Thief-by Susan Thomas

There was a time
You were my friend
A time I held your hand
A time I gave you my heart
It was a leap of faith
To trust you
With something so dear
Thought things were great
Your company
Made the prison of school
Actually bearable
Someone whispered petty rumors
In your ear
You built a wall
To keep me out
Took my heart
And stomped on it
You were eager to believe
Rumors so cruel
That they couldn't be true
Suddenly there was a hate
You played judge and jury
Deciding my suffering should be great
You stole my trust
Left me with doubt
My mind consumed with despair
I now cried myself to sleep
Thoughts of suicide
My blanket of comfort
You stole my happiness
And made misery the norm.

Memories-by Susan Thomas

playin in the sun
makin bouquets of dandelions
was the thing to do
all from the yard covered in yellow
with only hints of green
from the stalk
that holds the yellow

building forts on the island
our own little getaway
no harm reaches us here
no rules to abide
no parents to ruin the fun

riding our bikes carelessly
just to feel the wind
slap us in the face
as we pedal faster
on the pothole covered street
hoping it will make us fly

we whisper and squeal in delight
as we enter Nemo's yard
looking for ghosts
and buried secrets
finally using the passage only we know

these times have faded with time
we are grown
no longer hunting ghosts
responsibility upon our shoulders
so we leave it
to our little ones
to pick up where we left off

Our Dear Monster-By Susan Thomas

Playful and fun
singing and dancing
making children squeal in delight
teaching manners
singing the alphabet
with the other monsters
exciting children worldwide
making waiting fun
having friends now an adventure
vegetables now something to explore
children learn in musical style
never knowing their dear monster
is just another teacher
his googly eyes
wild blue fur
and a sweet tooth
make him oh so lovable
shoving a cookie
in his mouth
shouting om num num
is what the children wait for
as the children grow
they forget their dear monster
until the fateful day
when a little one
they call their own
finds the dear monster
with a sweet tooth
then parent and child
watch the dear teacher together
and wait for the monster
to find a cookie
and shout
om num num

Secret-By Susan Thomas

It's always there
lurking in the deep
confined to the dark
locked up
walled up
in the depths
that I dare not venture
It yells out
tries to be heard
all I hear is
a faint whisper
when it  was
off its leash
crimson was its favorite color
when it was free
it liked to hunt
when it could influence
we planned dark things
now it screams
wanting company once more
it is stuck
trapped
in the void
it hasn't much hope
it's voice falls on deaf ears
but it knows
that life is full
of troubles
it waits
for life to become hard
for me to give up
and unlock the door
tear down the walls
and let it soak in the sun
once more
it never looses hope
but I know
I have strength
and support
that dark wicked thing
will never be free once more

Incubator- by Susan Thomas

It wasn't her fault.
It wasn't planned.
An atrocious crime...
planted a seed,
that would slowly grow.

Already ripe with despair.
Overcome with shame,
she begins to weigh her options.
The thing inside...
is a reminder of her shame.
She wants it gone.
She wants to rip it from her.

She kept silent,
as long as possible.
Terrified of the procedure,
she seeks a comforting hand.
She tells those closest to heart.
Shaking with fear.
Shaking with shame.

Those she loves forget...
forget she has feelings.
She's nothing but an incubator now.
They don't offer what she needs.

They condemn her.
Blame her.
Call her monster.
Call her murderer.
She's going to burn in hell.

Inside the last bit of her,
that survived the evil...
shatters.
She takes back her words.
Paints a smile on her face.

Carrying the unborn seed.
Each passing moment.
Each passing day.
Each passing month.
Darkness grows.
Sanity fades.

No healing can commence,
with a swollen stomach,
to remind her of...
her shame,
her despair,
her growing hate.

She hates herself.
She hates what's inside.
She hates the world.
Her hate grows strong.

Overwhelmed with shame,
despair,
and hate.
Seeing no way out.
No light at the end of the tunnel.
She takes a gun.
Two shots ring out.
A hole in the stomach.
A hole in the head.

She lay dead.
The unborn seed never to see day.
All she needed,
was a loving hand.
All she needed,
was support.

She received none.
She received judgement,
and cruelty.
Now a life is gone,
and no one cares.

You say I say-by Susan Thomas

You say God is dead.

I say He is alive.

You say science is the explanation.

I say science and god complete each other.

You say his existence cannot be proven.

I say it is not possible to prove he doesn’t.

You say the church brainwashed me.

I say you don’t understand church.

Church is a place of support and acceptance.

It gives you a choice.

I simply chose to believe what they said.

You say prayer is a public threat.

I say why are you afraid?

You say Christian media somehow is offensive.

I ask why does it scare you?

Why do you protest,

if you don’t believe.

Why does our choice of entertainment,

or personal belief offend you so?

A book about atheism,

does not bother me.

You spouting your nonbelief,

on your precious mountain top,

does not bother me.

If what you see offends…

don’t look.

If what you hear offends…

don’t listen.

If  a person offends…

don’t pay them attention.

I respect your choice of nonbelief.

Can you respect my choice to believe,

as a simple courtesy.

Stop throwing your words at me,

and tune out the posers…

who give people with a religion a bad name.

You say my religion is full of hate.

You point at gay protests and times in history,

as your concrete proof.

I say since when does media portray the truth?

Media refuses to show the Christian…

shaking their fist in fury,

at such hateful posers.

I believe in love.

I embrace the gay and oppressed.

I believe in grace.

I know God embraces all.

I believe in forgiveness.

My sins are no better than yours.

You say you had a bad experience.

I would kindly remind you,

that I am not them.

I remind you…

all have committed the atrocious crime…

of doing great harm…

with the best of intentions…

unaware of the destruction in our wake.

My belief is a choice.

My belief is a way of life.

A gift…

that is hard to grasp.

Which is why I suppose,

so many reject it.

You know what I believe.

You know its high standards.

I try my best,

but remain human.

I am sorry to say,

I will never reach perfect.

I will never be pure.

I ask you judge me…

not on my failures,

but on what I did right.

I ask you judge me,

and not the stereotype,

you cling to so tightly.

I am me.

I am unique.

Not a cut out,

meant to fit your idea,

of what is Christian.

Nightmare

Strapped down
Tied down
Forced down
Held down
Legs spread
Access open
Resistance
Not an option
Fingers touching
Insides churning
Try to scream
Try to escape
Can't move
Silence surrounds
my lips
Laughter echoes
My spirit shrivels
my passion disappears
hope is lost
Then a beeping
Eyes open
Relief floods my system
Thank god
All was a dream

Could Have- by Susan Thomas

If I had gone with that girl
to the railroad tracks
I could have been an addict
If I had let the knife slide
across my fragile skin
I could have died
If I had gone to tryouts
and done a cartwheel
I could have been a cheerleader
If I had stood up for myself
and quit that lousy job sooner
I could have been working on my master's
not a bachelor's
If I had gone home
with that guy
I could have been slut
I could have been a lot of things
I could have done a lot of things
but I made my choices
and am what I am
and have done what I have done