Objects in the Mirror

Objects in the mirror, never,
Appear as they seem.
Demented and twisted words
Believed only by the keen.
Faith for the wicked, trusted by the cruel,
Thought they had me covered,
But they're over by the mule.
Every action forward,
Is hindered by the few,
As if in reward
To lay the body strewn.
Conviction and belief in self
Now runs deeper than blood,
Change is the only constant,
Even when covered in mud.
Two steps forward, three steps back,
Will never propel to where it's at.
The distance covered from here to there
Will transform lives just like that.
For better or for worse,
Chanced in cake.
Tolerance vanquished by curse.
To know what's what, and really fake.
Measured words for precise action
Will lay the stage to judge.
To tweak their lives with satisfaction
When nothing has been fudged.
Destiny is for the making
To leaps and bounds ahead.
There is no more looking back
Or else, I might as well be dead.

Donkey on my back!

I trudge through life,
Fumbling, tripping, weighed down,
Unsure of where to take the next step,
With a donkey on my back.

A conscious decision, taken years ago,
To bite me in my ass.
Running away would be far too easy,
But for the donkey on my back.

Look at the bright side
I'm always a step ahead, and
Covered from the rain, but get to see no sunshine
With the donkey on my back.

Tried prying, shaking, rolling on the ground,
But made me just the same.
And changing constantly, drives me insane
Because of the donkey on my back.

Need to shed this extra weight,
But no diet does the trick.
Now brain-aerobics will make it stick
For the donkey on my back.

So into the Queen of Hearts I turn
Yet slow to command, 'Off with its head!'
Either its me,
Or the donkey on my back.

Fairy Tale

There was once a girl who'd been places,
She'd grown up living like a princess.
When it came to being queen
She chose a creep,
Who said the right things, but didn't mean it.

Halfway across the world, in solitude and work
She did as it was demanded.
Cinderella had it easy,
Prince Charming was a sweetie.
She wondered if her dream had forgotten to get started.

Abused and battered, yet conformed and swell
Vacations and children kept her going.
After more than a decade
And nothing to show for it,
Probably as the torture kept growing.

Slapped in the face, attacked at will,
Broken pieces all over.
Yet she stood her ground
For her daughters not her spouse.
And will get through, before he's sober.

The Evil Bitch, as she is now called
Has come out of hiding to play.
Ruby Slippers turned five inch black heels
Will take her home to life.
But not before she rides her chariots,
And all her dragons she slays.

(To be read as a limerick)