A Very Unhappy BIrthday-By Susan Thomas

December is on the horizon.
A chill in the air.
Christmas Carols, Decorations, and Good Cheer
are on everyone's lips.
In the distance,
we all begin to sense...the coming of a new year.
All begin to think,
of the wondrous party,
an excuse to stay up late,
to kiss a handsome stranger.
Everyone's hearts are merry,
except my own.
As the last day of the year
     draws near,
I wish the holiday to hasten.
I wish December to disappear,
without a trace.
Leaving my birthday,
unmarked,
uncelebrated.
Leaving me alone,
and not robbing me of joy.
My birthday,
that is the buzzkill of any party.
As a child,
it may have been grand,
but as years passed,
and wisdom grew
it was plain to see...that my birthday,
was naught but an incovienence.
The huge party's that night,
were never for me.
The cake
presents
birthday wishes
all just an after thought.
Something to get out of the way,
so the merry party...could continue.
Always,
having to wait,
to celebrate what should be a happy day.
My birthday,
such an inconvience,
that it simply,
can't be celebrated on its own.
So I say
let the day go unmarked.
Let it pass,
with no birthday wishes.
Forget about me
go to your parties.
Perhaps if for once,
all just forgot,
then maybe just once
on my birthday,
I could be happy.
Not have my joy stolen,
as the reminder
that I'm second rate,
to the coming new year
is joyfully shoved in my face
over
and
over.
Leave me be.
No birthday wishes please.
Let me keep my joy
as you celebrate the new year.
All I wish for,
if you truly care,
is a quiet evening home.
Where the only hints of birthday,
come from a joyful son
and loving husband.
Who stay in,
and let me feel special,
when often I am made to feel
like an afterthought.
Leave the well wishes
to my husband, son, and unborn daughter.
If you must wish me happiness,
then wish me a happy new year.
But please for the sake of my happiness,
forget my birthday.

Beautiful-By Susan Thomas

My hair
is beautiful because
it is full and thick
My eyes
are beautiful because
they are the only part of me
that hints at my Asian descent
My nose
is beautiful because
it fits my face just right
My cheeks
are beautiful because
they are round
and perfect for my husband to kiss
My lips
are beautiful because
they are full
My neck
is beautiful because
it is long and elegant
My chest
is beautiful because
it reminds me
of the son and soon to be daughter
that rely on me.
My arms
are beautiful because
I use them
to show my love to family and friends
My stomach
is beautiful because
that is where my son grew
and where my daughter grows now
My legs
are beautiful because
they allow me
to play with my son
and take him on walks
My feet
are beautiful because
they carry me everywhere
I am beautiful because
I am loved
and my family calls
me beautiful.

America The Selfish and Greedy-By Susan Thomas

America, a country where all are created equal.
That's the lie,
we tell ourselves, to sleep at night.
Affordable Care Act.
A saving grace for many,
giving the right for all,
to have health insurance.
But hoards of angry citizens
scream of injustice.
The thought of paying
a mere five dollars more
is offensive.
How dare the poor
want health care!
Don't they know,
insurance is for the rich and healthy.
The hoards say:
Screw the cancer survivor,
epliptec
and diabetic.
Who cares that before this act
every insurance company told them no.
The only yes
was for a price
only the 1 percent could afford.

People now demand a livable wage.
Minimum wage,
no longer what it used to be.
The low wage forcing families,
in an unforgiveable
unbreakable cycle of poverty.
The same angry mob screams,
they earn what they deserve.
Never mind the steadily growing
number of college graduates
unable to find a job.
Forced to work a degrading job.
Never mind the single mom,
working three jobs
and still unable to make ends meet.
The angry mob screams
They won't pay the extra nickel.
These workers are lazy,
and deserve what they get.

The angry mob yells again.
To many people getting a hand out.
Take away social security
food stamps
and affordable housing.
Screw the old.
Let them sleep on the street.
How dare they ask,
for the money they earned.
Let the families starve.
Kids don't need to eat.
All should pay for that 2 percent
that abuses the system.
Let that apple
spoil the bunch.
Homeless deserve the street.
Their less than human anyway.
Who cares that one state,
is on track to eliminate homelessness.

We need our guns
the mob screams.
New restrictions rob us of that right.
Never mind the news
that keeps reporting  a new shooting
every week.
We need those assualt weapons.
Our god given right.
We don't care
that a psychopath
can buy a gun
with no problems at all.
Just because they can't see reality.
Just because they have no moral compass.
Doesn't mean they'll kill someone.

Every where I turn,
the mob is screaming and protesting.
Fighting
to keep this country unfair.
Fighting
to keep the poor man in his place.
Fighting
to keep guns in the hands of sociopaths.
Helping the 1 percent
rob the poor
and stuff their piggy banks.
We all speak the lie of equality.
Our actions tell another story.
America
the country where only the rich
healthy and privileged matter.

Depression-By Susan Thomas

It was more than sad
It was an all consuming feeling
A black pit
with no escape
A loneliness so real
that I could feel it in the air
It wasn't something
I couldn't
just get over
It had become
who I was
Everyday was a cloudy day
So often
death seemed to be my way out
the world wouldn't stop spinning
I needed stillness
I needed a moment
a moment that never seemed to come
happiness a fairytale
Still I chose to breathe
even though
breathing was a chore
maybe even a burden to those around
because I chose to breathe
one day
I found a ladder
each rung the darkness faded
just a little
Till one day I found myself in the sun
and breathing with ease
and happiness had become real

Deceiver-By Susan Thomas

People know my name
Devil
Lucifer
Satan
and they think I am fantasy
a silly guy in red
with a pointed tail
and a stupid pitchfork
they laugh
because they don't me
they don't know my work
or see how I work my magic
in their pathetic lives
I am the whisper
that tells you to sleep in today
I am the voice
that tells you to lie
I am the jealousy you feel
I am the coldness in your heart
I am the part that judges and condemns
I am the shame you feel
I am the gossiping voice
I am what makes you boastful of your sin
My name is a joke to so many
nothing but a scary story
This is my great deception
you won't fight me
I am just a fantasy

Pleasant Smiles- By Susan Thomas

Their words cut deep
deep deep into my soul
burned like a fire
trying to devour my independence
my self esteem
any good feeling
that struggled to survive the raging fire
the raging fire of ignornace
and hate they put there
before they came
such words would have rolled off like water
leaving me unaffected
still proud of myself
but these tricksters
were diffrent
they wormed their way in
they had friendly smiles
at the first glance
they called me friend
we talked
became close
then their true face began to show
friendly conversations
turned into cruel whispers
that I could always hear
the glances
the cruel laughter ringing in my ears
they took my words
words to find out why
and twisted them
twisted them into something dark and childish
soon all believed their lie
soon even I believed their lie
I believed I was worthless
ugly
stupid
a waste of space
I begin to think
why stay
their cruelty infected my soul
gave me a disease
took away my smile
and everything good
Soon death
seemed a pleasant option
but God held my hand
kept me from taking that last step
now that I've walked from the darkness
back into the light
he asks me to forgive
and I struggle with this demand
how to forgive those people
who gave that terrible disease
that still lurks deep inside
I know I must forgive
but I don't now how
so I try each day
and each day get one step closer
almost there now
but still not quite there
I look forward to the day
I can finally let go
of all the hurt they gave
and finally extinguish that flame
that still desires to devour

Sunday Mask - By Susan Thomas

They do not see me
on the sabbath day
They see the mask I wear
A mask that cannot be removed
I am not allowed to be me
to be me
is an inappropriate action
I am
what they want me to be
This fate was thrust upon me
when my heart I gave
to a man of faith
to a man with a calling
If my mask cracks or slips
me
the real me
may be set fee
for but a moment
on the holy day
where judging eyes will see
My person held to a standard
a higher standard than most
if I do wrong
in their eyes
sure it is me to blame
but more so
my husband to blame
To be me
would bring harsh judgement
upon the man
I gave my heart
Even if the real me
is just like you
or anyone there
I have to be better
I have to be an example
The real me
just won't do
So every week
I shoulder a burden
wear a mask
to be what they want me to be
hoping and praying
each time the mask will not slip
because it is not me they want
I am the me
they want me to be
I count the minutes
each sabbath day
to the moment
where I can be free
away from judging eyes
free to be me
free to be the me
that my man of faith
loves

so much
to be the me
that our family needs