Now and then
I feel the scales of justice tilt my way
It’s an uncommon feeling
A subtle breeze sifting its way cautiously through the trees
All at once I feel it’s might
Fairness brings a power not often experienced nor appreciated

In this sometimes-squalid world of ours
Truth and justice seldom arrive on a white stallion
More often they’re stolen by self-righteous greed
Gale force winds of injustice
Contributing to enormous storms of pain
Bringing heartache to many unfortunates

The blindfolded lady
Too soon gone, but not forgotten
That takes time
For her leaving is a bitter pill
That glorious feeling of righteousness and truth
Must be ripped away, it’s not freely given up

Sometimes I feel naked
Down to truth and bone
Life is often unfair
And though we must fight for what’s right
We can’t let what’s wrong
Consume us

a daffodil grows, all alone
beneath the tree, it will never be known
a boy is coming, the flower tries
please lovely boy, the flower cries
notice my beauty, notice my soul
the boy walks by, he starts to cry
why won’t anyone notice me
if only the boy knew
about the daffodil under the tree
A boy is a daffodil

When I was a girl
I thought I could be anything I wanted
I didn’t realize I would grow up
To be a woman
That I was forever ‘and her’
Instead of them
That my father loved me
As an exception
And I would have to witness my sisters
Wither away in happiness
I found out that I was not the ‘public’
In public transportation
That I needed to switch my grocery run times
Every now and then
Discovered the places where a hat
Could be the best weapon
On Sundays, I dress up and buy pretty roses for my table
To keep from remembering that
If someone wanted
There was nothing I could do to stop them

I wish I was happy, but it feels so far, 
A light out of reach, like a distant star. 
Is it too much to ask, to find peace in this race, 
When I’m lost in the crowd, seeking my own place?

I want to be different, to stand apart, 
With dreams that burn fierce in the depths of my heart. 
Yet the world spins around, with a ceaseless hum, 
And I wonder if my time will ever come.

I see myself rising, at the top of it all, 
Where the doubts and the whispers no longer call. 
But happiness feels like a fleeting embrace— 
I chase it, but it slips, like wind in a chase.

Still, I dream in the silence, in the calm of the night, 
That one day I'll shine in my own perfect light.

Ink,
flavor that still tempts me
color green,
and black,
red,
but there is no white
like there is no black note
two flavors we cannot see
to make a better world
circle,
a triangle,
squares,
but we cannot see them
drawn in pen
words in ink will be
tomorrow?