.

Women must fight for a voice of their own.

Suppressing religion is becoming a norm.

When voices rise up, a deaf ear is turned,

Leaving the helpless to fall, crash, and burn.

They call out for help, but all is in vain,

For those meant to help them put victims in chains.

I’m looking around through the eyes of a teen

Thinking, “Where is the freedom that I should be seeing?”

All these and more leave my young heart in pain,

Cause God knows what’s coming if things do not change.

– kh.

© January 2015 | Sacramento, California