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A right delayed is a right denied.

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Assisted Suicide

Why is death with dignity seldom mentioned in our land?
Is the mere mention of assisted suicide illegal and banned?
In Oregon, Washington and Switzerland; it’s already there,
So Canadian media or politicians should not scare.

Why is this one human right denied with all government might?
Though they have abortion clinics killing babies day and night,
And a federal or provincial election almost every year,
The subject of death with dignity is avoided with great fear.

It seems as though our politicians never think that they will die,
Is this stupidity or policy where they demand we comply,
And like binding referendums, it will never be discussed,
As they look at us, mere mortals, as though with complete disgust.

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Justice Delayed, Justice Denied

JUSTICE DELAYED, JUSTICE DENIED
Melvin Banggollay


Everyone has the basic right
To get justice with all its might
Which due process should fight
for real justice to shade its light.

But today as politics come to play
or richness and power interplay
With judicial systems foreplay
Justice delayed in so many way.

Justice delayed, justice denied
An unjust lawyer motto and pride
Only to show their wit as they ride
in the hall of justice with all stride.
but never for lawyers who abide
by truth their conscience can't hide.

Let's not circumvent truth with lies
Or trickery with our masterful ability
To set a culprit free from agony
in our greed for honey and money
at the expense of our honor and dignity
before God and the eyes of humanity.

Let the truth always set us free
Let it previal even its hurts any
For this is the real face of reality
that must take its light to carry
Justice to safeguard humanity.

Let us not circumvent in any way
The law just to protect one's impurity
Seal the truth to hide one's criminality
And do everything for one's posterity
even if that man is the real culprit
Even that man did all the merit
of the crime he can never discredit
yet with a lawyers treachery and wit
that man can be freed by his credit.

In so many cases when the victim is poor
Justice takes a duckling walk in the floor
But if the victim belongs to the wealthy
Justice takes a leap across reality
For sometimes money, wealth and power
Push the cart of justice with all its grandeur.

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Something Aint Right

(torney / spencer / snow)
Something
Something aint right
Something
Something aint right
Feeling kind of low inside
Longing to be by your side
See you there before my eyes
This love I feel has no disguise
But whats in a love when you feel so denied
I cant count all the times Ive tried
Something aint right
But Im never gonna let that something
Make me stop without a fight
No something aint right
And its been on my mind
Just a little too much
And bringing me down
Something
Something aint right
Something
Something aint right
Sittin in the dimmest of light
In my room with a view of the night
In the time it took for you to call
You left me holding onto nothing at all
Ill accept what I can
But I cant understand
Why you want it to end this way
Chorus
Verse 1
Chorus
Verse 1 x2
Chorus
Verse 1 x4

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Right To Know

The tiny child that lives inside
Deserves the right to know
That life would never be denied
While it had time to grow.
For life is sacred, sanctified,
God's precious one-time gift,
For which He must be glorified
When we our praises lift.

The tiny child that God prepared
Perhaps had much to do,
Perhaps with many blessings shared
With folks like me and you.
Perhaps an artist to be spared,
A doctor or a nurse,
Yet only if the people cared
To bless and not to curse.

The tiny child deserves no tears,
No blood shed as a whim,
No cutting short of future years,
Its destiny to dim
God spared my life to write my fears,
To voice my deep concerns.
God gave me hands and feet and ears.
Such gifts no wise man spurns.

The tiny child can't see the face
Of she who bears its form,
Nor can it know another place
To store it safe and warm
If it could speak, its thoughts to trace,
What wise words could it say?
'I am unique, I grow by grace
Don't throw my life away '

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Born At The Right Time

Down among the reeds and rushes
A baby boy was found
His eyes as clear as centuries
His silky hair was brown
Never been lonely
Never been lied to
Never had to scuffle in fear
Nothing denied to
Born at the instant
The church bells chime
And the whole world whispering
Born at the right time
Me and my buddies we are travelling people
We like to go down to restaurant row
Spend those euro-dollars
All the way from washington to tokyo
I see them in the airport lounge
Upon their mothers breast
They follow me with open eyes
Their uninvited guest
Never been lonely
Never been lied to
Never had to scuffle in fear
Nothing denied to
Born at the instant
The church bells chime
And the whole world whispering
Born at the right time
Too many people on the bus from the airport
Too many holes in the crust of the earth
The planet groans
Every time it registers another birth
But among the reeds and rushes
A baby girl was found
Her eyes as clear as centuries
Her silky hair was brown
Never been lonely
Never been lied to
Never had to scuffle in fear
Nothing denied to
Born at the instant
The church bells chime
And the whole world whispering
Born at the right time

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If You Couldn't Get It Right The First Time

Some say redemption is easy.
But when your hands are so bloody.
How can you just wash them clean?
Like it never happen.
Completely innocent you say.
Then where was your vigilance while it was happening?
Ignorance is a excuse without reason.
We should never accept it with a hand shake and a smile.
Bliss is only temporary.
Consequences must be faced.
Pain you must taste, before it can be truly felt.
Some say we only have to live with the hands we are dealt.
But we trade these cards for better ones all the time.
For some it requires hard work.
Others they bully people for them.
And yet even more stoop to thievery and manipulation.
A prize sits upon the highest roof top.
All you have to do is push this other guy off to get it.
Can you do it?
All for something a little easier.
Convenience sits at mans door step.
He will lie for it.
He will fight for it.
He will kill for it.
And finally he will die for it.
Effort requires energy the lazy people of the time don't have.
They envelope their minds false and half truths to only feel a little better.
Build up the broken self esteem so it can be broken again.
A repetition in tiresome lessons.
Some will just never get it.
You don't do something because you have to.
You do it because you want to.
Getting up early in the morning.
Shoving a cup of coffee into your face.
Going to work, to come back to your own home.
Seeing some one stuck in the snow, will you help them?
Or pretend you didn't see them so you don't get delayed.
Time matters to some too much when comes too money to be made.
How about if you see some women being brutally attacked.
Will risk your life to save her?
And what reasons sit behind it?
Are you so fearful you say screw her and just let her die?
Are you so desperate you'll use it as a attempt to get laid.
'Hey now that your alright lets go back to my place.'
Is that your pickup line?
Or you actually a caring person when one is need?
Pleading for just a tid bit of help.
Selfishness is not only described by things you do for yourself.
But as things you do for others that also benefits you.
You have made many trades and left most of your guilt behind.
Even with the world so you think.
All the scores have been settled in one fell swoop.
No going back in for seconds.
If you couldn't get right the first time.
Then your just wasting my time.

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To The Right Hon. Mr. Dodington

Long, Dodington, in debt, I long have sought
To ease the burden of my graceful thought:
And now a poet's gratitude you see:
Grant him two favours, and he'll ask for three:
For whose the present glory, or the gain?
You give protection, I a worthless strain.
You love and feel the poet's sacred flame,
And know the basis of a solid fame;
Though prone to like, yet cautious to commend,
You read with all the malice of a friend;
Nor favour my attempts that way alone,
But, more to raise my verse, conceal your own.
An ill-tim'd modesty! turn ages o'er,
When wanted Britain bright examples more?
Her learning, and her genius too, decays;
And dark and cold are her declining days;
As if men now were of another cast,
They meanly live on alms of ages past,
Men still are men; and they who boldly dare,
Shall triumph o'er the sons of cold despair;
Or, if they fail, they justly still take place
Of such who run in debt for their disgrace;
Who borrow much, then fairly make it known,
And damn it with improvements of their own.
We bring some new materials, and what's old
New cast with care, and in no borrow'd mould;
Late times the verse may read, if these refuse;
And from sour critics vindicate the Muse.
'Your work is long', the critics cry. 'Tis true,
And lengthens still, to take in fools like you:
Shorten my labour, if its length you blame:
For, grow but wise, you rob me of my game;
As haunted hags, who, while the dogs pursue,
Renounce their four legs, and start up on two.

Like the bold bird upon the banks of Nile
That picks the teeth of the dire crocodile,
Will I enjoy (dread feast!) the critic's rage,
And with the fell destroyer feed my page.
For what ambitious fools are more to blame,
Than those who thunder in the critic's name?
Good authors damn'd, have their revenge in this,
To see what wretches gain the praise they miss.

Balbutius, muffled in his sable cloak,
Like an old Druid from his hollow oak,
As ravens solemn, and as boding, cries,
'Ten thousand worlds for the three unities!'
Ye doctors sage, who through Parnassus teach,
Or quit the tub, or practise what you preach.

One judges as the weather dictates; right
The poem is at noon, and wrong at night:
Another judges by a surer gage,
An author's principles, or parentage;
Since his great ancestors in Flanders fell,
The poem doubtless must be written well.
Another judges by the writer's look;
Another judges, for he bought the book:
Some judge, their knack of judging wrong to keep;
Some judge, because it is too soon to sleep.
Thus all will judge, and with one single aim,
To gain themselves, not give the writer, fame.
The very best ambitiously advise,
Half to serve you, and half to pass for wise.

Critics on verse, as squibs on triumphs wait,
Proclaim the glory, and augment the state;
Hot, envious, noisy, proud, the scribbling fry
Burn, hiss, and bounce, waste paper, stink, and die.
Rail on, my friends! what more my verse can crown
Than Compton's smile, and your obliging frown?

Not all on books their criticism waste:
The genius of a dish some justly taste,
And eat their way to fame; with anxious thought
The salmon is refus'd, the turbot bought.
Impatient art rebukes the sun's delay
And bids December yield the fruits of May;
Their various cares in one great point combine
The business of their lives, that is--to dine.
Half of their precious day they give the feast;
And to a kind digestion spare the rest.
Apicius, here, the taster of the town,
Feeds twice a week, to settle their renown.

These worthies of the palate guard with care
The sacred annals of their bills of fare;
In those choice books their panegyrics read,
And scorn the creatures that for hunger feed.
If man by feeding well commences great,
Much more the worm to whom that man is meat.

To glory some advance a lying claim,
Thieves of renown, and pilferers of fame:
Their front supplies what their ambition lacks;
They know a thousand lords, behind their backs.
Cottil is apt to wink upon a peer,
When turn'd away, with a familiar leer;
And Harvey's eyes, unmercifully keen,
Have murdered fops, by whom she ne'er was seen.
Niger adopts stray libels; wisely prone,
To cover shame still greater than his own.
Bathyllus, in the winter of threescore,
Belies his innocence, and keeps a ----.
Absence of mind Brabantio turns to fame,
Learns to mistake, nor knows his brother's name;
Has words and thoughts in nice disorder set,
And takes a memorandum to forget.
Thus vain, not knowing what adorns or blots
Men forge the patents that create them sots.

As love of pleasure into pain betrays,
So most grow infamous through love of praise.
But whence for praise can such an ardour rise,
When those, who bring that incense, we despise?
For such the vanity of great and small,
Contempt goes round, and all men laugh at all.
Nor can even satire blame them; for 'tis true,
They have most ample cause for what they do
O fruitful Britain! doubtless thou wast meant
A nurse of fools, to stock the continent.
Though Phoebus and the Nine for ever mow,
Rank folly underneath the scythe will grow
The plenteous harvest calls me forward still,
Till I surpass in length my lawyer's bill;
A Welsh descent, which well-paid heralds damn;
Or, longer still, a Dutchman's epigram.
When, cloy'd, in fury I throw down my pen,
In comes a coxcomb, and I write again.

See Tityrus, with merriment possest,
Is burst with laughter, ere he hears the jest:
What need he stay? for when the jest is o'er,
His teeth will be no whiter than before.
Is there of thee, ye fair! so great a dearth,
That you need purchase monkeys for your mirth!

Some, vain of paintings, bid the world admire;
Of houses some; nay, houses that they hire:
Some (perfect wisdom!) of a beauteous wife;
And boast, like Cordeliers, a scourge for life.

Sometimes, through pride, the sexes change their airs;
My lord has vapours, and my lady swears;
Then, stranger still! on turning of the wind,
My lord wears breeches, and my lady's kind.

To show the strength, and infamy of pride,
By all 'tis follow'd, and by all denied.
What numbers are there, which at once pursue,
Praise, and the glory to contemn it, too?
Vincenna knows self-praise betrays to shame,
And therefore lays a stratagem for fame;
Makes his approach in modesty's disguise,
To win applause; and takes it by surprise.
'To err,' says he, 'in small things, is my fate.'
You know your answer, 'he's exact in great'.
'My style', says he, 'is rude and full of faults.'
'But oh! what sense! what energy of thoughts!'
That he wants algebra, he must confess;
'But not a soul to give our arms success'.
'Ah! that's an hit indeed,' Vincenna cries;
'But who in heat of blood was ever wise?
I own 'twas wrong, when thousands called me back
To make that hopeless, ill-advised attack;
All say, 'twas madness; nor dare I deny;
Sure never fool so well deserved to die.'
Could this deceive in others to be free,
It ne'er, Vincenna, could deceive in thee!
Whose conduct is a comment to thy tongue,
So clear, the dullest cannot take thee wrong.
Thou on one sleeve wilt thy revenues wear;
And haunt the court, without a prospect there.
Are these expedients for renown? Confess
Thy little self, that I may scorn thee less.

Be wise, Vincenna, and the court forsake;
Our fortunes there, nor thou, nor I, shall make.
Even men of merit, ere their point they gain,
In hardy service make a long campaign;
Most manfully besiege the patron's gate,
And oft repulsed, as oft attack the great
With painful art, and application warm.
And take, at last, some little place by storm;
Enough to keep two shoes on Sunday clean,
And starve upon discreetly, in Sheer-Lane.
Already this thy fortune can afford;
Then starve without the favour of my lord.
'Tis true, great fortunes some great men confer,
But often, even in doing right, they err:
From caprice, not from choice, their favours come:
They give, but think it toil to know to whom:
The man that's nearest, yawning, they advance:
'Tis inhumanity to bless by chance.
If merit sues, and greatness is so loth
To break its downy trance, I pity both.

Behold the masquerade's fantastic scene!
The Legislature join'd with Drury-Lane!
When Britain calls, th' embroider'd patriots run,
And serve their country--if the dance is done.
'Are we not then allow'd to be polite?'
Yes, doubtless; but first set your notions right.
Worth, of politeness is the needful ground;
Where that is wanting, this can ne'er be found.
Triflers not even in trifles can excel;
'Tis solid bodies only polish well.

Great, chosen prophet! for these latter days,
To turn a willing world from righteous ways!
Well, Heydegger, dost thou thy master serve;
Well has he seen his servant should not starve,
Thou to his name hast splendid temples raised
In various forms of worship seen him prais'd,
Gaudy devotion, like a Roman, shown,
And sung sweet anthems in a tongue unknown.
Inferior offerings to thy god of vice
Are duly paid, in fiddles, cards, and dice;
Thy sacrifice supreme, an hundred maids!
That solemn rite of midnight masquerades!

Though bold these truths, thou, Muse, with truths like these,
Wilt none offend, whom 'tis a praise to please;
Let others flatter to be flatter'd, thou
Like just tribunals, bend an awful brow.
How terrible it were to common-sense,
To write a satire, which gave none offence!
And, since from life I take the draughts you see.
If men dislike them, do they censure me?
The fool, and knave, 'tis glorious to offend,
And Godlike an attempt the world to mend,
The world, where lucky throws to blockheads fall,
Knaves know the game, and honest men pay all.
How hard for real worth to gain its price!
A man shall make his fortune in a trice,
If blest with pliant, though but slender, sense,
Feign'd modesty, and real impudence:
A supple knee, smooth tongue, an easy grace.
A curse within, a smile upon his face;
A beauteous sister, or convenient wife,
Are prizes in the lottery of life;
Genius and Virtue they will soon defeat,
And lodge you in the bosom of the great.
To merit, is but to provide a pain
For men's refusing what you ought to gain.

May, Dodington, this maxim fail in you,
Whom my presaging thoughts already view
By Walpole's conduct fired, and friendship grac'd,
Still higher in your Prince's favour plac'd:
And lending, here, those awful councils aid,
Which you, abroad, with such success obey'd!
Bear this from one, who holds your friendship dear;
What most we wish, with ease we fancy near.

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So Right

It is so right
To give
Thanks
To God

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Left or Right

War does not determine who's right
War determines who's left

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Right to life

I deserve
Right to life
Right to liberty
And wellbeing.

See
Your society
does not allow
for a decent life.

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Nobody has right to detained anybody

Nobody has a right to detained anybody
Detention without any reason is illegal
And not conducive to society.

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Sex is a birth right.

Having sex is a birth right.
Sexual pleasure is nectar.
Orgasm comes as ambrosia.
Denial of sex is cruel.
28.02.2012

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Right

I have
Every
Right
Over
You.

For,
If I
Lose my
Right -
Over you,

I don't
Have the
Right -
To live,
Without
You.

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The Right Of The Grass

Everyman has a right to live.
I uprooted the grass growing
Along with the paddy I grew.
Hasn't the grass right to live?

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All Right

all
right
all
together
all ways

in time they felt the need to fuse

today
they are one
alright, altogether, always.....

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This night is jsut right

This night is just right
This night seems like it was meant for us
This night is something special
This night is just right

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The Right Place

If I can bring a smile to your face,

I am in the right place,

I'm thankful for this space,

To share and learn and gaze.

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This night is just right

This night is just right
This night is nice
This night is perfect
This night was meant for you and me
This night is just right.

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Take It Not Your Right

Thinking it a right that you get
Takes away the sense of gratitude.
The provider must be gladdened.
The process must be continued.

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Right there each time right there within us

If you despair that God is missing
When God is needed know God is
Right there each time right there within us
For it is through us God lives

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