When is the last time I cried?

When was the last time I cried?

It wasn’t when I was in sixth grade,
and I ripped the flesh from my knees
when I crashed my bike going downhill
on broken asphalt.
I cried after that.

It wasn’t junior year of high school
when I thought I knew heartbreak
long before I ever truly understood
what actual love was.
I didn’t think it possible, but I cried after that.

It wasn’t the day I was married,
nor the birth of my children
though I was moved to tears of joy,
and I thought nothing could make me cry again.
Like a bad habit I couldn’t kick,
I would cry after that.

Nor when I fell on a catwalk
and injured my back at a merciless company,
Who fired me to be rid
Of an injured man,
While the pain and degradation was unbearable…
No, I cried after this.

When Was the last time I cried?

It was today.

Today was the last time that I have cried,
when I was told my son’s highest potential
would be a Walmart greeter, or cart gatherer.
That he would be lucky to have a job
that almost everyone else is overqualified for.

Today, I wept.

In the quiet of my office,
in the darkest corner I could find,
I wept until my eyes were dry and burning,
my throat was hoarse from sobbing,
and my lungs felt like they were on fire.
Today, a father wept like a child,
and I do not think I will ever cry again…

Until tomorrow…

…and the days after…
when I wake up,
when I go about my day,
and when I drift off to sleep…
           …thinking only of today.

A Lesson From Covington

Banging his drum, and chanting at the sky,

Like a bastardized version of Moses,
He parted them as he walked in their midst,
In their confusion, they moved to the side.
Having just moments before been attacked
By the self described 'Black Israelites'
For their terrible sin of being white,
They stared at him, not sure how to react.

They parted before him, and he walked on
Till he came across a boy, tall and proud,
Who refused to step back, as had the crowd.
The man beat his drum, the boy smiled on...
Though spat on and cursed, the boy stood his ground.
Giving each other  a defiant stare,
Hatred and anger swirling through the air,
From the crowd of adults now gathered 'round.

The media, doing what it does best,
Portrayed this boy and his friends as villains,
As bigots and racists to the millions
Of it's base who thrive on social unrest.
Blue checks of Twitter, they answered the call:
Threatening the boy with their violence
A grand display of left wing tolerance...
But the truth came out, and outrage was stalled.

Dear reader,  I'm certain with your own eyes
That you've seen what really happened that day:
A boy condemned for not backing away,
Condemnation fueled by media lies.
The lesson from this event is too clear:
When the media comes for you or me,
Let us pray that we should be so lucky
As to have the proof to survive the smear!

Deplorable

Defying the agenda of traitors,
Embracing our traditional ideals
Pushing back on 'America Haters'
Loving the fight, and refusing to yield.
Organizing against the insurgence
Respondong to the call of our nation
Ascending to our great culture's defense
Bowing to none, fight without cessation
Leading the charge to keep our nation free
Enacting new Manifest Destiny.

                                          

A simple question

I am a fool, I'll not deny,
My actions speak louder than words
And all the improvements that I try,
They every one crash hard and burn.
To fault me for the wrong I've done,
With no words for the right I've thought
Ignores the race I've thus far run,
And every last battle I've fought.
And though I'm not a perfect man...
Romantic, proud, and bellicose...
I strive to be the best I can,
Does that not make me more than most?
So then to what must I appeal
To prove to you I'm your ideal?

Focus!

Wake,
Jump up!
Grab my clothes,
Run down the stairs
Into my garage.
There, my weights are waiting
For a 'Clang and bang' session
As Dwayne 'the Rock' Johnson calls it.
My equipment is subpar at best
But I try to make do, and that's what counts.
Every minute I spend lifting today
Is an investment in tomorrow's
Happiness and my confidence,
Making me a better man
Than the one I am now.
Until tomorrow,
I have today.
Make it count:
Focus!
Lift...

A Sonnet.

He dreamt an odd dream, but it was his dream,
And he held it close to his trembling heart.
A great waste of thought, is has come to seem:
He watches as it all tumbles apart
Like a Roman watching it all Collapse,
Hating the  thought of what tomorrow brings...
Then the next, and the next as the days elapse,
Each thought conjuring such horrible things!
And with not a soul with whom to confide,
No sympathetic ear to hear his plight,
He must pretend to take it all in stride,
Lest his countenance should come to indict
To the world his daydreams that now shatter...
Carry on, Lad, like it doesn't matter...

Uncertain

I sit here hundreds of miles away,
Watching the phone praying it doesn't ring,
Terrified at the news that it might bring:
That a great man has passed away.
No news is good news it is always said,
But I dont think it can be applied here.
No information in this case breeds fear
When dealing with a tumor in the head.
With nothing but time, I bow and I pray,
The prayer of a desperate grandson-
That his grandfather's race not yet be done,
As I have done so many times today,
Trying to bargain and negotiate
Any way I can to befriend the Fates....