The helpless of my heart;
Pleads to remove these burdens.
My mind and I
Are having debatable
Conversations on whether I’m
Fine or not,
But my settings start to
Twist with my plot.
I was here,
Then there.
I’m so caught in my mind,
I didn’t notice the eye stares.
A normal day for me is rare.
Preparing myself for my long
Journey walk.
Only ashes and dust comes out
As I begin to talk.
Black is surrounding me with a splash
Of blood.
The insides of my hands is *****,
And my fingernails are full
Of mud;
From where I tried to bury;
My sins.
I try to drink my soul away
Just in case I don’t get in.
I close my eyes to a million
Memories,
Good and bad.
They flash before my eyes,
Like a movie being replayed.
The devil is feasting on me,
From Marci soul I prepared
And accidently made.
I feel homeless in time.
I feel I’ve been gone for
A decade.
Nothing will never change,
And my grin will remain false.
My pearly white teeth I smile
Will remain fault
To what’s hidden beneath.
My warm hugs I give for a greet,
Is only a cold shoulder I give
Because no one knows the
Real me.





-Marci H.

I left a mark;
A stain of my love
Onto your heart the very same
Day you met me.
I took the bus home,
And you took the taxi.
We made an eye contact,
And your smile was very catchy.
I almost missed the bus,
And you almost missed
Your taxi.
I glazed out the fogged,
Uncleaned window,
And you glazed down low;
At your heart beat that steadily
Pumped.
I seen your taxi # the night
I got off the bus.
There I walked over,
And seen you sitting there.
You didn’t see me because of
Your heart beat that caught your
Attention.
The same smile you gave me;
Was the smile before your name
Was mentioned;
So I called you guy.
I stood in the street
Waiting for you to
Notice me.
Maybe if you would look up
And smile again;
This time I would've crack a grin…
But there I stood on the
Hollow, dark, gloomy, misty
Street called Maine,
And there you remained;
In the taxi car;
With your head down, looking
At your heart beat
That I stained.



-Marci H.

Our destinations lies in our own hands.
Dirt will be spilled on our names
Just to say;
We have a few fans,
But we’re still moving slow
While there’s no time left.
We’re falling out of place,
And on the edge of the clef.
Why?
We may perhaps ask;
The common question that is,
And will always be asked.
Even Albert Einstein asked questions
That he never held back.
We don’t live for today because
We’re scared to open our eyes.
Everything is a living nightmare hidden
In terror disguise,
But here’s our favorite question,
Why?
Why, we may never know why
The world really spins and move.
Scientists aren’t able to prove,
The changes, and different experiences
We go thru;
Not even a psychologist,
Or school.
We live in a generation,
Where being evil rules,
Killing is fun,
And swag is cool.
What happened to life?
The real meaning and definition.
The cool season, and the feel of
Being loved and seen by
Recognition.
Blazing temper fuels the world,
Along with sad frowns that we put on
For the show that is titled
“The confused clown.”
We are our own destination.
We live captivated under circumstances
We invade, spilling out our cries;
While playing Charades.
We get too hung in a daze.
We are our own destination…
Just wait

  

  -Marci

Today is your birthday,
And I should be happy,
But my grief from your lost
Is causing me despondency.
Our memories flash in my head constantly,
And honestly,
I still wish you was here so I can be
Daddy’s little
Girl
To.
Maybe that’ll take away my
Fears
Of guns and bullet wounds.
The blood that splatters and fumes,
And nothing that I can do to stop
My mind that assumes
The president will continue to let
This resume in the sake
Of living I wish I had you to groom
My life when needed.
I see little girls hugged in their daddies arms,
And all I can do is close my eyes
While my insides are screaming.
I wish this despair would go away.
Lord is this a wakeup call
For the sins I have to pay?
The grief that takes over my
Life,
And the non-existence of allay,
But you know everything happens for
A reason,
Even though sometimes in my heart
I feel treason of betrayal and
Cool season.
Daddy my time with you
Was very
S
H
O
R
T.
I’ve became anti-social,
And built my own private
Fort.
Lord I have no resorts, and I’m down to my last.
Lord what am I supposed to do when,
School, friends, family, and life
Kicking me in the a$$?
Daddy you’re rested up and gone,
I just pray you left me a spot
Next to you when I get
Home.
I pray when I start feeling like this
That you’ll never leave me
Alone.
Daddy I will try and make
My success seen for your sake,
And finish what you didn’t.
So upon your decease,
Daddy may you rest in peace.
~October 27,2001- November 16,1974~



Love, Your Daughter
Marci Henderson.