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When a man has done his best, has given his all, and in the process supplied the needs of his family and his society, that man has made a habit of succeeding.

quote by Mack R. Douglas
Added by Lucian Velea
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Consumed Within the Process

Consumed within the process
That process we call life.
Immuned? Not from this process.
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

Consumed within the process.
That process we call life.
Immuned?
Not from this process!

It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Closing its eyes only when it wishes,
To call itself out!

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Social Netowrking Of Robots

end of world war
end of world war 11
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end of ww2 for japanese americans
end of ww-ii
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end of wrold war 2
end of ww11

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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Sensitive Selfless Scribe's Shorthand Script Successfully Shows Superb Syllabic Stanza Susurration

Kindly refer to Notes
-------
SENSITIVE SELFLESS SCRIBE'S SHORTHAND SCRIPT SUCCESSFULLY SHOWS SUPERB SYLLABIC STANZA SUSURRATION
Stanza stanza swift succeeding
seldom static, subtly speeding
serried series, saccharinic,
sentences scarce schizophrenic.

Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
salvos sparkle, sagenitic,
succulent succession seeding
stanza stanza swift succeeding.

Stanza stanza swift succeeding
serenade sauteed spoonfeeding
special scansion ‘S’ syllabic,
sentences scarce schizophrenic.

Sentences scarce schizophrenic
solo solves sound stream, strabismic
seeker sees successful screeding
stanza stanza swift succeeding.

Stanza stanza swift succeeding.
syntax sense spurns stale subbreeding
shedding sorrow syphilitic,
sentences scarce schizophrenic.

Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
salvoes sparkle sagenitic,
selfless scribe’s script seldom skeeding,
stanza stanza swift succeeding.

Stanza stanza swift succeeding
scatter satire chickenfeeding
subharmonic synchronistic
sentences scarce schizophrenic.

Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
sagely swirl substantives scenic
steadfastly serene crossbreeding
stanza stanza swift succeeding.

Stanza stanza swift succeeding,
sinless scintillating reading,
sotto voce suave systemic
sentences scarce schizophrenic.

Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
supercalifragilistic,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Everybody Needs A 303

Check this out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
Check this out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
Everybody needs love
Everybody needs love
Check this out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
Everybody needs love
Everybody needs love
Check this out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
This out
Everybody needs love
Everybody needs love
Everybody needs love
Everybody needs love
Needs love
Needs love

[...] Read more

song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Give The Po Man A Break

Give po man a break
Give po man a break
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a

[...] Read more

song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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The World Needs Peace And Love

The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Muslims and Christians are all alike.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
We don't need another airstrike.

The world needs peace, the world needs love.
People of all colors must be one.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
All sorts of violence must be gone.

The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Stop killing our brothers and sisters!
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Stop all these bullshit wars!

The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Stop terrorism, please.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Let our children live to the fullest.

The world needs peace, the world needs love.
We must stand together for better world.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
We are the children of God.

The world needs peace and love...

poem by Alon Calinao Dy
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Low Society

A judge a dentist or physician
In this low society
Trade ambition for position
In this low society
Have you heard its in the stars
Next july we collide with mars
Have you heard it in the bars
In this low society
No more pay and lots of leisure
In this low society
Low society
Im just doing what I can
In this low society
But Im an incidental man
In this low society
I give away what others sell
The secrets yours so never tell
cos if you do youll go to hell
Low society
Side by side and always tired
All for one and no-one hired
All thats left is love inspired
Low society
And when the party is complete
And youre still standing on your feet
The taste of victory is sweet
Low society
And darling dont forget
In this low society
To turn off your t.v. set
In this low society
The most important thing at all
In this low society
Is not to stand too tall
In this low society
In this world that never learns
I can see rome as it burns
All the passion and the power
Turns to ash within an hour
No more play and no more pleasure
In this low society

song performed by Heaven 17
Added by Lucian Velea
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IV. Tertium Quid

True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Spasmolytic

Kicking the (kickin')...habit (2x)
K... K.. Kicking the...habit (3x)
Making time in a low rent high-rise
Downtown!
Downtown... (11x)
Kicking the...habit (4x)
Kicking the (kickin')...habit (4x)
Downtown (8x)
Swirling tastes phornicate rotted meat (2x)
Rotted meat... (8x)
She sits alone in the worry she's created (2x)
In the worry she's created...
Kicking the...habit (4x)
K...K..Kicking the...habit (2x)
Kicking the...habit (8x)
Kickin the habit (2x)
Kicking the (kickin')...habit
Kickin the habit (2x)
No!

song performed by Deftones
Added by Lucian Velea
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For Them It's Automatic

People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
People lie out of habit,
Like a sport...
To play!

It is in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
And there are those people lieing to defy with denying.
People lie and they like it...
Everyday.
People lie out of habit,
And it's here to stay!

It's in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
And there are those people lieing defying to deny,
They are lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.

People lie and they like it...
Everyday.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.

It's in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and think,
They're in disguise.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.

People lie and think,
They're in disguise.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Annus Mirabilis, The Year Of Wonders, 1666

1
In thriving arts long time had Holland grown,
Crouching at home and cruel when abroad:
Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own;
Our King they courted, and our merchants awed.

2
Trade, which, like blood, should circularly flow,
Stopp'd in their channels, found its freedom lost:
Thither the wealth of all the world did go,
And seem'd but shipwreck'd on so base a coast.

3
For them alone the heavens had kindly heat;
In eastern quarries ripening precious dew:
For them the Idumaean balm did sweat,
And in hot Ceylon spicy forests grew.

4
The sun but seem'd the labourer of the year;
Each waxing moon supplied her watery store,
To swell those tides, which from the line did bear
Their brimful vessels to the Belgian shore.

5
Thus mighty in her ships, stood Carthage long,
And swept the riches of the world from far;
Yet stoop'd to Rome, less wealthy, but more strong:
And this may prove our second Punic war.

6
What peace can be, where both to one pretend?
(But they more diligent, and we more strong)
Or if a peace, it soon must have an end;
For they would grow too powerful, were it long.

7
Behold two nations, then, engaged so far
That each seven years the fit must shake each land:
Where France will side to weaken us by war,
Who only can his vast designs withstand.

8
See how he feeds the Iberian with delays,
To render us his timely friendship vain:
And while his secret soul on Flanders preys,
He rocks the cradle of the babe of Spain.

9
Such deep designs of empire does he lay

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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I'm Guided By...Life!

My needs are overheating and exceeds excessive feeding.
Yes my needs are overheating and exceeds excessive feeding.

Tonight,
I'm guided by...
Life!
I'm driven by...
Desire!
And finding it right,
Tonight.

Surrender,
I might...
To your delight.
And excited I am...
With you,
Tonight!
And...
Forever.

My needs are overheating and exceeds excessive feeding.
Yes my needs are overheating and exceeds excessive feeding.

Tonight,
I'm guided by...
Life!
I'm driven by...
Desire!
And finding it right,
Tonight...

My needs are overheating and exceeds excessive feeding.
Yes my needs are overheating and exceeds excessive feeding.
Yes my needs are overheating.
Yes my needs are overheating...
Tonight.
My needs are heating.
Yes my needs are overheating.
Tonight.
My needs are heating.
Yes my needs are overheating.
Tonight,
I'm guded by...
Life!
Tonight,
I'm driven by...
Desire!

Yes my needs are overheating.
Yes my needs are overheating.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Why Can't Family Be Family Again

why can't family be family again
we used to always be friends
we used to huddle together
whenever we got scared
we felt the warmth in one anothers arms
because we knew the love was there

we used to build forts out of whatever we had in our rooms
and wage sars
throwing pillows, books, and brooms

we used to have mini mosh pits
with just the four of us
we headbanged and pushed
we screamed and pretended to cuss

we used to protect eachother
we used to defend one another
we used to stand together like brothers and sister
when mom punished us we would all resist her

we used to be a family
a family that would always care
we used to be a family with more happiness than despair
we used to be a family that never hogged food or air
we used to be a family that told eachother we were there

we used to be a family
a family that sat down toghether and ate
we used to be a family full of our own ideas that we create
we used to be a family that got along without debate
we used to be a family with more love than hate

so why can't family be family again
and remember why those times were so good
why can't family be family again
and treat eachother the way we should

why can't family be family again
and throw the hate away
why can't family be family again
and invite the love to stay

poem by Marco Jimenez
Added by Poetry Lover
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Why Can't We Be A Family

why can't family be family again
we used to always be friends
we used to huddle together
whenever we got scared
we felt the warmth in one anothers arms
because we knew the love was there

we used to build forts out of whatever we had in our rooms
and wage sars
throwing pillows, books, and brooms

we used to have mini mosh pits
with just the four of us
we headbanged and pushed
we screamed and pretended to cuss

we used to protect eachother
we used to defend one another
we used to stand together like brothers and sister
when mom punished us we would all resist her

we used to be a family
a family that would always care
we used to be a family with more happiness than despair
we used to be a family that never hogged food or air
we used to be a family that told eachother we were there

we used to be a family
a family that sat down toghether and ate
we used to be a family full of our own ideas that we create
we used to be a family that got along without debate
we used to be a family with more love than hate

so why can't family be family again
and remember why those times were so good
why can't family be family again
and treat eachother the way we should

why can't family be family again
and throw the hate away
why can't family be family again
and invite the love to stay

poem by Ricky Baker
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!