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Library Title

"Thank You For Believing In Me"
Thank you for believing in me when I found it difficult to believe in myself... for saying what I've needed to hear sometimes, instead of what I've wanted to hear... for siding with me... and for giving me another side to consider.

Thank you for opening yourself up to me... for trusting me with your thoughts and disappointments and dreams... for knowing you can depend on me and for asking my help when you've needed it.

Thank you for putting so much thought and care and imagination into our friendship... for sharing so many nice times and making some special memories with me.

Thank you for always being honest with me ... being kind to me...being there for me.

Thank you for being a friend to me in so many meaningful ways.

-- by Larry S. Chengges--




"Ain't Life Funny'

I learned to laugh inside my tears,
I learned to be human in my most wretched years...

I learned to feel when I wasn't being touched,
I learned to give when I didn't have much.

I learned to be warm when I was cold...
Living real humbly, I learned to be bold.

I learned to live when I thought it better to die...
I learned to laugh when all I could do was cry.

I learned from below what it's like up above...
While I was hated, I learned how to love.

It was on the move that I learned how to rest,
While at my worst, I learned my best.

I learned about God, when it seemed I was damned...
It is when I was lost that I learned that I am.

I learned to be rich when I had no money...
These things seem so serious, but hey...
ain't life funny!?

(Written anonymously by a homeless poet)

 



Road Sign

A drunk man in an Oldsmobile
They said had run the light
That caused the six-car pileup
On 109 that night.

When broken bodies lay about
And blood was everywhere,
The sirens screamed out eulogies,
For death was in the air.

A mother, trapped inside her car,
Was heard above the noise;
Her plaintive plea near split the air:
Oh, God, please spare my boys!

She fought to loose her pinned hands;
She struggled to get free,
But mangled metal held her fast
In grim captivity.

Her frightened eyes then focused
On where the back seat once had been,
But all she saw was broken glass and
Two children's seats crushed in.

Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
She did not hear them cry,
And then she prayed they'd been thrown free,
Oh, God, don't let them die!

Then firemen came and cut her loose,
But when they searched the back,
They found therein no little boys,
But the seat belts were intact.

They thought the woman had gone mad
And was traveling all alone,
But when they turned to question her,
They discovered she was gone.

Policemen saw her running wild
And screaming above the noise
In beseeching supplication,
Please help me find my boys!

They're four years old and wear blue shirts;
Their jeans are blue to match.
One cop spoke up, They're in my car,
And they don't have a scratch.


They said their daddy put them there
And gave them each a cone,
Then told them both to wait for Mom
To come and take them home.

I've searched the area high and low,
But I can't find their dad.
He must have fled the scene,
I guess, and that is very bad.

The mother hugged the twins and said,
While wiping at a tear,
He could not flee the scene, you see,
For he's been dead a year.

The cop just looked confused and asked,
Now, how can that be true?
The boys said, Mommy, Daddy came
And left a kiss for you.

He told us not to worry
And that you would be all right,
And then he put us in this car with
The pretty, flashing light.

We wanted him to stay with us,
Because we miss him so,
But Mommy, he just hugged us tight
And said he had to go.

He said someday we'd understand
And told us not to fuss,
And he said to tell you, Mommy...
He's watching over us.


The mother knew without a doubt
That what they spoke was true,
For she recalled their dad's last words:
"I'll watch over you."

The firemen's notes could not explain
The twisted, mangled car,
And how the three of them escaped
Without a single scar.

But on the cop's report was scribed,
In print so very fine,
An angel walked the beat tonight
On Highway 109.

(Author Unknown to Me)

* This poem was written by a woman who died in the geriatric ward of Ashludie Hospital near Dunde, England. It was found among her possessions and so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. It is addressed to the nurses who surrounded the woman in her last days - but because it cries for recognition of a common humanity - it could have been meant for all of us.

A Young Girl Still Dwells

What do you see, nurse, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you look at me –

A crabbed old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit with far away eyes,

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice – “I do wish you’d try.”

Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe,

Who resisting or not, lets you do as you will
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.

Is that what you’re thinking, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse. You’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I move at your bidding, eat at your will.

I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters who love one another;

A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon her true love she'll meet;

A bride at twenty, my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep;

At twenty-five now I have young of my own
Who need me to build a secure, happy home.

A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,
Bound together with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons have grown up and gone,
But my man’s still beside me to see I don’t mourn.

At fifty - once more babies play around my knee –
Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.

For all my young are rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.

I’m an old woman now and nature is cruel.
‘Tis her jest to make old age look a fool.

The body it crumbles, grace and vigor depart.
There is a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now again my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain
And I’m loving and living life once again.

I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, nurse, open and see -
Not a crabby old woman,

Look closer – see me!

(Original Author Unknown)

 

 



Swans

Always remember to forget the things that made you sad.
But never forget to remember the things that made you glad.

Always remember to forget the friends who proved unture,
But never forget to remember those who have stuck by you.

Always remember to forget the troubles that passed away,
But never forget to remember the blessings that come each day.

Original Author Unknown





 

 




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