In my world there is always a glass, sometimes, like last night the liquid in that glass evaporated and became half full. My glass never ever becomes empty. Because in my world there is always hope. Since there is hope I can fill the glass up and it becomes full. Full with hope that man will one day learn the true meaning of brotherly love, sister unity and world peace. You see in my world there’s tranquility when the sunsets with a promise of tomorrow. When the tomorrow comes, there’s rejoicing with the rising sun that kisses away the dew and arise to the singing of the birds songs of new life being reborn day after day.
Today is a new day, with its own new adversities to weigh heavy on my heart. An eighteen year old kid three arrests for gun possession and he was still on the street. Cut loose by blind justice. So blinded that it allowed him to be on the streets and finally shoot that gun. He shot a kid in the buttocks. Thank God he did catch a body. It’s still sad that this child will be will go to jail and instead of learning from his errors he will be a more dangerous criminal. I can’t help but think that he was cut loose and given enough bullets to fuck himself.Teen collared in Far Rockaway
I read this morning that our Governor, here in NY, wants to create a data base of DNA’s for all criminals which would include misdemeanors. I don’t know really how I feel about that. They say it will help the police solve crimes easier and exclude innocent people at the same time. However, it sounds more like policing even the innocent. We have cameras all over the place. Even one of the security companies are offering to put camera’s in your home. Big brother’s always watching. You’re sitting at your computer? How do you know if anyone is watching you or not? Huh? Get your finger out your nose. I how all of this will helps, but I also see how our rights are being violated. It’s scary to me.
I became a little side tracked this essay is on hope I read this blog this morning Believe Away and she helped me out that funk I was. By reminding me through her words that we all see the world through different eyes yet there is always hope.
Then I read a blog from The Motley News in this article it speaks about all the killings that have occurred in New Orleans so far this year. All the victims and shooters are under the age of 30. It is heartbreaking. The article is The other side of New Orleans/ Murder Capital of the country. (I can’t get the link but you can Google and find it.)
I wonder myself, how can I have hope, when so much hell is growing around me. Our environment isn’t even safe. I touched on that briefly in my blog
‘I Want My winter’ about global warming. We as human don’t even respect our environment. When reading Four Blue Hills She re-blogged from
Wistfully Wandering whose blog talks about the most beautiful trees in the world. Then guess what I read in the paper. A woman named Sara Barnes burns down the fifth oldest tree in the world, while she was high on meth.
Despite all this I read, I can’t believe there is no hope for us. Should we start building an ark? Should we start gathering the animals in pairs and wait for God to destroy us all? Or are we going to destroy ourselves?
About two weeks ago my nephew gave birth to my great nephew. We all celebrated the birth of a new baby. Was it really a good thing? He’s another life, in this cruel and heartless world. Will this earth become a safe haven for all? The beauty of my nephew being born gives us the hope I’m talking about. A new life brings new possibilities. So have a drink of my full glass that will never become less than half full. I hope to be around to pour some more if it does.
The devil is amused,
by all the fools who lose their cool
in the arena of shattered dreams.
Lost in the lust of want before the must.
Pleasing the greedy, that preys on the needy.
Concealed in the source, of freedom of choice,
full of remorse.
Precious jewels, of no value,
bursting with diluted morale.
It’s all about me, can’t you see?
Material gain, my private fame.
Family illusions, a future of confusion.
What is joy? An emotional toy?
A paranoid schizophrenic void?
Half pass the race of thought,
personal existence is short.
The clock of time slows to an end,
a battle of amends.
Fortune accounts fill with selfish needs.
A chest full of guilt, regret and treasures of greed.
Praying for a cheating win.
Paying tithes, with hopes of liquidating sins.
A vanishing pass,
And breath takes its last.
Final thoughts of waking conscious.
By: K. Wilhelmina Floria