Believe

Believe the best . Hope for the best . Pray for the best .

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Poem for the sons and daughters ...

We are humbled and guilty for every crumb we take of poor mans' bread or the rare cake Pound or pence money or sense No man lives' free  in a world gone awry Money is not freedom and counting takes time Be not the beggar or the thief Your' talents are enough with God at your' side .
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Some how the perfume lingered It could have been my finger I shouldn't have plugged my hole Shouldn't stick things in your' asshole But I wanted to stop the fart It is no farce when you smell bad So I sat down with neither a smile or a frown Perhaps it was in my pants That's what I have to vent ...
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