Every time you watch the news, you realize how lucky you are. We have a home, family, friends. Yet, sometimes we all hate our lives. But why? It makes me feel guilty when I complain about some messed up relationship or some little misfortune that comes my way. Then I realize how lucky I am and all these obstacles seem so small compared to what many other people have to suffer.

I'm strongly against bombing in Kosovo. I feel the same way about Milosovich. I just don't understand why innocent people on both sides have to suffer from the stupidity of people in power.

I knew this guy who was very special. He had a lot of family problems and he thought that they could be solved by drugs. Drugs drove him to taking his life. I want others to read and absorb these words and realize the true danger of drugs.

First let me say that I am not a frequent poem writer, but with all the pain and violence (domestic especially) going on these days, I searched my notebook of miscellaneous "stuff" thinking it would be a great idea to share with others a bit of my past. You might say it's a poem of abuse, and let me add that I still say; "I would rather be hit because a bruise disappears, but the emotional, verbal, and psychological abuse stays with you forever!"

I wrote this approximately 5 years ago, after a year long relationship that was based on lies and deception and a little illusion. And before that, I was involved for 3 years in a relationship of abusive hell. This poem was written when I couldn't take anymore.

On a happier note, I am now living in paradise, and found a love most only dream about!

This poem is about woman who was stuck in an abusive relationship. Or at least she thought she was stuck. She is very sad and depressed. She does not want to go on like this. She is very scared that if she leaves she will be seriously hurt. She knows that she can't stay but she does not have the courage to leave.

This poem is very personal to me because it is actually about myself.

It saddens me, that every day, children around the world suffer abuse from drunken parents, and at Christmas, a special time for children, parents use it as an excuse to get smashed and then take it out on their children.

This poem was written especially for the children.

Every evening on the news we hear of death and suffering. We can see this in our backyards and alley ways. Children die, beaten by their parents. Life is hard but harder for many. Drive by's and rape, theft and murder. When living in this kind of darkness, where does the light come from? Where do we find the strength?

Dreams have wings, but they are often clipped by the ravages of reality. This poem expresses the weight of the darkness and the longing for the light.