Grey Street [dmb]

Oh look at how she listens
She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories
Staring out onto Grey St.
And she thinks...hey
How did I come to this
I dreamed myself thousand times around the world
But I can't get out of this place
There's an emptiness inside her
And she'd do anything to fill it in
But all the colors mix together
To grey, and it breaks her heart

Oh how she wishes it was different
She prays to God most every night
And though she swears He doesn't listen
There's still a hope in her He might
She says I pray
But they falls on deaf ears
Am I supposed to take it on myself
To get out of this place
There's a loneliness inside her
And she'd do anything to fill it in
And though it's red blood bleeding from her now,
It feels like cold blue ice in her heart
When all the colors mix together

It's grey, and it breaks her heart

There's a stranger speaks outside her door
Says take what you can from your dreams
Make them real as anything
It will take the work out of the courage
She says please
There's a crazy man creeping that's outside my door
I live on the corner of Grey Street
And the end of the world

Oh there's an emptiness insider her
And she'd do anything to fill it in
And though it's red blood bleeding from her now
It's more like cold blue ice in her heart
She feels like kicking out all the windows
And setting fire to this life
She could change everything about her
Using colors bold and bright
But all the colors mix together
To grey
And it breaks her heart...Oh and it breaks her heart
To grey, Yeah...

Survivor Psalm

I have been victimized.

I was in a fight that was not a fair fight.

I did not ask for the fight.

I lost.

There is no shame in losing such fights.

I have reached the stage of survivor and am no longer a slave of victim status.

I look back with sadness rather than hate.

I look forward with hope rather than despair.

I may never forget, but I need not constantly remember.

I was a victim.

I am a survivor.

Would you be proud of the things they say?

The Dash

by Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend

He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end

He noted that first came her date of her birth
And spoke the following date with tears,

But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.

And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own;
The cars, the house, the cash,

What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?

For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real

And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more

And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile

Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash

Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

© 1996 All Rights Reserved, Linda Ellis