Ace Of Black Hearts

Bronze Star - 2,422 Points (04/17/1984 / Homa Lousiana)

Who Will Take Responsibility For This Gift? - Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

What if the words you said were exactly as it is.
Out of darkness comes a heart to forgive.
No stone left unturned.
No matter how hot it gets.
Please do not fret.
This is not over just yet.
A pledge from the bottom of our soul.
A peace sign too your lips.
Deliverance in an unannounced package.
Just unwrap I await the surprised look in your eyes.
Yes I give you life.
So desperately needed even in times of treason.
We are not so blessed if we need a reason.
An precious gift is set upon the pedestal.
For all to see, for all believe.
Give him our best, show him we are not like all the rest.
Test in both faith, and love.
Chained is the spirit that know this not.
Diluted is the man who think this such a waste.
Do we not breath same air with a tongue to taste?
Arrogant is the soul that is so self involved he doesn't notice him at all.
More important things to do, says who?
Please do tell us how to judge ones character.
Take your acts of generosity and graceful charity.
Just a simple conversation and maybe a small gift will do.
Not to leave a rift in anothers stomach.
Starvation is but due to children's inability to share when they become all grown up.
Pictures sewn right into the dingy mattress.
Do tell us about it.
Not like it can be helped or avoided.
Where do you think you are living?
This is not the land of the free or the home of brave.
Being run by the truly depraved.
Pulling the strings from behind the curtains never to be seen.
But at least if it can not be stopped, give us hope, give a sense of peace and harmony among so many clusters of chaos.
Each one with movement and momentum.
A snake getting faster and faster.
Trying so hard to fix a disaster with some putty and plaster.
But the time is never given its proper due.
Always in a hurry to go, without ever knowing where.
Circles, a race track upon the mind.
Icicles going drip, drip.
Go ahead take sip the freeze is almost over.
As the heart grows fonder, the eyes get colder.
A weight to forever shoulder.
If you must, you must.
I will not deny you the right to sling your dust.
Just remember after you done, someone will need to clean it up.
Messes to be made, an undisclosed location is the destination of this parade.
If you can find it you doing better the me.
When the fog lifts I will finally be able to see.
But where will it be?
A destiny unanswered, the consequences of a cured cancer.
Over the wall there has been a breach.
A storm brewing in the warmer and salty waters.
Where everything seems to be so fine.
But there is somethings hidden underneath.
A wound so deep, cut into the skin and just maybe you begin to see.
A crisis of conscience, a crisis of bad choices in a very bad situation.
Sometime the solution is not upon you and never will be.
Accepting futile efforts, the portions your own size.
Does this make them easy to swallow?
Knowing you left your butt bare flapping in the air.
Special delivery, and with sting punishment received and situation changed never to go back the way it was again.
Sometimes all we have are our prayers for forgiveness.
And nobody will get rich off of it.
Sad to say but generally this candles burn away.
But every once in a while.
It is here to stay, to instill the truest form of humility.
Servitude and civility.
We are all but lowly servants as father and mothers keeper in a garden of roses.
We must make sure they all survive.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, December 1, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, December 2, 2013

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