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Imperfect Saint... Remember in silence the kind souls Who sacrificed their own few comforts In exchange for lives of servitude; Poverty and chastity are their provisions For the sake of many not as fortunate, They choose to go without some luxuries Or even those more precious objects Society seems to always take for granted Remember services rendered in altruism To fully embrace their destitute siblings; Healing the wounded and tending crops Whenever others were at times unable, Be aware of those who fought for change And advancement of every race of mankind; Some of them compromised their existence, Becoming martyrs for the greater benefit Remember that they're still only human; No matter what the extent of their deeds, All of those we revere long after death Were born of human flesh and blood Charitable works change life for the better But do not completely purge imperfections; For a saint is but a sinner who once fell, Yet was able to pick up and try again. Submitted by Raven Aurora From:Mississippi E-mail: immortal_interrupted@yahoo.com Date/Time of Posting:May 07 2003 / 12:12:59

His Gifts Some folks call them tribulations I just call them wondrous gifts. When a trial is conquered at last my heart celebrates and lifts. You see, He allowed abuse so that I could learn to live with pain. Could share my story with other women living under that strain. He gave me frail heath, for which I am grateful, it taught me compassion. He gave me times with no clothes so I would not be a slave to fashion. He gave me my homelessness to teach me to cherish this room of mine. He gave me disability in His wisdom, so I would be able to write my rhyme. He gave me no loving relatives, so I ask everyone to join my family. People as dear to me, as loved as any growing on a “tree”. He gave me poverty so I could cherish those few precious things of my own. Never will I cease to appreciate all the loving seeds the Lord has sown. So call them bad luck, someone’s out to get you, whatever gets you through the night in your lonely, hurting life. I call them His precious gifts given in love to help me through life’s strife. Submitted by Sherry Asbury From:Portland, Oregon E-mail: ladyuvrhyme@aol.com for more Great poems by sherry ~Sister wolf~ visit Starlite cafe poems & moontowncafe.com Date/Time of Posting: Apr 12 2003 / 19:50:20

Something I long for something worth my time, something I can do without feeling sublime. Something stable that wont fade away, something that will be there just for me everyday Something simple that's all I ask, nothing associated with complicated tasks. Something plain just for me but big enough for the whole workd to see. Well I've tried theater, opera, and even art but poetry is what flows from myheart. Well if I cant have something than give me someone who can see, see me for who i am just plain jane me. See how i love the plays, the poetry and the art and everything that flows from my heart, and if that is to much to ask from even you then me just me will simply have to do. Submitted by natasha bryant From:atlanta, ga E-mail: angelmuffin101@hotmail.com Date/Time of Posting: Mar 14 2003 /23:31:00

The lesson never learned Searching for what we were never knowing what we had there is always something coming but is it good or bad what will come to be people are too stubborn to see as it is now soon it will be were setting it free the lesson never learned love should not be demanded but earned something is coming it just takes time but time we don't have much of mayhem and carnage we kill each other no one left to recover streets are now crypts here comes apocalypse. Submitted by Jason Ryan Qualls E-mail: jason2voorhees@aol.com Date/Time of Posting: Feb 14 2003 / 13:36:56

You Were There You were there when I needed someone to talk to. You were there when I needed someone to talk to. You were there when I needed someone to listen to my problems. You were there when I needed someone to lean on for support. You were there when I needed a shoulder to cry on. You were there to tell that everything was going to be all right. You were there to give me a hug when I needed one. You were there to give me helpful advice when it was needed. You were there when I felt like I was alone and didn't have anyone else to turn to. You were there as a friend, and I will always remember you for that. . Submitted by Kimberly E. Harmon E-mail: lil_kimy_2003@hotmail.com From:Tennessee Date/Time of Posting: Mar 26 2003 / 04:40:09

Thirty-Five Cent Stamp Standing outside an old phone booth Thirty-five cents in my hand; enough For a call to you, but not enough For the time to say the words I wish you could hear. Words That thirty-five cents can't afford. Words That over time and at this time are enough To stall me from stepping in the booth And picking up the receiver. Has time enough Passed to call you and say the words I yearn for you to hear? The booth Taunts me, and I look down at the thirty-five cents, enough to dial the ten numbers and say the words "Hello", "How are you?", and "Goodbye". But is it enough, I wonder, to empty the burden from my shoulders. These words That echo inside my head, my heart. The words Seem to jump from me and into the walls of the booth. I reach into my pocket for more change, two cents, enough To buy a stamp, thirty-seven cents! A letter! The words Can surely be afforded for thirty-seven cents! But the booth, Its age and wisdom, asks if it is enough... Thirty-five cents gives voice, two more enough To buy confidence, yet discard the voice in those words. I hear a voice from inside the booth. I step inside, and hear my voice, my words Entering the receiver, you receiving my words. Thirty-five cents is enough For you to say you'll come for coffee, enough To stall the time before I say my words. I step, shaking, silently, out of the booth, Thinking thirty-five cents was enough. Submitted by Danielle Cochrane from Massachusetts E-mail:Danielle_Cochrane@student.uml.edu Date/Time of Posting: Oct 22 2002 / 22:25:16

peacefully lazing around, deepest feelings profound, no tenderness disquised, no desires despised, united in spirit, no outsiders hear it, purity lost, a moment worthy of such a great cost, a sacrifice, chills that pierce like pins of ice, will my heart even dare, to let my mind fall into this decieving lare, he waits, what seems to be so far in the distance, to force a break through my threads of innocence, am i willing to stay, would i even be able to turn away, should i put up a fight, or will it turn out alright, should i let myself melt into those dominent hands, i'm not so sure he understands, not at all like he says he does, is he really the one there never was, i cant put aside this painful quiver, my heart throbs no softer than a rapid river, and yet, his seems as a running stream, behind my eyes is burning steam.n Submitted by Shannon from Georgia E-mail:sheabirds@alltel.net Date/Time of Posting: Feb 14 2003 / 10:31:42

Will They... Will they carry to adulthood, along with the bad, the good? Will a difference be made, if positivies come their way? I don't dream of achieving the noble prize, will children remember they were important in my eyes? That even with hideously bad, it was their actions that made me sad? that it wasn't them, who disappointed me. That I enjoyed watching their plays, and listened to what they had to say? Will they recall rides, movies, and the beach, their phone calls that put me within their reach. Or that when they needed me, I was there, or will it be forgotton with their adult cares? Will they forget the precious parts, I hold forever in my heart? Will it impact a piece of their children's lives, and not shove them bitterly aside? Will my presence only miserably fail? My love for them be to no avail? I try to provide balanced days a safe place to reclaim their way. Will it have made a dent, when their seperate ways they have went? I seek not importance as forward they go, but will they remember they were loved as they grow? Submitted by Winterstorm E-mail: winterstorml@earthlink.net Date/Time of Posting: 5 Nov 2002 / 10:25:57

Fortune Teller When I was a small girl, I dreamt of seeing the future I was optimistic. I was prolific in pretexts. I was prepared to reveal to the world all that it wanted to hear + (Though I could never manufacture my promises), Everyone would listen with wide eyes & believe. Because, everyone knows, once you’ve led the parched to water You needn’t force them to drink, And I don’t really need prescience at all To convince you. Submitted by Tigermilk E-mail: melinda0032@mail.com Date/Time of Posting: Feb 21 2003 / 00:26:39

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