You frolicked gaily at the masquerade
Swooned like a schoolgirl at a hit parade
Reaching and conversing throughout the day
Thinking to yourself you can do this thing
Clueless to what you’re setting yourself up for
A genius IQ does not smart this one make
It makes him cunning and wickedly dangerous
Numerous casualties left in his wake
Never to be believed
By those who think they know
Having seen only what he wants them to see
Accepting membership to his mutual admiration society
Oh, but those eyes and that innocent charm
You’re dreaming even now of being in his arms
While he claims you’re the only one understands
Sharing his stories of loneliness and pain
This isn’t fate and you haven’t touched his soul
He wants nothing from you but simple validation
If lucky another notch on his bed of four posts
To appease and arouse his manipulating ego
Sometimes all you need is a soft pillow and furry belly . . .
©2013 jillterry │jillterry.com
My heart aches for the beauty of the fall; the last big hurrah before winter’s chilly dawn, covers the earth with a blanket of frost. The eternal beauty of autumn’s colors lost.
©2013 jillterry | jillterry.com
As I walk along this sand covered patch of earth, the wind cool upon my flesh, bringing the waves to a crashing end, just inches from my feet; it’s hard for me to fathom that there are people dotting the same world, who woke to this day, hearts filled with hatred, souls set on death and destruction; under the same beautiful sun that kisses my skin even now.
When you stop behaving like a human being and cross over into monster territory, all human rights should be stripped away. At that point you become a lab rat; studied and dissected, until the answer to, “What the fuck is WRONG with people” is found.
Unless it simply boils down to some people being borne into the world with evil in their souls, in which case exorcism should become the norm and not a fictional hot topic for entertainment purposes.
Let’s face it; state sanctioned prison rehabilitation was not created to save lost souls.
That is all.
©2013 jill terry
The pain we carry
Whether real or
Keep us trapped
No matter what hope
We think we’ve found
Or how deep a mark
We believe we’ve made
The illusion fades
Because it’s a mere
Of who we really are
In fear we retreat
Back inside ourselves
Not wanting to reveal
Or able to self heal
Our hidden truths
That cause fear and pain
With the power to drive
All else away