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"Little Billy"


Chapter 1
Twisted Faces in hiding places.

By keimosobie

Twisted faces in hiding places.
I still hear the sound of the screaming ground.
Rain poured down and washed all traces.

Reality's paces tie imagination's laces.
Mother's tears surround as they fall down.
Twisted faces in hiding places.

Buried on a desk in a stack of cold cases.
If I were caught he would have been found
Rain poured down and washed away all traces.

Now I'm not in God's good graces.
Fear overwhelms my heart all 'round.
Twisted faces in hiding places.

A child has thoughts he easily replaces.
I can't go back from lies I'm bound.
Rain poured down and washed away all traces.

I somehow covered all my bases.
Mother's great prince could have been crowned.
Twisted faces in hiding places.
Rain poured down and washed away all traces.

Author Notes Real or imagined? A villanelle has only two rhyme sounds. The first and third lines of the first stanza are rhyming refrains that alternate as the third line in each successive stanza and form a couplet at the close. A villanelle is nineteen lines long, consisting of five tercets and one concluding quatrain.


Chapter 2
Chasing my Tail.

By keimosobie

I feel your hands upon me,
molding me.
Teaching me to think,
like you think.
I will think,
like you think.
For a while,
anyway.
Then I will think,
some more.
Am I a ship,
ready to sail?
Or just a dog,
chasing my tail?


Chapter 3
Foster Mother

By keimosobie

Thank you for the love you gave.
You spent it all but none you saved.

You'll never know how much I needed you.
You saved my life and gave me your virtue.

Every day you labored and toiled
to right the wrongs of a life spoiled.

I couldn't know what you had done.
I was in pain and had nowhere to run.

I remember when I was three,
And I sat on Santa's knee.

You told me not to ask but I did.
It was something supposed to be hid.

I asked to have my mother back.
She left me and that's the fact.

I couldn't get past the hurt and the pain.
All my efforts were in vain.

But you held me tight just the same.
Kept me dry throughout all the rain.

Dear foster mother I hope I'm not late.
I'll never know of your fate.

But I need to say I know what you did.
A hero for me, and my love I do bid.








Chapter 4
Im Waiting.......

By keimosobie

Stir the pot it's going to boil.
Your Christ says you lay down your life.
What will you do when the earth's out of oil?


You pray in church on your knees you toil.
But your sister, your brother, your neighbor, your wife?
Stir the pot it's going to boil.


All your dreams that I will foil.
Cut through them all like a sharpened knife.
What will you do when the earth's out of oil?


All of your hopes will never re spoil.
When you feel the pains of hunger and strife.
Stir the pot it's going to boil.


When your faith starts to wilt, soften and moil.
When order is gone and madness is rife.
What will you do when the earth's out of oil?


All of your kings that are so royal.
Will beg for mercy under my scythe.
Stir the pot it's going to boil
What will you do when the earth's out of oil?













Author Notes A villanelle has only two rhyme sounds. The first and third lines of the first stanza are rhyming refrains that alternate as the third line in each successive stanza and form a couplet at the close. A villanelle is nineteen lines long, consisting of five tercets and one concluding quatrain.


Chapter 5
Sending You My Love.

By keimosobie

I send my soul to soar lifting off this page
Timeless and unchanging given from above
A gift that was opened on this perfect stage

I cast it all upon you like a magic mage
It fits every heart like a velvet glove
I send my soul to soar lifting off this page

This gift that lasts forever and won't grow old with age
It gets lifted into the heavens on wings of a dove
A gift that was opened on this perfect stage

It won't make you jealous or fill your heart with rage
Everything you can imagine or ever thought of
I send my soul to soar lifting off this page

So I'm letting it all out of its golden cage
Although the door is open sometimes it needs a shove
A gift that was opened on this perfect stage

I'm giving it for free, no need to pay a wage
Out across the universe I'm sending all my love
I send my soul to soar lifting off this page
A gift that was opened on this perfect stage











 

Author Notes A villanelle has only two rhyme sounds. The first and third lines of the first stanza are rhyming refrains that alternate as the third line in each successive stanza and form a couplet at the close. A villanelle is nineteen lines long, consisting of five tercets and one concluding quatrain


Chapter 6
fall the day dead

By keimosobie

can't stop  feel  fall
can't stand  too small

fear and stress  all
my heart pounds  fall

can't  see  so stressed
look bad  get  dressed

not  one who's  blessed
could you  have guessed

leaves  hang over head
wind  blows of dread

the pain  my head 
fall the day dead

cold seep my bone
wish all  alone

 ill not out grown
see what has shown

much worse this year
 no zest or cheer

my cheek blue tear
pill stop kind  fear

Author Notes I would love to thank maxxjong20112 for the use of the art work.


Chapter 7
The Challenge.

By keimosobie

First, I should introduce myself. I am Timothy. I've lived on Long Island my entire life and have grown to love the ocean. My wife, Christine, and I have three children, Emily-thirteen, William-sixteen, and T.J.-eighteen months. It's been so busy lately that we just haven't had time for dieting and exercise. This summer, we decided to get a little rest and relaxation and exercise at the ocean by camping at Smithpoint beach on Fire Island. My wife's brother, Tom, and sister, Pat, and Pat's daughter, Samantha went with us.

The waves on this day were incredible. A hurricane far out at sea had kicked up the surf. The waves were higher than the top of the dunes. They rolled in one after another. The sky was clear, and the sun shined brightly. What the storm had created laid hidden beneath the waves. I could sense what was there: turmoil and anger mixed with power and exhilaration. I wanted it, all of it, everything a summer's day at the beach could give. Swimming out to get my first taste of summer fun, I rode some of those beautiful waves savoring it as much as possible. The thing about riding a wave this big is they can brake on the sand and if your riding one that does that, it will drill you face first into the sand and then fold you in half breaking your back in the process. If you think that might happen you have to bail out of the wave and I mean quickly. That means stop but, tuck and roll so you don't brake.

I was in heaven but, it was very exhausting. The current was so strong I came back to the shallows to get my wind. This gave me time for some soul searching. I began thinking about the trouble I had with my marriage. About two years ago, I cheated on my wife and got my girlfriend pregnant. She later had an abortion. My wife forgives me but I can't forgive myself. I was afraid I would be condemned to an eternity in hell. Gripped with fear. I wondered how I could possibly fix things with the Almighty. Next, I did something incredibly brave, and equally as stupid.

Looking at the water I said out loud: "Satan, if you are going to take my soul, take it now or release it."

Sick and tired of worrying about it, I raced back into the sea, riding these tremendous waves like a mad man eating his last meal.

All the while thinking to myself, he could just send a huge shark to devour me.

Come what may, I was ready. Knowing it probably wouldn't happen that way. I swam on till I exhausted myself completely. Feeling satisfied I waded out of the ocean. Ultimately victorious for conquering the ocean and Satan all in one blow. Sitting around the campfire that night I was at peace, remembering the swell of the ocean, the roar of the waves and magic of the summer. Life was good.

The next day, I arose early. My wife took the baby home sometime in the middle of the night so she could get some rest in the air conditioning.

"Who want's pancakes?" I asked, deciding to make breakfast for everyone.

"Now it's time for a swim," I said. Samantha and Emily quickly asked to come along and we were off.

The waves were even better than they were the day before. I rode a couple and I got slammed and scraped my shoulder on the sandy bottom. I was still a little tired from my escapades of the day before and the lack of sleep in the hot tent.

As I came close to the shore Samantha was there. "How is it out there?" she asked.

"It's a little rough," I said. "Why, do you want to go out?"

"Yes," she said.

I had seen Samantha handle some waves in the past, and thought it would be OK if I brought her out to jump through a wave or two.

The waves started to pound in furiously, one after another. One wave caught hold and ripped her from my grasp. She tossed and tumbled. The waves came with such force I managed to catch up with her and bring her through each wave. Next thing I new, we couldn't touch bottom. We were being pulled out to sea amazingly quick. I held her hand, swimming toward the shore with all my might, but the shore drew farther and farther away. Fear began to grip me. It was like falling in quicksand. The more I struggled the worse things were getting.

Fear and dread coursed through my tired body. I waved to the shore frantically for help. We had the attention of the early beach goers but no one ventured in.

Cowards, I thought, there is a little girl out here.

My mind raced searching for another solution. I searched the sky for a rescue plane, but that was in vain. We were at least one-quarter mile out. Samantha wouldn't be able to tread water too much longer, even with me holding her.

Despair seized me. I told Samantha,"We might not make it back."

She replied,"what do you mean?"

I didn't tell her what it meant. My tired heart beat a mile a minute. Having no gas left in my tank, I thought about the fact that I could possibly save myself. I quickly dismissed that idea, resigning myself to the fact that these waters might be a chilling end to me. I figured we were both going to make it or I was going to die trying. Feeling terrible that I got us in this situation made me feel even worse. I had to stop thinking negatively. It wasn't going to help us now anyway.

Telling Samantha to,"relax," I took her right hand in my left and swam with her in tow. She truly did not comprehend the danger we were in. She never cried or tried to lay blame on me. Heading for the shore with every last breath that was left in me. Running marathons didn't make me this tired. Fearing my heart would give out, without looking at the shore or looking at her behind me. I just drove for the shore.

Soon I felt the swell of a wave. It was a monster. Catching this wave would have been possible for me, but not with me towing Samantha behind me. If I caught the wave in she wouldn't and the force of the wave would pull us apart. She would be left to fend for herself and with the tide pulling out so fast she would be lost. If we didn't catch the wave then all the water from this humongous wave would pull us back out to sea as the water receded.

With no energy left and no other choice available, I decided to set her into the wave. It had to be done quickly. Samantha protested quite a bit. The wave was passed me but with a Herculean effort I managed to push her through the back of the wave into it. My effort paid off as she began to coast toward the shore.

To my luck, another wave arrived right behind it. I rode it some way up the beach but decided to bail out to look for Sam. I frantically searched for Sam and horrifically, I saw her start to get sucked back out to sea.

"Fight it, Sam. Stand up,"I yelled

"I can't," she cried.

She was in waist-deep water but the current was so strong she couldn't stand. Fighting to get to her but I couldn't get there fast enough. She managed to stand up before another wave crashed down on her. She stood for maybe a half second before that wave hit. She caught the wave instead of passing through and back out to sea, ridding it up to the shore she got up and walked out onto the beach.

I slowly made my way to the shore. The water slipped from my body and I emerged from the sea. Lifting the hangman's noose from my neck in doing so. I swallowed about a ton of water, but somehow managed to tell her, " At least we are alive."

Sitting on shore to regain my composure, gratefully noticing we had gotten swept down the beach a little so I didn't have to face all the people that were now terrified by our harrowing ordeal. I asked Samantha not to tell her mother. Samanthas mother had a lot of problems and she would not of handled this well. I got up and slowly walked over to my beach chair and sat. Even though we were both safe I couldn't shake this feeling of dread. I was exhausted for about three days after this event. Two thigs you can be sure of. Samantha walked out of that ocean before I did and that I was a complete idiot for taking her out there. I quit smoking the next day and haven't smoked since.

It wasn't till later that day that I prayed an "Our Father". I felt praise coming from God, Jesus and the angels. That was when I remembered my challenge to Satan. He evidently took me up on my offer. He had somehow worked it out with God to give me a test. If I had failed, Satan would have won and I would have been lost. Since I never gave up on Sam and was willing to die for her, I had won and God has been blessing me ever since.

Author Notes This story is true.
Thank you too "Moon Willow" for this excellent art piece.


Chapter 8
The Devils Seed

By keimosobie

"The Devil's Seed" by Keimosobie

smoldering embers that combust into fire
in the darkness lies ultimate desire

every heart's contemplation
lies hidden with imagination

wanting to take what is taken
knowing what is forsaken

go back Moses with your commandment
you don't know hopeless abandonment

it's not from angels up in heaven
or from preachers and their brethren

not just from lust and sinful greed
It's the pain that spawns the Devil's seed



Author Notes For anyone who has ever submitted to temptation like me.


Chapter 9
Love's casualty

By keimosobie

Oh love's horrific
wake of devastation
Monstrous and tragic
without provocation


Author Notes


Chapter 10
Cop

By keimosobie

COP
Honor
Commitment

Forever faithful
Gilded by acts of Love
Informs loved ones of their loss

"With poet's eyes they cry justice"

Author Notes To my brother, not just my older brother but everyone's.


Chapter 11
Broken wings.

By keimosobie

stolen treasure from my chest
all we had to invest
there was only one key that fit
given away lickity split

pieces of a puzzle thrown away
the perfect picture to portray
fighting hard to hide the stain
with wounds bleeding like the rain

memories of that fateful night
couldn't stop though it's not right
all the love for us to share
nothing left now it's all bare

giving in to carnal lust
there's no one left to trust
sowed the seeds of misery
never again to be free

angel wings have been broken
without a word to be spoken
crushed under the heavy weight
stuck here till we meet our fate

love has left me full of sorrow
till the end of all tomorrow
been trying hard to pretend
that it's not really the end




Author Notes Thank you to fantasypainting for the use of her art work titled broken.


Chapter 12
freedom

By keimosobie

this is my father whom I never met
his name is on a wall a Vietnam Vet

fought for his country a really great man
a father to be but the world had another plan

I see his picture he was very young
a life that had barely begun

he was three years older than my son
If I was his dad I would tell him to run

now I can see who really was in need
was the politicians and their greed

the simple life is what's worth living
for freedom there is no thanksgiving

give me some seeds a field and a plow
all natures gifts God will allow

each day with my family a gift of love
heaven on earth sent from above





Author Notes I love you Dad. I don't think I ever said that.


Chapter 13
Olivita's Wish

By keimosobie


one day a little baby girl was born
to my lady without my knowledge
all I wanted was to get back with my ex
and get back to college
however long it takes and
no matter what I have to do
there was no one or nothing I could do
amongst only a few

twelve years and
some tears
whisky dreams and
paper seams

the pain may be unbearable and intermittent.
yet it can't stop the promise of a commitment.
so I went along my way on a sealed ordered mission.
sometimes acting passive almost never aggressive,
usually submissive
unlike nuclear fission and ignition
so peace could reign and all might live

twelve years and
some tears
whiskey dreams and
paper seams.

I wandered with purpose and
often aimlessly
in my heart she would not
lose face or dignity
and then someone else makes
a pass at me,

now no booze
now no fire
I won't lose
my heart's desire

what will I do when I meet
this sweet child?
I'll treat her with fondness and
love mild
my journeys seem to have no
end in sight
but I still love you and them
with all my might

what lies ahead for Olivita?
no one really knows


Author Notes This poem was written by an inpatient in a psychiatric facility who used to be an RN and he recently found out he had a daughter.


Chapter 14
Letting Go.

By keimosobie

"If only I knew...." This is a tale of what happens when you hold on to something for too long. I don't like talking about this, but I'm going to do it. It's a good tale and it's worth telling.

It was Christmas Eve around nineteen seventy five. I remember the car ride to my grandmother's house. My younger sister BethAnne was around five years old and my older brother Billy was around thirteen and myself, Timothy, around eight. The conversation went something like this.

"What do you mean she's there? Forget it, we are not going!" said Dad.

"We have to go. The children are so looking forward to it," said Mom.

It was true we always looked forward to Christmas Eve at Grandma's. It was my mother's mother and my aunt and uncles and cousins would always be there. It was a magical time when I was a kid.

"What do you mean we are not going?"I asked my Dad.

"Yeah, what do you mean?" Mom asked.

No reply came from my Dad and we all continued to my Grandmother's. I was very curious but I was happy we were on our way and didn't think much more about it.

When we got to our grandmother's my aunt, Lori was visiting with her husband,Rob. What I didn't know was about to bubble to the surface. "You see, I was meeting my Aunt Lori for the first time or, so I thought; I began to tell her about my history."

"Even as a child I loved to tell the story of my life and a set of fresh ears was always welcome. My aunt seemed terribly interested in what I had to say."

"I was left in a foster home by my mother when I was three," I recounted.

"That must have been terrible for you," she replied.

"I miss my mother so much and many times I had cried myself to sleep thinking about her."

"I'm sure your mother had a good reason for leaving you," she said.

"Oh, I know why my mother left me," I replied.

"How could you possibly remember; you were only three?" she asked.
"She left me because she found a new man who didn't want kids," I said.

"So she left me in a foster home. I remember the day she left I asked her 'Are you coming back?"

"Yes," my mother had replied.

I don't know why, but I had the feeling she wasn't coming back. She didn't come back, or at least so I thought. That's when things got weird and they were about to get a lot weirder.

"See I didn't lie," my aunt said.

Thinking my aunt had simply misspoken, I said,"She did lie. She never came back."

Later on after we opened the gifts I was sitting on the sofa and staring at my Uncle Rob. I wasn't just staring.

You see five years earlier, the day before my mother and her new boyfriend were going to put me in a foster home, they took me out and asked me what I wanted to do. I wanted to ride in one of those push pedal cars. So they took me to a junk yard and they paid the junk guy some money to let me ride the car around.

At the age of three I knew what was going to happen. Don't ask me how. As I rode my car around I stopped in front of my mother and her new man and I stared at them. Partly because I was hoping the guilt would make them change their mind and because I wanted to remember this man-this man who was separating me from the only thing I had in the world.

It was just me and mom for the first three years of my life. (You see, my real father was killed by a mortar round or a rocket in Vietnam while my mother was five months pregnant with me. So for three years my mother cried on my shoulder, she used me as her teddy bear to comfort her through many lonely nights and painful days.)

I parked in front of them and stared at him. Burning an image of him in my mind and praying to God for vengeance against him. They told me to stop staring so I pedaled on. Well, here I was five years later sitting on the sofa looking at Uncle Rob in his chair.

Somewhere from my subconscious came the memories of a three-year-old and without even realizing it, I was staring at Rob the way I stared at him when I was riding that car five years earlier. Just then poor uncle Rob became very distressed.

"Oh my god. He is staring at me the way he looked at me that day."

Racked with guilt he put his hands over his ears and was making this high pitched whining noise rocking back and forth. I must admit, I didn't really know what was happening. Later that night when things had settled down, my aunt and uncle talked with my parents, they argued for some time.

"I told you, I knew we shouldn't have come here. I knew this would happen," My dad said loudly.

They seemed to come to a settlement and my aunt came to me and asked me an even more peculiar question, at least I thought so at the time.

"Would you like to come live with me and Uncle Rob?"

Well I thought about just saying yes, but I wanted more to go on.

"Why would I want to do that?" I asked.

"I think you know." She said.

My father immediately interjected.

"That's it. You have your answer," he said.

I was immediately ushered off into to some other room. Later I tried to ask questions about what had gone down. I would not get any further information. With the ease of an eight year old, excited about Christmas. I quickly forgot the whole thing.

On the car ride home my mother asked, "Why did you tell your aunt about missing your mother so much?"

"She seemed interested," I replied simply.

"Well you shouldn't do that," she replied.

"Okay Mom," I said.

Well that's the story except that when I got older my mom told me that my Aunt Lori and my uncle Rob had broken up.

"That's too bad," I said earnestly.

"You are the main reason," She said.

"How could that be," I asked.

"Just trust me," She said.

I didn't understand how that could be at the time, but I didn't pursue it. You see, I caused a great deal of pain. To myself, to my Aunt and Uncle Rob. I could have reclaimed her. To be honest, I should have let it go.

That would have been best for everybody. If I had it to do over again I would. I held on so tightly. I hurt many people, foster parents, teachers, friends. If I hadn't loved her so much, if I would have let it slip gently from my being. I would have been much better off. I didn't though and I am sorry for everything.

You might be wondering, how I pieced this together? When I was an adult I went back to college. At the tender age of thirty I took English 101. For an assignment, I wrote a persuasive essay. It could be real or made up but I had to back it up with facts.

I made up a scenario that my father's brother who was killed in Vietnam was really my father. I then began to fill this essay with facts that would prove he was my real father. The only thing was the facts were real. He really was my father and then a few years later I did it again with my Aunt being my real mother and guess what the facts were real. Some of them I just revealed to you.

Just do me a favor if someone who knows me reads this, don't tell anyone. I figured this stuff out thirteen years ago and this is the first I've spoken of it.

Author Notes Thank you to Cammy Cards for the use of your photo.


Chapter 15
The Endless Night.

By keimosobie

sixty nine days underground
without sight without sound
they work frantically up above
way down here we feel the love

they say my country swells with pride
please don't tell them that I cried
two weeks ago my wife gave birth
the endless night gave way to mirth

in this hole where I am resident
I got to speak to the president
it gets so hard not to give up hope
all the prayers help us cope

I hope this story has a happy ending
in case it dosen't my love I'm sending
if I ever escape this plight
I promise to do what I know is right


Author Notes I dedicate this poem to the trapped Chilian minners. The 2010 Copiap?? mining accident was a mining accident that occurred on 5 August 2010, when the San Jos??????????


Chapter 16
A life gambled and lost.

By keimosobie

sitting among the multitude
up here in the solitude
now there is no gratitude

I speculate and contemplate
on choices I hesitate
now I often designate

if one would go back in time
was there a choice left behind
something I could see but blind

was there a love that was forbidden
or a deed better left hidden
a different life that was worth living


in this life I traversed the maze
a hidden path covered in haze
on greener pasture I could now graze

with nothing but time to lament
when I lost this main event
for my mind now to torment

if I had gone to college
and had acquired some knowledge
wouldn't be standing on this ledge

with only one choice left to make
one more tiny step to take
for this end I can not fake

I rolled the dice and I lost
now I have to pay the cost
let my grave cover with frost

nothing left now it's all done
it's been real it's been fun
now my last trip has begun


Chapter 17
Time In A Bottle.

By keimosobie

In my second foster home as a six year old child, the family took a trip to Disney World. In this family I had a fourteen year-old sister named Francis. She was another foster child like me. I had a 14 year-old sister named Kathy Buccalos, she was my parents daughter by birth. I had a 15 year old brother named Mike Buccalos and a seventeen year old brother named Fred Buccalos Jr. Then there was my parents Fred and Ruth Buccalos and me Little Billy.

They were a good people, very fair, but strict. My dad worked for Ma Bell and every summer he got a vacation. We religiously packed up the pop up trailer and drove to some trailer park to have our family vacation. Something I looked forward to more then you can imagine.

This year we were off to sunny Orlando Florida, Disney World. I was a big Micky Mouse Club Fan. The old black and white episodes with Annette Funicello.

Mickey was a big deal to me. Off we went packed into our big yellow station wagon with the pop up in tow. My parents had carefully orchestrated the trip so we would drive for a while then stay over night at some camp ground. Then move on the next morning to travel all day to another camp ground. Finally we arrived at Disney.

Each day of driving seemed like an eternity to this six year old. When we arrived at each camp site we set up camp and believe me my dad was an ex army man. When we set up camp we were preparing for battle. Tents were pitched with trenches dug around them to keep the flow of water off the tents. The pop up never seemed to go up smoothly, always some problem with the awning, or the handle to pop up the trailer, or maybe one of the pop out sections wasn't coming out correctly. Everything had to be perfect, or Dad would spend an eternity fixing it.

Being a six year old, I was not allowed to leave the camp site as we set up. God forbid I would ask Dad a question and he would remind me why I shouldn't bother him. Not a violent man just angry. It was my Mom's job to take care of me. Dad had a job. I wasn't allowed to make him do any work taking care of me. He never did, believe me. That was okay by me, my last foster father spanked me just about every day. It was fine with me if he wanted to stay out of it. The man had absolutely no patience for me. So my job was to be tolerant and be patient because no-one else would be. I had been beaten enough times in my life to know when to stay small.

We made it to Disney and I went on a couple of rides. I liked the flying elephants but, I couldn't get anyone to wait on line with me so consequently I saw a lot of shows. At the campground, which was a state park; they had free state concerts. My sisters were real excited because Jim Croce was having free concerts at the camp ground outdoor amphitheater. Three days in a row. The thing with a free concert, as I soon found out; was you had to get there early if you wanted good seats. Well my sisters wanted front row. They asked mom if they could go early to save seats my Mom said yes, but the only catch was they had to take little Billy. We arrived around one o'clock in the afternoon for a nine o'clock show.

My sisters found out quickly that I could sit with coats, blankets, purses, and anything that could save a seat. There I sat, I didn't mind. I loved my sister Kathy. She was blonde with blue eyes, very athletic and just about the sweetest thing anyone could imagine. I would have done anything for her. It was kind of cool because around four-thirty Jim Croce would come out on stage to tune his instruments. My sisters and I were usually the only ones sitting there and as I said, my sister was quite attractive in every way so Jim gave my two sisters a lot of attention, which included me, if only in a small way.

When it got to be dark and the music started it was magical. Some ten thousand people crowded to that small outdoor theater to hear Jim Croce. It was worth the wait. My sisters, who had become acquainted with Jim after a day or two of endless waiting, got called on stage to sing with Jim and on the third night I got called up there. I went up to his microphone and sang bad bad Leory Brown baddest man in the whole damn town. I was fine, I forgot the words but, I was only six, so no-one cared. I turned around to look at the audience and I saw what looked like a million people looking at me. I ran off that stage real quick.

I listened to songs like Time In a Bottle, Operator(That's Not The Way It Feels), You Don't Mess Around With Jim and many others. His music was down to earth and his lyrics were like poetry. I fell in love with him and his music like only a six year old boy could. Even at six I had been through a lot. The loss of both parents and a brother and a foster family. I Identified with his pain and his suffering. I loved it.

Well, the vacation ended and we headed back to Long Island New York in our yellow station wagon and our pop up trailer. We retraced our steps and stayed at the same campgrounds. Even this was a tragedy for this six year old who had already been through two families and was on my third. When I got home I got some really sad news. Well, that beautiful man Jim Croce had decided to break his contract with the parks department and fly back to New York to start a concert tour that wouldn't be free. Only his plane crashed on the way and he died. My sister Kathy broke the news to me. She was crying hysterically. I didn't cry. I didn't know what to do.
I guess his bottle ran out of time.

Author Notes I dedicate this story to my old friend Jim Croce died September 20, 1973. He was thirty years old. You wont find a lot of dialogue because this happened so long ago but the details are factual the best I can remember.


Chapter 18
My Baby's Shell

By keimosobie

please don't break my baby's shell
please don't cast me into hell

why can't you see we are all one
we are all equal under the sun
you murder one, we all come undone

your life is not more important than mine
every life has a feeling sublime

Jesus says we know not what we do
I'm here to tell you that it's true
but Satan's fire still burns for you

you want god to save your soul
but Satan wants to devour you whole

so go ahead and make your choice
but I give the baby voice
give him the life you rejoice

don't give up the life, you choose
it's your own soul you will lose
















Author Notes Take note.


Chapter 19
Little Billy Joins The Army.

By keimosobie

A friend told me I should add this story to my book. She read all my stories and has encouraged me a lot so here it goes.

As a teenager I wasn't very sure of myself and my abilities. Didn't feel I would make it in college so I joined the Army. I had just turned 17 when I enlisted. Back in 1985 you could do that with parental consent. My mother wanted me to go to college and she was a little disappointed but she signed and I enlisted. Just in case anyone is thinking about enlisting or no anyone thinking about enlisting this is how they get you.

First they get you up at 500am. You drive to Fort Hamilton. You take a three hour entrance Exam. Then a 5 hour physical. Then you go to your career placement specialist. Let me tell you they can make the worst job look good.
For example I got to choose my job from a list of about 10 career choices.
They list jobs no one in their right mind would want. eleven Bravo Infantry.
Motor man. Tanker. Then they throw something like petroleum supply specialist at you. Hmm what's that about you say. They show you a video of these 50,000 gallon fuel storage tanks and they show you fuel pipelines and they show you helicopters being refueled. Sounds interesting right. So I signed up. Only after completing my training and when I was assigned to my duty station did I realize what I had done. My duty sergeant said, "This one is your gas pump."
Yes I enlisted in the Army to pump gas.

Any way that's not what this story is about. It's about basic training. When I enlisted in 1985 there was a huge enrollment into the military. When you first enlist you go to a three day in processing stay over. They give you your uniforms and equipment and you get your haircut. I remember my first night in the Army. After a long day of travel and processing we got to bed around 11pm.
Around 4:00 am I was jolted awake by a loud banging sound and screaming get out of bed you maggots. I jumped out of bed and was standing on the floor before I became fully awake. Someone had thrown a metal garbage can down the middle Isle which made a terrifying sound. After three days of being woken up like this I found out it was my fellow recruits throwing the garbage cans thinking it was funny.

When I finally got to where I was going to be stationed and meet my drill sergeant I was tired and my nerves where shot. How I met my drill instructor was not good either. They called off our last names and we were supposed to get in line. When they got to my name instead of Dodd they said Do Do. I didn't think they meant me so I didn't go.

Well that was a mistake. See we were all in a line and we began filing into this big room where we all had to cram into and sit on the floor close to one another so we could all fit. We were supposed to be in alphabetical order and now they had all ready began sitting and I was not in the order. I had to explain to the drill sergeant why I was not in the line. It didn't go well.


Chapter 20
Your grace.

By keimosobie

embers that burn into ash
the fire dosen't stop as long as it's fed

The love that lit the fire
that burns deep within me

I am not louder then
the music that surrounds me

eyes blue as the deepest sea
dare not look for eternity

 a soul as sweet as the ripest fruit
 my fingers I pick and strum the lute

it is madness to look into the abyss
your sweet lips do tremble and kiss

it's not you that I love
it's my love, that I give to you

anger that turns into sadness
for what surrounds us is madness

waiting for my fire to go out
passing it along as I go


Chapter 21
My faith in Jesus.

By keimosobie

All I have is my faith.
The candle that burns,
Through the coldest night.
The warmth of my soul,
is my faith.
When my faith fails.
I fail.
When I let the fear,
take over control.
Sadness starts to seep,
into my bones.
The faith starts to slip away.
Sometimes I can't find it.
I loose it.
But I can't live without.
So I muster up my courage.
I pick it up like a shield,
and I go forward.
Forever forward.

Author Notes Photo is a memorial for flight 800 that crashed in my town.


Chapter 22
Behind Deaths Door.

By keimosobie

Between two doors I have been stuck.
The door of life was open with luck.
Flower's of death I will to pluck.

So much is there to have to lose.
It's not the door that I would choose.
Behind the door could be bad news.

It is the world that's on a tilt.
To watch the old wither and wilt.
I strain to see what God has built.

Shadows of death cover me dear.
For what is there for me to fear?
Go through the door that is so near.

For love and life is just a lie.
Ribbons of life are to untie.
Open the door and I will die.

Author Notes Thank you theimagecollector for the use of the photo.


Chapter 23
Loves Orbit.

By keimosobie




The earth holds the moon in its love embrace.
The sun holds the earth through time and space.
The universe is flying at a maddening pace.
It's all held together through gods grace.

The Milky Way is a miles away.
Through the distance our love does play

Love holds not to night and day.
Shinning through like a hope of ray.

Everything is in place.
Moving at it's preordained pace

Love is like a magic lace.
Looming into view without a trace.

Like the love between you and me.
For the rest of eternity.

Space is an endless sea.
Held together by loves gravity.

Every movement the machine does click.
Spinning together its not a trick.

Love burns eternal on a weavers wick.
Hope for the hungry and healer to the sick.



Author Notes To my wife Christine.


Chapter 24
If I Lose.

By keimosobie




Against Iron bars my soul does rage.
The world that surrounds me is my cage.
And my pen is pressing me against this page.
My time bleeds away as I age.

My voice can lend no longer to song.
The space grows smaller where I belong.
Condemned for eternity for what I've done wrong.
I turn to face the angry throng.

I ask them to show me what I've done?
To show me where, it has begun.
When life was easy? When I was young?
Before, by the devil I had been stung.

I beg you for pardon for what's to come.
I pray to God in a relentless hum.
Mercy, mercy, mercy, some.
My hopes are done, my body numb.

As I stand before the fiery pit.
In the devils face I will spit.
If this is the end of it?
Then it's in hell I will sit.

Author Notes Lets hope this is not it.thank you to dolphin0108 for the use of the photo.


Chapter 25
Silk Roses

By keimosobie

sitting here in solitude
sifting through the multitude

I see what lies on open pages
imaginations up on stages

pretty women in all kinds of poses
what they feel one supposes
or what my mind super imposes

or has her spirit created a link
I'm not sure what I think

I feel so much about pretty girls in lots of poses
are they real or like silk roses

is this beauty for my heart to steal
or something I created and then made real

Is it their love that I zeal
or just my love that I feel

theres one more thing before the curtain closes
it's only for me or what I suppose is

Author Notes I hope you enjoy. Thank you to sweet linda for the use of the photo.


Chapter 26
A moment frozen in time.

By keimosobie

A breezy summers day.
Precocious little boy.
Swinging from your vines.
The joys of childhood.


Author Notes Thank you to jgrace for the use of the excellent art work.


Chapter 27
Little billy joins the Army. Part B

By keimosobie

We were broken up into different companies and then platoons. It seems our company had buildings for three platoons, but because of the influx of new recruits we had to make a fourth platoon. I was in the fourth platoon. We were called the fucked up forth platoon. We had to make our barracks in some old airplane hangers about a half mile away from the rest of the company. They were full of dust and looked like they hadn't been used since the early 70's. Many hands make light work and we had the place spit shined in no time. We had two hangers with two rows of bunk beds in each hanger. The drill sergeant told us where we would bunk not knowing he had a hidden motive. We were told to move the wall lockers 3 feet from the wall and this made a wall with three feet of space behind them. This seemed like a waste of space, but again there was a hidden motive. My training seemed normal enough and I was pretty oblivious to what was happening around me. I was just trying to make it through.

Here is where things get weird. One day my drill instructor asked me, "How old are you private?"

I replied, "Seventeen."

"Oh you're jail bait" he replied.

I wasn't sure what he was talking about. It just didn't compute. I'm a guy how could I be jail bait.

Even though I was oblivious and in a constant state of nervousness induced by basic training I began to notice a pattern. About 10 minutes after lights out drill sergeant would come around. He would flash his flashlight through the dark and behind the wall lockers and he would catch some soldiers behind them.

I guess I was naive because I never even thought to myself what were they doing behind the wall lockers. Then I began to notice another pattern. On Sunday mornings after our shower drill sergeant would call some private into his office, usually not dressed from the shower yet. Not sure what was happening and frankly not caring cause I had enough to worry about. Then Shilo the private in the bunk next to me got caught behind the wall locker. He was a young looking white kid. Very similar to my looks. He was kind of girlish looking. I had noticed that some of the males of the platoon were attracted to him and me. Like when we were doing calisthenics early one morning and drill sergeant told us to swing our hips around to stretch and some of the guys started groaning and whistling. Gross right. Well anyway Shilo got called into drill sergeants office after his shower the next Sunday. Then when I was in church I was sitting next to Shilo and he was crying. Me not knowing what was happening tried to comfort him. I told him we all miss our families and it's not so bad.

He replied ," You mean you don't know?"

"know what?" I replied.

He never answered but he got real angry at me. From that point on I became the focus of his anger. From that point on I was on every shit detail that there was. Poor Shilo never got a brake from drill sergeant after that. Seems he was the most attractive choice the drill sergeant had for Sunday shower activity. Shilo needed me to take over. I was the only one the drill instructor was interested in.

Author Notes stay tuned for part three.


Chapter 28
Even God is lonely.

By keimosobie

Loneliness is an empty home that was once full
A holiday that's just a day when no one calls your name
A soul cut adrift at sea, when you're left with memories
Of all that once was and what could have been
The things never had, but always wished for
Time marches on driving all into desolation
To our solitary grave
Buried with hopes and dreams that never came to be
Loneliness is an old blind women in a wheel chair
Waiting her life away
Completely forgotten, nobody comes
Softly she sings her mother's lullaby
She cries an endless river of tears
Landing into the empty vacuum of space
Slowly dissolving into oblivion
Even God is lonely

Author Notes Happy holidays. Remember the lonely.


Chapter 29
Jealousy!!

By keimosobie

The bed was empty. I sat in the quiet room contemplating the events of the night before. The image of you lying on the bed. Your auburn hair spilled casually around your head. The way your essence filled the room with a hush. Like a silent snow fall in the woods, each snowflake tenderly touching the earth blanketing it. The way your love had blanketed me a thousand times before simple and pure. I can see your body groan, the way you breathe, sucking in the electric charged air, quietly through parted lips. The way you tussle about as if you would crawl out of your skin.

You must know my heart aches for you. When everyone and everything on this earth has let me down you are the one thing I could hold on to. To cherish more then life itself. The one thing I believe in. As I sit and look at our empty bed I dare not get in it less it consumes me. I listen to the wind blow through the tall oak outside our window. The leaves dance about telling me they understand. The moon shines light through the window and I am lost. Frozen in this chair. I know not where to go. The memory of yesterday is so clear it's like you're still there only this time I long to see you.

To say it did not matter is only to deny our love. It did matter; it meant everything. I suspected for some time. The way you would speak to me. So hurtful. Denying that you ever loved me. You denied that there was someone else, but I had to be sure. The pain and fear that gripped me every time you came home late. Knowing you were angry with me no matter how hard I tried to make you happy. I was searching for the clues to put the puzzle together, but there were too many pieces missing.

Then there was the convention in Philadelphia that we were supposed to go to together. You started a fight with me over the laundry and refused to go with me for the weekend so I had to go alone. I called you at home Friday night from the convention hotel lobby, but there was no answer. I wondered what you, my wife could be doing.

I was sick to my stomach with fear. I left the convention and rented a car and drove the six hours from Philadelphia to our home on Suffolk, Long Island. I was sure that it was my imagination. I do let it get the best of me from time to time. I got to our house around 4am.

I drove by the house once. All the lights were out except a dim light in our bedroom window upstairs. Only your car in the driveway. I felt foolish. I wondered, Should I go in? I did not want you to know how crazy and jealous I was, driving here in the middle of the night. You would say I was a jealous fool. I decided to drive back to Philadelphia and never tell you that I got so jealous. I did not get far from you when a voice inside me told me to turn around. I had to see your face. I still did not want you to know how crazy and jealous I was, so I parked up the street. I let myself in the backdoor away from the stairs so you would not hear me. Thinking you were probably fast asleep I crept through the house. As I got closer I could hear you with someone else. Faintly at first then louder. Moaning and heavy breathing the every noise I heard was pure torment to me.

I crept up the stairs afraid to go in. Afraid to realize what I had subconsciously known all the time. I opened the door and stood for a moment. I could only focus on you. You were so beautiful. I raised the double barreled shot gun and aimed it at you. Thankfully you never opened your eyes.

Author Notes First attempt at fiction.


Chapter 30
Love, eternity and remembering.

By keimosobie


Every morning's hope.
Like my footprints in the dew dampened grass.
With the moisture touching my bare feet
And the warm blanket touching my back and shoulders.
The morning sun on my face brings tears to my eyes.
The sheer happiness of hope for the new day.
With the mist hovering over the mountains.
Feeling everything all at once.
Knowing the reason for being is here in my heart.
Carrying the sadness we hold inside.
I say to all who know me good-bye.
All the pain, all the joy, all the things I remember,
They are yours now.
Do with them as you will, as I did.
I loved life, every morsel, every taste.
My beautiful children, their tiny faces, the love in their hearts.
My wife, my love, I have no regrets.
Peace to you all.

Author Notes wow. difficult to write. Like a suicide note. But I don't need this yet. I hope I don't anyway. Thank you cammy Cards for the awesome art.


Chapter 31
My Nightmare.

By keimosobie
















My story begins on a cool Autumn day. Not a typical day for me as on this day I actually had friends to play with. All kids from the neighborhood came to the wooded lot next to my house to play.

There was Michael, a year younger than I at eight, and his sister, Barbara, who was around my sister's age, six. Although their back yard was attached to mine, we weren't close. Then there was Adam, my closest friend, plus three or four more kids playing that day from around the neighborhood. We were all having a good time playing hide and seek.

I never had a lot of friends growing up. I guess I was fundamentally flawed. I don't know if it was the fact that my mother was only fifteen when she had me and that she raised me for three years by herself with the money she got from the government.

No not welfare, but life insurance from the U.S. Marines. You see while my mother was five months pregnant with me, Dad was killed in Vietnam. I was born soon after and my mother cried on my shoulder. I was her little teddy bear to comfort her through the cold and lonely nights.

My mother poured her pain and sadness into me, and I soaked it all up like a sponge. Then at the tender age of three, the life insurance money ran out and Mom met a man who didn't want kids. I was sent to a foster home stored away like the book "Flowers in the Attic."

Now fatherless and motherless, I was sent to a foster home where I was abused physically and mentally daily. Only thing I can say about my foster father is he was afflicted with a demonstrative sickness........

Well I got out of jail there two years later and went to another foster home.
My new mother had just lost an eight year old girl whom she had been caring for the last five years. She had been hurt badly by this. I think it was a car accident or something. She was older and had no love left to give.

I was lonely and friendless there. Then came the opportunity to be adopted and I went to another home at age seven. Yes I had been bounced around a great deal and I was emotionally scarred as well. At this point I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by life. I wasn't capable of giving much and my parents were not the understanding type.

That pretty much gets me to where we are now. We were playing in the wooded lot next to my home. Adam had discovered that he could hide himself underground. With a little help from a friend you could dig a hole and bury yourself and breathe through these hollow wooden reed type things that grew nearby.

At such a young age you don't realize how dangerous such things could be. I helped him dig the hole and talked to Adam. I asked him why he wanted to bury himself he said he liked it under there. I said he shouldn't do it. Something was telling me this wasn't a good idea. I told him I didn't have any friends because of the life that I had and he promised to be my friend my very best friend.

His last words to me were, "Just don't forget me."

"Don't worry, I won't", I said.

Soon after I covered the tracts by jumping up and down on top of the dirt packing it down so it looked like the rest of the dirt on the beaten path.

I was picked to be it and soon forgot all about Adam and his hiding place.
Our game of hide and go seek was combined with tag so you had to find them and then catch them. I was pretty slow and I couldn't catch anybody so I was perpetually it.

I don't know how much time had passed when Adam's mom showed up looking for her son.

I can still remember the fear in her eyes as she asked me, "Adam was supposed to come home for lunch an hour ago. Do you know where he is?"

I thought about it for a second. How could I tell this panic stricken woman that I buried her son then forgot all about him and then try to explain he was safely breathing through a hollow wooden tube. I quickly devised a plan.

"No I haven't seen him", I said.

But she didn't believe me.

"Was he here?" she asked.

"Yes", I said.

"Where were you playing?", she asked.

"Over there by the fence", I said.

"Take me to where you were playing."

I did as she asked.

"What were you guys doing?"

"Digging in the dirt", I said

As she stood over the shallow hiding place I wondered if she could possibly guess that I had buried him where she stood....

She did not.

My plan was simple if not very cowardly. I would dig him up after she left and make sure he was all right. Then let him go home to his mom.

I watched her walk away and it appeared as though she was sobbing uncontrollably, but I couldn't tell from behind.

Then the kids I was playing with asked me why I had lied?

"I didn't lie", I said.

At that age, I guess you don't realize that omitting something is as bad as telling a lie.

Barbara, the young girl of six or seven said, "No he got out. I saw him."
What Barbra probably didn't know is that he had used the being buried a few times that day and had reemerged once and then been reburied again and she didn't know.

"Where is he now then?" I asked.

"He must have gone home." She said.

That convinced my friends that I hadn't lied, but I still wasn't sure.

"Maybe he's still buried. Can you guys help me check and make sure he isn't?" I asked.

What happened next surprised me. I was thinking they would want to make sure no harm would come to Adam and help me check.

"No", they said.
Guess they didn't want any part of it. Can't say I blame them looking back now.

Well I went over to the spot and started digging, but he wasn't there, so I assumed Barbara was correct and he had gotten out and when his mom got home, she was relieved to find him there. What I didn't know at this time was that I was looking in the wrong place.

I wish I could say the story ended there. It would have ended sooner if I had told the truth.

Soon it started to rain. We all headed to our perspective homes to seek shelter from the storm. It was thundering and lighting something fierce. My little sister knew something was amiss. She is extremely bright.

She stood in the back corner of the house by the window facing the wooded lot.
The wind, thunder and lightning roared. Her screams pierced the daytime sky and turned it into night. She stood with fear and trembling somehow knowing the fury of the Lord was about. I remember giving her a hug and telling her it was alright.

Later after the storm dissipated I went outside. I had so much fun earlier that I didn't give any thought to Adam. Like I said earlier I never had any friends. I was anxious to rekindle the day and I went to asked Michael, the boy in the house behind me; if he wanted to come out to play.

He came out to play and we went over to the vacant lot. There were many of those hollow wooden tubes around and Michael began pulling them out of the ground. Instinctively I told him not to. He continued any way. He finally set upon one that he couldn't pull out of the ground. He pulled and pulled we couldn't free it. That was strange we thought. Michael then went over and found a fresh plant with the hollow tube and pulled it out of the ground root and all.

He questioned this and I explained to him how we used the hollow sticks to breath when we were hiding underground.

"Want to dig and see if anyone's here?" I asked.

Seemed like a crazy question.

Michael said, "No."

Michael then quickly grabbed the stick and it came free quite easily.
We stood there looking at the stick in amazement. One minute both of us pulling on it couldn't free the stick, the next it slid right out with almost no effort. Hard to believe we could be so stupid. When we looked down at the path we could see the ground had cracked a little. I thought it was from pulling on the stick.

Then came the bone chilling scream. I thought it came from the distance.

Did you hear that?" Michael said.

"Yes. It sounded like it came from over there." I said. I pointed off in the distance through the woods."

Michael just gave me a terrified look and ran all the way home.

Well I forgot about Adam after that. I didn't realize what had happened at the time, and I'm not sure if Michael did either.

About six months later they began clearing the lot next door to build a house.
The bull dozer uncovered something and I was in the back yard playing. I could see the horrific look on the machine operator's face. I was in the back yard playing so he was quiet about what he had found. I hadn't put two and two together at this point.

Later the next day when the family had returned from the store a policeman came to question my father and took him over in that direction. He came back quickly and I could hear him say he didn't know anything about it. Than my Dad gave me a puzzled look,
"Oh well", he said.

Later I saw all the police line fencing off the area. I didn't know what to make of it.

A Year later, on a warm spring day; I took a walk over to Adam's house. After all hadn't Adam promised to be my very best friend? I knocked on the door completely unaware at least on a conscious level what had happened to Adam. His Mom was vacuuming the stairs and I could see a baby in a walker in the background.

"Can Adam come out to play?" I asked.

Her first reaction was anger.

"Do you think that's funny? Who put you up to this?", she asked. As she opened the door and look around outside to find perspective hidden children waiting to get a rise out of a vulnerable women.

"No. I was just hoping Adam could come out to play", I said. As I glanced up the stairs that were directly behind her hoping to see Adam bounding down them.
She looked behind her at the stairs to look where I was looking and she instinctively knew what I was hoping to see. She immediately burst into uncontrollable tears.

Her husband came in from the next room and immediately gave her a hug and began comforting her. Looking back now they must have really been in love to withstand something like that.

"Look we have this beautiful baby now", he said.

"I know. I could just see Adam running down the stairs to go out and play", she said.

The husband broke off the embrace and turned towards me.

"What's wrong?", I asked.

"Adam ran away." he said.

I asked a lot of questions. I tried to offer solutions.

"Maybe he's at a friend's. Did he pack a bag?" I asked.

Then all at once I became a suspect.

Adam's mom came toward the door. She was hysterical again.

"I talked to you that day and I knew you were lying."

Her husband pulled her away and they talked in a whisper.

"I knew he was lying", she said again.

The husband came to the door.

"Adam is missing and we think you have something to do with it."

"I didn't help him run away", I said. Not knowing in the few minutes that I had been standing at the door that they had come to terms with accepting the fact that there son had not run away, but had been buried alive and that I had something to do with it.

"You had better leave", he said.

I did just that. I was now more confused than ever.

I have the best Mom ever as far as understanding stuff. I told her what had happened and that Adam's parents has accused me of helping him run away.

"Did you help him run away?"

"No", I said.

"Then don't worry about it."

I didn't worry either. Moms can protect their children and she always has. Come hell or high water she has.

Later that night my Dad's business phone was ringing and I answered it.

It was her. The women who, at this point wanted me to burn in hell for all of eternity. I'm sure that when I die she will be waiting for just that.

She wanted to speak to my mother. Why is it when you're a child, no matter what you do on this earth, they want to speak to your mother? With all the things I've done that she knows about. How could she still love me?, but she does. For that there can be no doubt.

I only listened to one side of the conversation. I only remember my mother saying.

"Because, I know he wouldn't do that."

Then I think Adam's mother said,

"You better hope he didn't, because if he did, I will be waiting for eternity for justice." at this point my mother burst into tears and slammed the phone down several times. I think she realized that I was at fault to some degree, but she knew my heart and knew I was not capable of cold blooded murder. She also knew I was capable of extreme stupidity.

My mother told me never to go to Adam's house again and she never again spoke to me about it. I did go there a few more times. They answered the door, but never really said anything. Most times they didn't answer at all.

I guess the obvious question is how did I discover what had happened. Since my mother left me when I was three and I loved her very deeply so I spent a lot of time looking back. I was always trying to remember, to recapture the past and love lost, an insane amount of time. That constant behavior kind of trains your mind to look back all the time.
I was constantly re-evaluating past events.

I asked myself many times if this really happened. I believe it did. I'm well aware it could be a fixed delusion. I will leave it for you to decide. Welcome to, "My Nightmare."

God forgive me, if this is true.
Here is a Villanelle I wrote about this event. Called" Twisted Faces".

Twisted faces in hiding places.
Listen to sound of the screaming ground.
Rain poured down and washed all traces.

Reality's paces tie imagination's laces.
Mother's tears surround as they fall down.
Twisted faces in hiding places.

Buried in  stack's of cold cases.
Were I caught he would have been found
Rain poured down and washed all traces.

Now I'm not in God's good graces.
Fear overwhelms my heart all 'round.
Twisted faces in hiding places.

Children fit in very small spaces.
I can't go back from lies I'm bound.
Rain poured down washed all traces.

I somehow covered all my bases.
Mother's great prince could have been crowned.
Twisted faces in hiding places.
Rain poured down and washed  all traces.

Author Notes This is a chapter in the book the English assignment which I haven't written yet. The story is true the names have been changed to protect the innocent.


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