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Blood and Family

It broke my heart

when my son didn’t

call me dad

just because he doesn’t have

my blood.

 

I took him to the games

and watched the movies

that he shouldn’t be watching

but nothing seemed to get noticed.

 

I never heard “Thank you Daddy.”

The kids tease him over it.

The kid’s parents pity him for nothing

because I do all I can to make him happy.

 

I’m always there when he needs help.

His biological father was never around.

He took advantage of his mother

and treated her like gum.

 

Something to chew and spit out

once he sucked up the flavor.

He missed out on the best thing possible.

One night it came out.

 

No hesitation, no reason to say it,

he just told me out of the blue

and that was the best feeling I’ve had in years.

Now we’re a family and I die for it.

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A Trusted Madman

He lives alone

doesn’t go out to enjoy life

and most people ever talks to him.

The only person he talks to

is himself,

he’s his own best friend.

 

He goes to work

and does his job

with pride and joy

then goes home to sleep

then wake and repeat.

 

He goes to church

and gets on his knees to pray.

Then he goes into confession

and gives the priest a reason

to be thankful for his mental health.

 

His mind isn’t closed or open

but broken.

So why is he allowed to walk the streets

and be around the people who fear him?

Because he’s less harmless than a politician,

a corrupt judge or cop.

 

Because he doesn’t spread gossip

or wish ill will towards anyone.

He doesn’t pretend to be a friend

to someone he would stab in the back

for profit or promotion.

 

Everything about him is

and open book.

That’s more than what could be said

about “normal” people.

A Bully at his Reunion

There is nothing more embarrassing

than seeing the people I hanged with

and they ended up more successful than me.

I was the one voted to succeed!

 

I was the star in wrestling,

I was tackling quarterbacks in football,

I did work in drama,

I was voted king of the prom.

 

There’s my queen!

She’s even hotter than she was back then.

If she looked like that back then

I wouldn’t have cheated on her so many times

and teased her about her weight.

 

How can she marry someone so ugly?

Her husband must have money

There’s no way she can love that stick figure

in that fancy suit with shiny shoes.

People like him I use to step on

after I got him to do my homework.

 

Wait a minute,

that is the guy that use to do my homework.

This is bullshit!

How can one injury affect so much!

 

I didn’t have the best grades

but were they that bad that I couldn’t get a real job?

I mean I was a star when I attended here.

I busted my ass to make it to the pros

but I didn’t even get the chance.

 

Now I’m here with people that did less than me

and their happy with their success.

I’m just sitting here alone at a table

and bathing in my misery.

This is not fair.

Ode to Friday the 13th

A tortured boy is buried in a lake

and counselors don’t seem to mind.

They’re busy watching boobies shake

and wanting to smack that behind.

 

Now they’re running for their lives

from a monster born of scorn.

He stands tall with thick black eyes

and leaves a trail of bodies beaten and torn.

 

His face changes with every death,

but the horror stays the same.

In the final minute when they’re out of breath,

they’re realize running is done in vain.

 

Those that survive can’t gloat.

because the boy can’t expire.

Whether they leave by car or boat,

they all meet the knife, water or fire.

 

He is the monster of the crystal lake,

a shell of a boy that was left to die.

He kills for vengeance sake

and to silence his mother’s cry.

 

If you seek him, then beware.

He won’t haunt your dreams

because that monster is another nightmare.

Friday the 13th is his day, and he wants screams.

Healing a Broken Heart

Why do you do this to yourself?

You rather live with heart ache

and never know joy or passion

because you can’t get out of this hole.

You were dragged down

by an iron ball and

got wrapped up in the chains.

You sunk down to this level

and you never left.

You drown yourself in drink

and spend more time in the past.

Your children only know dysfunction

and every day you become a stranger

to them.

Well I’m here now

and I want to give you hope.

If you’re so scorned and don’t trust me

then that’s fine, but here is my hand.

What do you have to lose?

Casting the Stone

As I walk up to the only gates that matter

I see three souls stuck in the clouds.

To my amazement,

They were sad, crying.

 

I thought it was because of the ones they left behind.

Their wives, children, and beloved friends

and the memories they spent with them.

But that’s not it.

 

The souls appeared to have steam rising

from their clothes.

I feared the worse for them.

I walk up to Him and I say,

 

“Hello, it’s been a long time coming.

May I ask why are they there and not joining me

in paradise?”

 

He says, “They thought themselves innocent.

They threw stones that started

building a foundation

that lead them to their damnation.

 

The first one is guilty of Murder.

No he did not kill his parents for money or his

best friend for his wife.

His killing spree started with ants, using the sun

to burn them and it didn’t end there.

Many animals followed, some were for sport,

others because he believed they had no value.

Pitting them against each other for money

or running over them on the street even though

he had time to stop and let them go.

All life is precious no matter how big or small

in size and purpose.

 

The second one is guilty of Baring False Witness.

He believed himself pure of faith and resented

all those who didn’t have the same conviction.

He memorized every line, he attended every ceremony,

He spent more time reading the word but

not understanding the meaning of the word.

He soon became consumed by that one fault.

The corrupted that followed would

be safe from his wrath and those

who would have the courage to stay innocent,

The scars he inflicted will now be measured unto

him.

 

The final one is guilty of Stealing.

No he didn’t steal a candy bar from a vendor

or a man’s prom date.

He stole homes and he stole futures hiding it

behind promise of progress.

He mentioned so much that could be gained,

before those who would gain great loss could fight back,

everything was already gone.

He claimed to be making better homes

and better neighborhoods but while he

reap the rewards of his new design,

hundreds were left out in the cold.

Unable to move back in those expensive new homes,

they now suffered in the streets while those

who already had homes took up more space.

Money isn’t the only thing that can be stolen

and here it has no value compared to a life.

 

That is why they wait for damnation.

They believed themselves without sin

and constantly kept throwing stones.

Now those stones will weigh them down into the inferno.”

 

My mind is full with fear now.

“Well then I won’t waste your time, I am guilty of such

sins too. I hunted deer in the season, I’m not the most devoted, and I have stolen from time to time.

Sometimes it was a candy bar and sometimes it was more.”

 

He says, “But you never hid it.

You can admit your sins unto me

and that counts for something.

Now have a seat and let us begin.”

 

From my poetry novel, Faces of the Masses. Available now on Amazon. Thank you and until the next is written. https://www.amazon.com/Faces-Masses-Anthony-Labson-ebook/dp/B00R1OHYZW/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

The Devil’s Mask

It comes back,

every Halloween,

it comes back.

 

That mask that one man

made famous on a historic night.

When he tainted a beloved holiday.

 

Now it’s seen every day through photographs

because of greedy producers

and adored by a legion of fanatics.

 

A night where melted chocolate

mixed with the blood of a girl

when the last thing she saw, was it.

 

A mask meant to amuse but met with

curiosity which turned into the theme of Halloween.

Eyes that could burn angels opened for the first time.

 

A smile that showed no joy

even as he moved closer to her,

taking all the joy from the world in each step.

 

A face meant to meet laughter

but in suspense only heard terrifying silence

when he raised that knife over his head.

 

One stab to the left shoulder, another stab in the back

and one more stab to the side of her belly.

The final one met her heart under her breast.

 

That moment became a fixed point in time

where proof of good and evil was presented.

No corruption, no influence, just evil.

 

Lucifer was released on Halloween

and his costume was a child destined to wear his mask.

Help Me!

Help Me!
Before this knife enters

my accepting heart

with the help of my willing hand.
Help Me!

Before I take a swim

off this bridge

into the Hudson River

in the climate of December.
Help Me!

Before I take the ultimate aspirin.

With all the issues going on inside my head

it can only be solved with this number 38.
Help Me!

Before I take this last drink.

I feel numb and my eyes are nearly closed,

and only one more is needed to finish the job.
Help Me!

Before I make myself taller

with this rope around my neck.

Maybe then the world won’t treat me so small.
Help Me!

Before I light this match

and drop it on my kerosene clothes.

Then I will become my very own firework.
Help Me!

This is all I have to say.

But, instead, I give you signs

just to see if you pay attention.
But, instead, you simply turn away.

Somebody please see

that I need you to

help me.

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