The world is anorphan's broken toy.Heart like a ferrel hog,untamed by cages andstarvation.The depth of misery andelation sink dripping teethinto ripe peaches.Come on in.Ignore the floating, bloatedbodies.There's a pool of Shalomsomewhere.We all want to be healed.

They say time is grace.Others say she is a disgrace.Her hair grows long with time. And when a new opportunity comes,she trims it.And life moves on.They say she is cold and cruel. For she doesn't give us endless minutes.Never endless moments.Untill...

  We first met in the projects, no more than projects ourselvesBoth sets of parents mere teenagers, barely knowing themselvesEach feening for love, love that could and would come in many formsTo suffer in in silent despair was not outside...