I free my soul, with joy and without the cold.
no demon nor angel may turn it to coal.
to the one that has become the bold.
you fear and let hate take in.
sometimes it is somthin you can't choose, you think yourself a loss.
but sometimes are own bodies must endure the pain and brush it off.
loosing someone close is hard, shards of tears will fall off your eyes.
you body may feel cold as ice, thinking your world has died.
living in the past make the pain last.
someone told me once that pain is weakness leaving the body.
he now lies buried in six feet, i continue to think of myself weak.
but i now know that i am not weak but strong, all the pain is gone.
if i could reach your hands, i would hold them.
only to let you make your own reality, instead of another tragedy.
my white little flowers will continue to bloom, even as i begin die.
the future generations of man, cannot be left to handle what we began.
today is another day, but the second you have is precious.
hold onto to them like you are collecting the souls of time.
make them mine and yours, do not be lured away and astray.
come and stay with me, so we can let loose the dismay.
just let you control your fate, sometimes we must take what we are given.
life is not a game, it is to our shame to call it such.
i will care for each of you very much.
my little white flowers of freedom and pureity.
chris.....
sometimes we must look back, sometime our reaction has a action of its own. do not ever disclose anyone by their own blood or race. we all have the same blood in our vains and share a common fate.
- christopher wheeler
i will always and forever grandpa.
