Their Back
A construction company is yet again in my yard.
Ripping and tearing.
This time it is the state that agitates.
No notice, no guarantees, no nothing.
Who are we, but a mere number.
Coming to fix something, only to leave it worse.
With nasty words I curse.
Spit out the words lawyer and sue.
But still It doesn't do anything to get through.
Deaf ears
They don't care.
Its not their money being wasted.
A tax dollar lost, a tax dollar gained
All the same.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Mothers' Love
It rips at the soul the way only a mothers love could do.
The freshness of it is yet of the autumn dew.
Trees start to turn the colors of reds, yellows and orange.
And then is the sadness in which it comes. the first brown leaf being crumbled up and blowing away.
It becomes dirt and creates something new.
A little baby sprout is growing from it.
It carries but the very features she has.
One day too, she'll become like the freshness of the autumn dew.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Fame That Destroyed The Poet
To be poet you must have desire to understand in all things large and small.
Even what being poet means after all.
Fame is hardly lived by those who are truly great.
In fame we all wish to embrace.
Some desire it more then others.
But an expectation of the best will only smother.
Extinguish a flame that yet needs to grow.
A burning of such a unique cloth.
The embers begin glow as the material turns to ash.
And something you had is gone just like that.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Old Hounds Fresh Kill
Freshness is something we always need.
Rewording the savage beast.
Glorifying the old hound as he hunts.
His speed is not that fast.
But it is a steady pace.
For him its no longer race.
He just wants to finish what he has started.
And he has had plenty of practice accomplishing this goal.
All cheer as he finishes.
Bringing in another kill.
It puts food on the table.
It's something that we all can eat.
And we should be both grateful and thankful for it.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Paranoia Of The Dread
The anonymous speaks to me.
Speaks of misgivings and curiosities.
With reason unknown.
With symptoms of desperation.
Do you really have to know?
What is it you already think?
A imaginary connection.
It doesn't really exist, it is all your head.
Paranoia of the dread.
Fishing for a story that's already dead.
It's not my fault, I didn't tell you what to think.
I'm just a simple man.
Their is no elaborate plan.
A failure to condemn.
Another useless hymn.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Sick
I'm not aloud to get sick.
It's against the law.
It's against my religion.
A job that depends on me being their.
A survival of my current affair.
Feed some rice to a pigeon.
Faking a feeling of awe.
I feel like I have been hit in the head with a club like stick.
A headache that can't exist.
Lungs that should be breathing clearly.
And a stomach that should be able swallow anything.
A boss getting pissed.
A job I care about dearly.
And all else that's missing.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Believers
To those who believe everything I say to be real and true
What's wrong with you?
Think about what I say.
Could I write in such a way.
If It was a now as in the present.
Events pasted are part of my life as I see relevant
No I don't portray what is truths, wholesome, and for the best.
Forget all you think you know
For its not for the best
I'm a character as we all are
Playing my part
As horrible it might seem
It's me for me
Please open your eyes and just see
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Off To The Next
With peace some find clarity
Others once found they never want to go back
Till the very end of their longevity
Me personally I desire it in small doses
Here's, your medicine please take it
And with solicitation so widely spread and commonly accepted
Soon or later someone is bound to reject it
Do they solicitors obsess on the failure in a gain?
Do they try to destroy and maim?
Or do they ignore it and move on?
A sucker easily met eh and it is off to the next
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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(Fairness Poem) Big Fat Goose
Someone must win someone must lose.
Catching the big fat goose.
Fairness, is belief that all things are considered equal.
Whether they are or not.
In a contest, a prize is given when a challenge is completed.
It is designed for someone to get defeated.
Does that make it unfair?
Rules abound.
Someone has to hammer them down.
A honest man given the chance would not be so honest.
Are those feelings of deceit because you were beat?
Or did someone actually cheat?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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(Grateful Poem) A Hero's Ending
Yes indeed credit is never given where it should.
Especially when come to things of the good.
Even more is his worthiness of appreciation he constantly denies.
To live his life the best he can is all he tries.
The skies take these hero's quite frequently unnoticed.
To heaven they go by making a last stand.
In honor we should demand.
A remembrance never to be remembered.
No matter if it is a violent or a happy ending.
Somethings in this world are worth defending.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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