Pulling the Trigger

I took a penny from a beggar

I took a ruler from a king

I broke all of my promises

But that don’t mean a thing

I took a note from a choir

I took a book from a page

I gave up all my dignity

For this legacy of rage

I took a punch from a drunk

I took a card from a shark

I hid among the shadows

And even danced in the dark

I took a lesson from a teacher

I took a habit from a nun

I placed a bullet in the chamber

And pulled the trigger on the gun

Picking Up the Pieces

If I was the darkness

and you were the light.

Would you let your arms

hold me close tonight?

If I was the night

and you were the day.

Would you offer a smile

to help light my way?

If you were the sun

and I was the snow.

Would you melt my heart

with your warm tender glow?

If you were a rose

and I was a thorn.

Would you cherish my name

Or treat me with scorn?

If we were a puzzle

and life just a game.

                                

Would you pick up the pieces

and start all over again?

Every Woman Has a Name

Every woman has a name,

calling softly in the breeze,

riding on a windswept memory,

blowing gently through the trees.

Every woman sheds a tear,

when she’s alone at night,

holding on to all her memories,

when her dreams seem out of sight.

Every woman has a secret,

that is held so deep within,

a bitter truth or recollection,

of some deep forgotten sin.

Every woman has a heart,

that at times begins to ache,

reaching out on a tree of emotion,

Whose bough must surely break

Every woman has a dream,

an ambition for tomorrow,

that will open up new horizons,

and banish away her sorrow.

Every woman has a chance

to watch her family grow,

to reap life’s rich rewards,

of the harvest she did sow.

Every woman has a future,

it is of her own design,

if she follows her own instincts,

then things will turn out fine.

Every woman has a name,

calling softly in the breeze,

riding on a windswept memory,

blowing gently through the trees.

Trenches

Sitting in the trenches listening to the gun.

Waiting in the darkness.

This was never going to be much fun.

It wasn’t what I wanted sitting in this place.

Knee deep in water.

Fighting an enemy that doesn’t have a face.

I am only just a boy scared beyond belief.

Fighting for my country.

Stepping on the bodies, no time to feel my grief.

Soaking wet I close my eyes, and say a prayer.

Thinking of better days.

And hoping there is someone left to care.

Standing on the frontline deafened by the roar.

Praying for forgiveness.

Hiding in the shadows crouched upon the floor.

Searching for a reason to kill my fellow man.

Fixing on my bayonet.

I hope one day you all will understand.

I didn’t want to come, but i didn’t have a voice.

I am waiting for a bullet, that’s come to make my choice.