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Nickels And Dimes And Love

Remember when pocket change was all we had
And all those calls from the corner phonebooth
Collect to Mom and Dad
And that old worn out couch we called our bed
When our cuisine was pork and beans
Baloney and day old bread
Remember that damn old car that kept breaking down
And all the times it left me stranded
Thumbing all over town
And that old weekly paycheck
Just never stretched enough
Back in the times of nickels and dimes and love
Together we sure made some dreams come true
Sometimes it wasn't easy
But somehow we made it through
And when I get to thinking times are tough
I remember the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Oh those good old times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Remember digging through your old purses in hopes we'd get
Enough change for an RC cola or a pack of cigarettes
Now we've got almost everything
That we were dreaming of
Back in the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Together we sure made some dreams come true
Sometimes it wasn't easy
But somehow we made it through
And when I get to thinking times are tough
I remember the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Oh those good old times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Do you remember those times
Of nickels and dimes and love

song performed by John Michael Montgomery
Added by Lucian Velea
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Twin State

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Shadow Hawk episode 3

[Angela’s House] Tuesday Nov 25 9: 23 am
[Angela and her mom are conversating in living room with Sam lying on couch unconscience]
Angela: He’s been out for about four days now
Mom: Who is he?
Angela: I think his name is Sam
Mom: (Places hands on hips) You think! ?
Angela: Mom I found him in the street, he was hurt.
Mom: (outraged) In the street! Angela you don’t know this boy.
Angela: I had to bring him here he was badly wounded. Plus I’m a CN.
Mom: Angela you know your father would be upset. He’s been gone to a business trip in Tokyo for two weeks and He’ll want to sit on his new leather couch.
Angela: I returned the favor.
Mom: What favor? Did you have se……..
Angela: No, he saved my life!
Mom: What?
Angela: (begins to cry) Three men chased me down the street into an alley they were going to mug me or worse. He came to my aide, and even gave me dinner.
Mom: (Embraces Angela and starts crying) I’m glad your alright.
Angela: He saved me mom.
Mom: Well I couldn’t have chosen a better boy to stay in my house. (smiles warmly)
Angela: Thanks for understanding.
Mom: He looks so cute when he’s sleeping.
Angela: I know mom, he looks like a little teddy bear. (they both giggle)
(door bell rings)
Mom: That’s your dad, let me do the talking.
(Opens door)
Dad: Hey honey I’m home.
Mom: I’ve missed you so much. (they kiss)
Dad: So how’s my little angel doing?
Angela: Fine dad. (smiles)
Dad: Well I guess I’ll go watch tv on my new leather couch.
Mom: You know it’s been two weeks Roger mabey we should go up stairs and “talk”.
Dad: Not right now Sarah, I’m tired. (advances towards living room)
Mom: Roger let me give you a back message up stairs.
Dad: No, Sarah.
Angela: You look tired dad why don’t you take a nap.
Dad: I will once I watch a little……. Who the heck is that on my $2,000 couch! ! !
Mom: Calm down Roger.
Dad: There’s blood on my new couch! ! ! !
Angela: Let me explain.
Dad: Yes Angela explain to me why there is some random boy in my house lying on my couch which is blood stained at that!
Mom: The boy was hurt Roger she had to bring him her.
Dad: And you knew about it Sarah?
Mom: Yes.
Dad: I thought we discussed this already!
Angela: He’s hurt dad.
Dad: Hurt! You want hurt I’ll give you hurt! (grabs baseball bat)
Mom: Don’t Roger put it d…….
Dad: Stay out of this Sarah! (goes to hit Sam)
Angela: (Throws herself on Sam) If you hit him you have to hit me too!
Dad: Move Angela.
Angela: No.

[...] Read more

poem by Jesse Overton
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

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poem by Talile Ali
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Nickels & Dimes & Love

(johnny macrae/steve clark)
Remember when pocket change was all we had
And all those calls from the corner phonebooth
Collect to mom and dad
And that old worn out couch we called our bed
When our cuisine was pork and beans
Baloney and day old bread
Remember that damn old car that kept breaking down
And all the times it left me stranded
Thumbing all over town
And that old weekly paycheck
Just never stretched enough
Back in the times of nickels and dimes and love
Together we sure made some dreams come true
Sometimes it wasnt easy
But somehow we made it through
And when I get to thinking times are tough
I remember the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Oh those good old times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Remember digging through your old purses in hopes wed get
Enough change for an rc cola or a pack of cigarettes
Now weve got almost everything
That we were dreaming of
Back in the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Together we sure made some dreams come true
Sometimes it wasnt easy
But somehow we made it through
And when I get to thinking times are tough
I remember the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Oh those good old times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Do you remember those times
Of nickels and dimes and love

song performed by John Michael Montgomery
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cursed (story)

I am Bill.I live with my brother, my dad, mom and my lil sis.There's always this thing that bothers my mind..it's because i believe that my mom and sis already died.It was almost a yearago yet not that old to be forgotten.our house was burnt for unknown reason.They we're found dead on the room i was staying.Burned, yet there's still mystery upon their death.

I can barely remember that i see mere smoke and huge fire.i was just 7 yet my mind works as if i was not.After the tragic happenings the ocean made noise and i saw a huge wave comming towards our direction.Crowds of neigbors, the police, the rescuers and even i, my lil bro and dad run away.

our house was swallowed by that huge wave.After that i don't know what else happened.I hear my dad yell and my lil bro crying.I see blurry lights and hear the sirens.I was asleep! am i? i see the lights striking in my eyelids yet i can not see any image.i hear the sound of waves smashing unto rocks then i'm

shocked to reality i'm just sitting on the deck before the emergency room in the city hospital.I was wonderin' what i'm doin' there but 'twas just a couple'o seconds when i saw my lil bro and dad walked out the emergency room, smiling and waved on me.My dad shouted com'mon bill let's go home.okey, well my dad's calling me.Gotta go!

i really don't know what happened but as we go back to where our house was build it was still there standing steady and strong.I looked around i saw our neighbor's house burnt.and i said' oh, bla bla i really don't know what's happening! ' and asked dad 'dad i thought it was our house burned? '

and as i always hear from him dad answered in a huge voice 'what? are you out of your mind? '

then i heared a soft voice saying 'John, let him rest.Maybe he's hallucinating.he's from kelly's house beside the shore.we all knew it's almost impossible for him to survive that huge fire.'

my pores closed, my spines shivered..and my heart pumped fast...

i shouted' who's that'? ... MOM?

and the voice answered 'yes dear.'

my dad then said' LEt's took him to the doctor, maybe the accident affected his mind too.'

'but DAD! ! , Mom and tricia died already! '

he answered: 'That's not funny bill! if yu're thinking this is the right time to crack pranks.well ITS NOT! ! ..Go to your room! ! '

'but DAD? '!

'NO buts, go to your room.NOW! '

okey, it seems like i really am hallucinating..maybe i came over kelly's house and caused fire and cause of the pressure and i was so scared that i would be charged for the accident i run out of my consciousness..yeah..maybe that's what happened..

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poem by Ellirie Aviles
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Tear Drops And Closed Caskets The Good Die Young.

I went to a party, Mom,
I remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink and drive, Mom,
So I drank sprite instead.

I felt really proud inside, Mom,
The way you said I would.
I didn't drink and drive, Mom,
Even though the others said I should.

I know I did the right thing, Mom,
I know you're always right.
Now the party is finally ending, Mom,
As everyone drives out of sight.

As I got into my car, Mom,
I knew I'd get home in one piece,
Because of the way you raised me, Mom,
So responsible and sweet.

I started to drive away, Mom,
But as I pulled onto the road,
The other car didn't see me, Mom,
And it hit me like a load.

As I lie here on the pavement, Mom,
I hear the policeman say,
The other guy is drunk, Mom,
And now I'm the one who'll pay.

I'm lying here dying, Mom,
I wish you'd get here soon.
How come this happened to me, Mom?
My life burst like a balloon.

There is blood all around me, Mom,
Most of it is mine.
I hear the paramedic say, Mom,
i'll be dead in a short time.

I just wanted to tell you, Mom,
I swear I didn't drink.
It was the others, Mom,
The others didn't think.

He didn't know where he was going, Mom,
He was probably at the same party as I.
The only difference is, Mom,
He drank, and I will die.

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poem by Tamara Moir
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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

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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Death of an Innocent

I went to a party, mom, I remember what you said.
You told me not to drink, mom, so I drank soda instead.
I really felt proud inside, mom, even though the others said I should.

I know I did the right thing, mom, I know you are always right.
Now the party is finally ending, mom, as everyone is driving out of site.
As I got into my car, mom, I knew I would get home in one piece.
Because of the way you raised me, mom, so responsible and sweet.

I stared to drive away, mom, but I pulled out into the road,
The other car didn’t see me, mom, and hit me like a load.
As I lay here on the payment, mom, I hear the policeman say,
The other guy is drunk, mom, and now I’m the one who will pay.

I’m lying here dying, mom, I wish you’d get here soon.
How could this happen to me, mom? My life just burst like a balloon.
There is blood all around me, mom, and most of it is mine.
I hear the medic say, mom, I’ll die in a short time.

I just wanted to tell you, mom, I swear I didn’t drink.
It was the others, mom. The others didn’t think.

He was probably at the same party as I.
The only difference is, he drank and I will die.

Why do people drink, mom? It can ruin your whole life.
I’m feeling sharp pains now, mom, pains just like a knife.
The guy that hit me is walking, mom, I don’t think it is fair.
I’m lying here dying, mom, and all he can do is stare.

Tell my brother not to cry, mom, tell daddy to be brave.
And when I go to haven, mom, put “daddy’s girl” on my grave.
Someone should have told him, mom, not to drink and drive.
If only they had told him, mom, I would still be alive.

My breath is getting short, mom, I’m becoming very scared.
Please don’t cry for me, mom. When I need you, you were always there.

I have one last question, mom, before I say good bye.
I didn’t drink and drive, mom, so why am I the one to die?

poem by Kayla Woods
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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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Occupy MDP!

Occupy MDP!
that’s
mom’s and dad’s place -
you imbeciles!
Occupy
Mom’s and Dad’s place -
they’ve made too much money!
They’ve worked since
they were twenty
Looking after kids
and saving money –
being selfish
no charity!
just being plain greedy!
Occupy MDP!
Don’t you see?
Mom and Dad got too much money!
Look at me –
I’m twenty-eight
going on twenty-nine –
ain’t got a penny
ain’t got a honey
and Dad and Mom
got too much in the kitty
They put money in the bank!
Damn! Don’t you see?
Mom and Dad are capitalists!
Occupy MDP!
So Dad and Mom
thirty years
they worked
and raised kids
and they’ve paid every cent on the house!
Damn! Mom and Dad are capitalists!
Damn! – they’re bourgeoisie!
Occupy MDP!
Open their fridge– eat for free!
Watch TV, use their internet
and surf with glee –
Mom and Dad can pay every fee!
Cos they’re capitalists
and money pigs –
that’s what they are,
Mom and Dad
So Occupy MDP!
Lie in the couch
and get your friends
in the garden
and trample on the beds of flowers -
Damn! Can’t you see?

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poem by Raj Arumugam
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Thanks A Lot, Mom

Thanks a Lot, Mom

Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for loving me to no end.
Thanks for being my loving mother.
Thanks for being my thoughtful friend.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for feeding me and giving me a home.
Thanks for clothing me and holding me tight.
Thanks for caring when I felt alone.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for always making me smile.
Thanks for giving me the extra push.
Thanks for going that extra mile.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for living with no regrets.
Thanks for being the life of the party.
Thanks for going all in on bets.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for being my inspiration.
Thanks for helping me with my homework.
Thanks for giving me motivation.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for treating me with respect.
Thanks for knowing I'm growing up.
Thanks for knowing what to expect.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for kicking me while I was down.
Thanks for telling me I'm a liar.
Thanks for knowing what comes around.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for giving me my many scars.
Thanks for making me feel at home.
Thanks for breaking my aching heart.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for taking away my friends.
Thanks for taking away my family.
Thanks for not having to pretend.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for kicking me out of my home.
Thanks for calling me cheap and attention-seeking.
Thanks for putting me out on my own.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for ripping away my Brett.
Thanks for saying you don't remember.
Thanks for saying I should forget.
Thanks a lot, Mom.
Thanks for believing your husband over your kid.
Thanks for rewarding him for a crime.
Thanks for punishing me for what he did.

[...] Read more

poem by Rebecca Paul
Added by Poetry Lover
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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No Baloney Homosapiens

Hey you out there in outer space
You're lookin' at some style and grace
The blood and gutty human race
Well, come on down here to meet us
And all you sightings up there in the sky
Feel free to drop in anytime
Anytime you're just kinda passin' by
And you get the urge that you want to see us
Oh, we're fun and games
Just guys and just dames
But don't call us names
And most of all, please don't eat us
'Cause we're no baloney, homosapiens
We ain't phoney
Oh we're no baloney homsapiens
Listen, just 'cause you got
more ears than eyes
That just gives you more places to cry
And acutely hear all the moans and sighs
Of the relatives of the people
You disintegrated
And don't you say we're easy prey
'Cause buddy, that's the day
Your underestimation will defeat you
But don't worry, we're civilized
And we won't eat you
'Cause we're no baloney, we're homosapiens
We ain't no phoney
Yeah, we're no baloney homosapiens
We're black and white
You're green and blue
Well, we're all right, so are you... I think
My blood's thick red
You bleed black glue
So, let's not bleed at all
Is that all right with you
Yes, we're no baloney, we're homosapiens
We're not phoney
Yeah, we're no baloney homosapiens
Yes, we're no baloney, homosapiens
Take it back with ya
We're no baloney homosapiens
No baloney, homosapiens

song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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Death of an Innocent

I went to a party mom, I remembered what you said, you told me
Not to drink mom, so I drank soda instead.
I felt really proud inside mom, the way you said I would.
I didn’t drink and drive mom even though the others said I should.

I know I did the right thing mom, I know you’re always right, now
The party is finally ending mom and everyone is driving out of sight.
As I got into my car mom, I know I’d get home in one piece because
Of the way you raised me mom, so responsible and sweet.

I started to drive away, but as I pulled onto the road and the other
Driver didn’t see me and hit me like a load, as I lay here on the
Pavement mom, I heard the policeman say the other guy is drunk
And I’m the one who’ll pay.

I’m lying here dying mom I wish you’d get here soon, how come this
Happened to me mom my life burst like a balloon, there is blood all
Around me mom, most of it’s mine, I hear the paramedics say I’ll die
In a very short time.

I just wanted to tell you mom I swear I didn’t drink, it was the others mom,
The others didn’t think, he didn’t know where he was going mom, he was
Probably at the same party as I, the difference is mom he drank and I will die.

Why do people drink mom? It can ruin your whole life, I’m feeling sharp pains
Now mom, pains just like a knife. The guy who hit me is walking mom, I don’t
Think that is fair, I’m laying here dying mom while all he can do is stare.

Tell my brother not to cry mom, tell daddy to be brave and when I go to heaven
Put Daddy’s girl on my grave. Someone should have told him mom not to drink
And drive, if only they would have only taken the time mom I would still be alive.

My breath is getting shorter mom, I’m becoming very scared please don’t cry for
Me mom because when I needed you, you were always there. I have one last
Question mom before I say goodbye, I didn’t even drink mom, so why am I the
One to die.

This is the end mom I wish I could look you in the eye to say these final words
I love you and goodbye.

Written by Tami Fields-Hilger

poem by Tami Fields
Added by Poetry Lover
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Stacy's Mom

Stacy's Mom has got it going on
Stacy's Mom has got it going on
Stacy's Mom has got it going on
Stacy's Mom has got it going on
Stacy's Mom has got it going on
Stcy's Mom has got it going on
Stacy's Mom has got it going on
Stacy's Mom has got it going on
Stacy can I come over after school?
Stacy can I come over after school?
(After school)
We can hang around by the pool
We can hang around by the pool
Did your mom get back from her buisness trip?
(Hang by the pool)
Is she there or is she trying to give me the slip?
Did your mom get back from her buisness trip?
(Business trip)
You know I'm not the little boy that I used to be
Is she there or is she trying to give me the slip?
I'm all grown up now baby cant you see
(Give me the slip)
Stacy's mom has got it going on
You know I'm not the little boy that I used to be
She's all I want and I 've waited for so long
I'm all grown up now baby cant you see
Stacy cant you see your just not the girl for me
I know it might be wrong but I'm in love with Stacy's mom
Stacy's mom has got it goin' on
She's all I want and I've waited for so long
Stacy's Mom has got it going on
Stacy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me?
Stacy's Mom has got it going on
I know I might be wrong but
I'm in love with Stacy's mom
Stacy do you remeber when I mowed your lawn
Your mom came out with just a towel on
Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn?
I could tell she liked me by the way she stared
(Mowed your lawn)
And the way she said you missed a spot over there
Your mom came out with just a towel o-o-o-on
(Towel on)
And I know that you think it's just a fantsy
I could tell she liked me from the way she stared
But since your dad walked out your mom could use a guy like me
(Way she stared)
And the way she said "You missed a spot over there"
Stacy's Mom has got it going on.
(Spot over there)

[...] Read more

song performed by Fountains Of Wayne
Added by Lucian Velea
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Don't mix drinking and driving.

I went to a party Mom,
I remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink, Mom,
So I drank soda instead.

I really felt proud inside, Mom,
The way you said I would.
I didn't drink and drive, Mom,
Even though the others said I should.

I know I did the right thing, Mom,
I know you are always right.
Now the party is finally ending, Mom,
As everyone is driving out of sight.

As I got into my car, Mom,
I knew I'd get home in one piece.
Because of the way you raised me,
So responsible and sweet.

I started to drive away, Mom,
But as I pulled out into the road,
The other car didn't see me, Mom,
And hit me like a load.

As I lay there on the pavement, Mom,
I hear the policeman say,
'The other guy is drunk, ' Mom,
And now I'm the one who will pay.

I'm lying here dying, Mom....
I wish you'd get here soon.
How could this happen to me, Mom?
My life just burst like a balloon.

There is blood all around me, Mom,
And most of it is mine.
I hear the medic say, Mom,
I'll die in a short time.

I just wanted to tell you, Mom,
I swear I didn't drink.

[...] Read more

poem by Rakesh Rampariya
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Drunk Driving

I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink, Mom, so I drank soda instead
I really felt proud inside, Mom, the way you said I would.
I didn't drink and drive, Mom, even though the others said I should.
I know I did the right thing, Mom, I know you are always right.

Now the party is finally ending
Mom, as everyone is driving out of sight.
As I got into my car, Mom, I knew I'd get home in one piece.
Because of the way you raised me, so responsible and sweet.
I started to drive away, Mom, but as I pulled out into the road,
the other car didn't see me, Mom, and hit me like a load.

As I lay there on the pavement, Mom, I hear the policeman say,
the other guy is drunk, Mom, and now I'm the one who will pay.
I'm lying here dying, Mom.. I wish you'd get here soon.
How could this happen to me, Mom? My life just burst like a balloon.
There is blood all around me, Mom, and most of it is mine.
I hear the medic say, Mom, I'll die in a short time.

I just wanted to tell you, Mom, I swear I didn't drink.
It was the others, Mom. The others didn't think.
He was probably at the same party as I.
The only difference is, he drank and I will die.
Why do people drink, Mom? It can ruin your whole life.
I'm feeling sharp pains now. Pains just like a knife.

The guy who hit me is walking, Mom, and I don't think it's fair.
I'm lying here dying and all he can do is stare.
Tell my brother not to cry, Mom. Tell Daddy to be brave.
And when I go to heaven, Mom, put 'moms boy' on my grave.
Someone should have told him, Mom, not to drink and drive.

If only they had told him, Mom, I would still be alive.
My breath is getting shorter, Mom. I'm becoming very scared.
Please don't cry for me, Mom. When I needed you, you were always there.
I have one last question, Mom, before I say good bye.
I didn't drink and drive, so why am I the one to die?

poem by Bailey Watkins
Added by Poetry Lover
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