Tags: creative writing

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Three years went by, and one evening Katie’s husband came home from work and told her they needed to talk.  He had decided to move his software company to China, where he could create ten times the profit.

He explained how he felt it was not right to expect her to move to China and spend the rest of her life there with him, and that if she wanted a divorce, he would understand.

Her husband said he always knew that Katie carried someone else in her heart that she never spoke of.  He said it must have something to do with Arizona and a cowboy.

Katie had insisted on buying a painting of a cowboy sitting on his horse, looking off into the sunset, and she had that painting hanging on the wall in their bedroom.

“Katie, I can see it in your eyes…because whenever we make love, I see you looking at that picture the whole time.”  Her husband said.  “I just want you to be happy, and if someone else will make you happy, then I want you to go to him.”

The divorce was amicable and Katie found herself with more money than she had ever dreamed of.

Her son, Brad, was sixteen years old, and Katie asked him if he’d like to take a vacation.  They would go and spend the summer in California together.

Katie gave most of her furniture to the Goodwill, packed the car and her and Brad headed West.

Deep down, they both knew where they were going, but the only thing that was said was spoken by Brad when they were leaving Oklahoma City.

“What if he’s married or something, Mom?”

Katie just shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well, then we’ll have that California vacation and make the best of it.”

They stopped in Winslow, AZ and while Brad pumped some gas in Katie’s car, she started feeling something more than butterflies in her stomach.  She had this sick feeling and just hoped it was her nerves.

Katie felt all shakey inside when they took the Two Guns exit off of Interstate 40.  And Brad looked like he was ready to jump out and run the rest of the way.

It was dark when they pulled into the driveway of Michael’s old ranch house.  There were no lights on in the house at all.

Katie and Brad just sat there…the lights of her car shining up the driveway.  Was he there?  Did he even live there anymore?

Suddenly a light came on in the ranch house, and then the light came on inside the closed in front porch.

They could see Michael moving slowly out the front door, looking up the driveway at them sitting in their car.

Brad threw his door open and was out of the car before Katie could stop him.

Michael started walking up the driveway with a limp, and in her headlights, Katie watched as Brad and Michael shared a big hug.

Katie eased her car down the driveway, and saw the big smile on Michael’s face.

Later, while Brad was sleeping, Katie and Michael sat on the front porch and talked.

“Why did you come back?”  Michael said.

Katie walked out to her car, reached in the backseat, and carried a package back to the porch.  She unwrapped the package and handed Michael the painting that had hung in her bedroom back in Peoria.

“I could never forget my cowboy.”  Katie said.

The ranch was really run down, and Katie asked Michael if he’d like a partner.

Michael shook his head no…but then he said, “I could use a wife as my partner…but I don’t need a business partner.”

“You’d marry me, after all the pain I’ve caused you?” Katie asked.

Michael just nodded…

They were married on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.  The ceremony was beautiful and Katie cried many real tears.

Brad had asked Michael to adopt him, and Michael was honored to do so.  Brad could not remember his birth father anyway.

The ranch received a new barn and many improvements on the ranch house.  They even built stables and Michael’s old rodeo buddies would stop and board their horses for the night when they passed through the area.

Next, Katie decided to build a Cowboy Motel, where the cowboys could board their horses and stay in the Motel right on the same property.

In a couple years, Brad went to college at the University of Arizona in Flagstaff.  Brad could have driven back and forth to school each day, but wanted to have the full college experience. 

So Brad lived on campus, and after four years, Michael and Katie watched proudly as Bradley Crawford received a Degree in Live Stock Management.

And Katie and Michael spent forty years together, taking long trips on horse back .  They loved to leave Brad in charge of the ranch and just ride away for weeks at a time.

They’d ride the lonely canyons together, and camp at night.  Katie loved to go to sleep by the fire with Michael’s strong arms around her.  They would lay there and watch the stars.

Whenever a shooting star would cross the sky…they would proclaim their love for each other.

And life goes on…

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Katie leaned her seat back, put in her ear buds and closed her eyes.  Turned on the music and tried to relax…and like always, she started slipping back in time.

She was on her way home to Peoria, IL when her car had broken down just outside Flagstaff, AZ on Interstate 40.

Her four year old son, Brad, in the car with her.  She had just left a stormy relationship in Long Beach, CA that had taken up five years of her life.

In just a few months, Katie would be twenty eight, and she still looked good…but she could see the changes starting to take place when she looked in the mirror.

Mom had said to pack it in, and come home with Little Brad, and then her car broke down…the sign on the exit said Two Guns.  “Is there really a town of Two Guns,” she remembered asking herself?

An old pickup truck pulled up behind her, and a good looking young man in a cowboy hat got out and approached her car.

His name was Michael, and he looked under the hood and told her she had a hole in the block the size of his fist.

Katie had started to cry…and the snow started to fall around them.

Michael Crawford was a sweet young man, and took Katie and Little Brad to his small ranch just off the Two Guns exit.

Brad had fallen asleep on the short ride in the pickup, and Katie laid him on the sofa in Michaels living room to sleep.

The ranch house had a closed in porch and Katie and Michael sat there drinking beer and found they really enjoyed each others company.

They watched the snow fall and talked all night, and the sunrise view of the Arizona Mountains was so beautiful.  Katie had never seen anything that could compare to that.

And that is how it started.  Katie had met a real life Rodeo Cowboy, and they fell deeply in love.

They both grew so close to each other so quickly that first winter.  And Little Brad loved Michael so much that it somehow did not seem right.  Katie could not quite put her finger on it at the time.

When spring rolled around, Michael left Katie and Brad, and followed the Rodeo Circuit.

Katie had never felt so alone.  But she tried her best to adjust.

The welcome home that Katie and Little Brad had waiting for Michael that fall was wonderful, and the happy little family settled in for another winter.

That second rodeo season was a little different, and just a couple months into it, Michael had broken his leg while Bull Riding in Dallas, TX and came home in a cast.

A friend of Michael’s had loaded him in the back of a pickup truck, gave him a bottle of whiskey, and had drove him home.  Michael waving at all the truckers and people in their cars as he drank that bottle to ease the pain.

Katie had taken a job working the fuel desk at the Little America Truck Stop in Flagstaff, and had kept the family going.

Things were still good at this point.  But when that third spring came around, and Michael insisted he had to ride the rodeo…Katie knew she had to leave.

She wanted more from life than to be the wife of a rodeo cowboy, always worrying and wondering when he’d show up hurt or even worse.  Michael had tried to get her to marry him…but Katie had told him no, not until he got the rodeo out of his system.

Katie collected her last paycheck from the truck stop, and drove Michael’s old pickup into town and left it at the gas station that was run by a friend of Michael’s.

Her and Little Brad got on board the bus, and her son was so sad, but he would be eight years old soon.  Brad sat there with the cowboy hat that Michael had given him, and tears streamed down his cheeks as the bus pulled out of town.

Katie had went back to school at a Junior College in Peoria, and while eating lunch one day had met the man that would eventually be her husband.

While Katie had left Michael because she thought it was the best thing for her and her son…she always felt like she’d left a part of herself back on that little ranch.

Katie’s husband was nothing like Michael, he owned a software company and had a lot of money.  He had been good to Katie and Brad.

But, she still found Brad at times, sitting outside looking at the western sunset, wearing the cowboy hat that Michael had given him.  She knew that Brad thought of Michael as often as she did.

Brad was thirteen years old now, and they never talked about Michael ever again.  It was like they both knew it would just open an old wound.

Katie had called once to the gas station where she left Michael’s pickup.  His friend had told her, Michael had quit the rodeo, and had a job working cattle on a big ranch nearby.

“Would you like a drink, Ma’am?”  The Flight Attendant asked Katie.

It snapped her back awake…and she said “no thanks” and then turned her head and looked at her husband.

He was a good man, but did not have the same kind of passion as Michael, but a good and decent man all the same.

He said, “Brad will be glad when we get home, he did not want to stay with your Mother while we attended this Convention in California.”

Katie smiled…and nodded her head yes.

Then he looked out the window and said, “I never knew Arizona had mountains?”

And then he noticed a tear running down Katie’s cheek.  Her husband just looked at her with a puzzled look on his face.

Down below, was almost three years of Katie’s life blowing around in that High Desert dust.

And Katie lowered her head and sobbed quietly.

On the ground, a lonesome cowboy sat on his horse, looked up and watched the jet fly over.  It was Michael, and his heart had never healed…  He watched that jet fly off into the distance and out of sight.

Then pointed his horse for home…and rode slowly in bitter silence.

Tags: writing

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“Pa…wake up…Pa…can you hear me?” 

It was the voice of my daughter, Sari.

My eyes opened…and I can tell from the blue color that I’m under the tarp of the lean-to.

“How long have I been out, ” I asked.

Sari said, “A couple hours, Pa.  The heat got to ya again and I been putting this cool towel on your forehead.”

My sons…and daughters…all of my grand children…they all sat around me.

“Tell us what happened again, Pa…and tell us what we should do if something happens to you?”  Sari said.  “You know we’ll be lost without you…you’ve taught us so much.”

So…I told the story…one more time…maybe the last time…so they could pass it along to their families…to know where this family came from…and what we had survived.

I began…

Twenty years ago…the economies of the world collapsed…and many people like us fled to the mountains.  The government came after us…and captured many…but your Momma and I out smarted them.

We brought you kids up here…and built the log cabins…and taught you everything we could think of to help you survive.

After the first couple years…we ran out of ammunition…and I had to make bows and arrows…spears and sling shots…but we’ve survived.  The men hunting…the women gathering.

I’ve taught you boys how to make a fish hook with a tree branch…how to build a fire and make a camp.  Taught you what water you could drink…and how to skin and prepare game.

Your Momma and I done our best…and when I’m gone…bury me beside her, over there under them pines. 

All of their heads turned and looked at the grave of their Mother…their Grand Mother to the little ones.

Don’t ever give up…don’t ever quit…and no matter what…don’t ever trust anyone from the government.  It was the governments of the world that destroyed the lives of everyone on the planet.

Greedy fascists took control of our government…sleeper agents worked their way into high positions of power.  We had a President who gave billions of dollars to terrorist organizations.  And that President made behind closed doors deals with leaders from around the world…that broke our country and caused economic chaos in the world.

America was blamed…and our government started rounding up families to work in the death camps.  They worked the people until they dropped…and beat them.  Many were killed and are still dying and suffering.

This was when we were still a Christian country…not a Muslim country like today.  Sharia Law replaced the Constitution…and those who dared to protest were put to death by the Ayatollah.  President one day…Ayatollah the next…and fascism was the way of things from then on.

Oh…we tried to fight at first…but our shotguns and rifles were no match for the tanks and machine guns of our new Islamic Government.

It was all so slick…they convinced people our diversity was our strength…and really they were just loading our country up with sleeper agents that wanted to destroy us.

You kids know…to go down to the lower cabin in the winter…just at the snow line…and to retreat up here to the higher cabin in the spring and summer.

Always remember…you are a family…even those of you who did not come from my loins…and stumbled into our lives…you are family.  You are all my sons…my daughters…my grand children.  You are all you’ll have when I’m gone…hold on to one another.

I opened my eyes…and standing at my feet was my wife…smiling with her hand out stretched.

Sari said, “What is it Pa…what is it that you’re looking at?”

“It’s your Momma…she’s come back for me…always remember how much we loved you all…” I said.

And I closed my eyes…felt my body rise up…and I took her hand…and we started to drift away.

We stopped at the edge of the woods…looking back…the family was all huddled together and crying…my old shell of a body lay there still and lifeless.

“Don’t worry…I’ve been preparing a place for us all…and now you’ll be there to help me…and someday we’ll all be together again,”  my wife said to me.  “Life is not over…living may be over…but life goes on forever.”

I realized at that moment…that my kids and grand kids will be hunted…and suffer and die…but each time…we’ll come back for them and take them to the Promised Land.  It made me smile…and I wished somehow I could tell them all…but my wife explained that was not allowed.

Life must be lived to the fullest…with free will and love…and when it is time…we pass on to the next world.

The light was bright and getting brighter.  And I knew that everything I’d taught my children was true…and that I was about to meet Jesus.

“He’s been wanting to see you…waiting a long time…and talks about you everyday…”

And as we neared him…I could feel the warmth of his Sacred Heart…enveloping me…and I knew…that everything was gonna be alright.

Tags: writing

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Bruce had always been a bully, even when he was a child.  Kids at school stayed as far away from him as they could, because he seemed to take great pleasure in watching people in pain.

At sixteen years old, Bruce had killed his first man.  He had picked an old man up that was thumbing a ride and had robbed him and stabbed him in the neck with a screwdriver.  The old man only had twelve dollars on him, and he died from his wounds.

While Bruce bragged about killing the old man to his friends, and was turned into the Police, he was never put on trial for the crime.

He was a juvenile and the Police claimed there was lack of evidence.

At twenty five years old, Bruce had found a job that he really liked, working as a Bouncer in a Strip Club.

On this day, Bruce’s car would not start and he knew if he was going to get to work on time, he’d have to take the bus.

While the Owner of the Strip Club liked Bruce, he had already warned him for the last time not to be late for work.

Bruce started running down Thomas Road, trying to get to the bus stop before the 4:05 arrived.  If he could catch that bus, he had a good chance of making it to work on time.

About a half a block before he got to the intersection where he could catch the bus, an old woman was walking the same direction as Bruce was running.  He yelled at her to get out of the way, but she must have been deaf.  At the last moment, Bruce could have ran around her, but he lowered his shoulder and ran into that old woman like a football player.

“It serves the stupid old woman right…” Bruce thought to himself.

And after running into her, he looked over his shoulder while he was running and started to laugh.  The old woman was getting slowly to her feet, both of her knees bloody and looked really shaken.

He had reached the intersection and ran right out in front of a car, the driver honking the horn wildly and Bruce just barely got out of the way.

Bruce caught the bus, just before it pulled out.  He was sweating like a pig from the Arizona Sun…but he was going to make it to work on time…maybe.

He was suppose to be to work at 5 p.m., and the bus should be able to cover the eight miles in plenty of time.  If it did not have to make too many stops.

The bus only made it a block, and it stopped to pick up a passenger.

Bruce looked out the window, and saw an old man in a dirty looking floppy old hat.  The old man must be homeless, and he locked eyes with Bruce and raised his arm and pointed his index finger at him.

As the bus pulled off, the old man just stood there with his arm still raised pointing at Bruce.

It sent shivers down his back.  “What the Hell was his problem?”  Bruce thought to himself.

Two blocks later, the bus stopped again, this time to let a passanger off.

Once again, the old man in the floppy hat stood outside the bus and pointed at Bruce.

How did this guy travel the two blocks as fast as the bus had traveled?

Four blocks later, the bus stopped to take on several more people and let a few off, and the old man in the floppy hat stood there pointing at Bruce.

Again and again….each time the bus stopped, the old man in the floppy hat was waiting at the bus stop, raised his arm and pointed his boney finger at Bruce.

Sixty four blocks later, Bruce had arrived at his stop and got off the bus.  The old man with the floppy hat stood at the back of the bus and called to him.

Bruce ran, and he had never run from anything in his life.  It was a block off the bus route to the Strip Club, and Bruce looked at his watch when he walked in the door.  He was ten minutes late, and his Boss looked pissed.

Bruce approached the Owner of The Club and started trying to explain…but his Boss just shook his head and walked away.  He heard the Owner tell the Bartender to call Mark, and have him come in and cover Bruce’s shift.

This was bad…Bruce really needed this job.  He walked outside and felt like he really needed to talk to somebody.  He pulled out his cell phone as he leaned against the front of the building and called his Mother.

The phone rang…and finally a woman answered, “This is the Parker Home, can I help you?”

“Who is this?”  Bruce asked…as he did not recognize the voice that answered.

“This is Mrs. Parker’s next door neighbor, Gloria, and Mrs. Parker is not here.”

Bruce asked, “When will she be back?”

“I don’t know, the Police took her to the hospital to identify the body of her son…he was run over by a car about an hour ago and was killed instantly!”  Gloria said.

Bruce dropped his cell phone…as he watched the old man in the droopy hat walking towards him with his arm stretched out…pointing his boney  finger…his eyes blazed like two fire balls…and he carried a scythe in his other hand.

Bruce…the big tough bully…lowered his head and knew that it was useless to run any further.  He realized why his Boss had not spoken to him, he could not even see Bruce!

The Grim Reaper took Bruce under the arm and guided him into eternity.

Tags: writing

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The old woman was alone, and had been for many years.

She lived next to the park and spent much time there feeding the ducks and enjoyed watching the children play.

Each morning after breakfast, she would make a sack lunch and go over to the park.  It was like a home away from home for her.

Money was an issue with the old woman.  She lived on a fixed income and often did without much of what she needed.

Her home was paid for, as her husband had worked all of his life to pay for their little home.

Now they wanted her home…the big building company that wanted to tear down her home and use the site to build a big apartment complex.

The old woman had befriended a family of ducks. 

And one day, after feeding the Mother duck and her babies, the ducks followed her home.

Those ducks made a home under her front porch and they provided much company for the old woman.

She watched that family of ducks like a Shepherd watches his flock.

And every day, as she left to go to the park, the family of ducks followed along behind her.

For three years, the old woman had refused to sell her home and move, so the big company could buy her property and build their apartment complex.

Now, they were using the Courts.  She received a notice that the big company was going to try and take her home away using the Court System.

The paperwork said her home needed painting and it was making the rest of the neighborhood look run down.

She did not have the money to paint the house, and her health was not that good anyway.

One evening, the old woman heard a knock on her front door.  She looked out, but there was nobody there.

So she opened the door, and in walked the Mother Duck and all of her little ones.

Those ducks made themselves at home, and wandered the house. 

After a while, the Mother Duck carried a small piece of paper to the old woman.

It was an old Lottery Ticket from years before.

That Mother Duck stood there and looked the old woman in the eye, and they just stared at each other.

Suddenly, the old woman realized…that Mother Duck was telling her to play the Lottery!

But what numbers should she play? 

As if the Mother Duck understood what the old woman was thinking, she climbed up on the old woman’s lap and pecked on her old Bible that sat next to her at all times on the table.

The old woman picked up the Bible and let it open where it may.

She looked down and the first words she saw were that God created the Earth in six days.

So, her first number would be 6.  Then it was twelve disciples, and the 23rd Psalm. 

The woman went on like that until she had six numbers to play.

Then she left the ducks inside her house and walked to the corner store, and played the numbers.

It couldn’t hurt?  It was only a dollar and she thought of her husband while she did it.

He had played the Lottery when he was alive, but never really won very much.

When the old woman returned from the store, she put the Lottery Ticket in her Bible and went to bed.

The next morning, a knock came on her door, and it was a man from the big company.  He sneered at her when he saw the ducks inside her house and pulled a camera from his pocket and started taking pictures.

That Mother Duck came from nowhere and flew at that man like she was insane.  She chased that man all the way to his car, then came back to the old woman.

The old woman sat, with her head in her hands.  What was she going to do.

The Mother Duck came to the old woman, and started pulling on the bottom of her skirt.  So, she got up and followed the Mother Duck, who stopped in front of the old radio that had been in the house for years.

The old woman turned it on, just in time to here the Lottery numbers from the night before.

6, 12, 23….all the numbers she had played were on the list.

The man on the radio said, “And there was one winner, which pays Two Hundred Twenty Three Million Dollars.”

The old woman stayed in her home.  She had a nice fenced in area made for the ducks in her side yard.  A pet door was installed for the ducks and she had her house painted.

A Lawyer was hired, and after making a nice donation to the Mayors Campaign, building an apartment complex was no longer an important issue.

Several years later, the old woman passed away, and all of her money was left to the city, and was only to be used for the Park.  In her will, it said the city must pass a law protecting the ducks, and build a shelter for those ducks and feed them.

Another stipulation was, that her home was to be torn down, and a statue of the Mother Duck was to be erected on the propterty.  The land was given to the city as a Memorial for the Mother Duck who had saved her home.

The big company?  Well, they were eventually found guilty of illegal practice, and the CEO’s went to prison and the company went out of business.

Somehow, there seems to be some kind of justice in that.

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If you bought a dog and could not afford to feed it or pay for its Vet Bills…you would be arrested in this country.

We have laws about animal cruelty…and they will send your ass to prison for not caring for an animal that is in your charge.

Yet…we have people in this country that have 4, 5, 6 or a dozen babies and they have no means to care for them???  Many of these people do not work of even try to better their lives.

What’s the answer?  Maybe…and I’ve not thought this completely through…but maybe when a woman has a child and cannot care for it…they should tie her tubes after she has the first baby.

Like…tell her that we understand how things happen…but if she cannot afford to pay the medical bills of the baby or feed, care and shelter the baby…maybe she should not have anymore kids.

I remember reading about a guy a few years ago that had starved like 50 horses almost to death.  They gave him something like 5 years in prison and told him he could never own horses again for the rest of his life.

This having child after child while people are living in government slums…is just wrong.

It’s just not reponsible…or am I wrong?

Sure…I’m mixing apples & oranges.  I’m evil for equating dogs with children…blah…blah..blah

But, I just think it is odd…that in America you can be put in prison for not providing for your animals…but it’s okay if you bring children into the world when you cannot provide for them.

I mean…it’s not like you get pregnant sitting on a toilet seat… All you have to do to keep from getting pregnant is don’t have sex???

What should happen to men that get women pregnant and then don’t financially provide for the child?  They should be put in prison until the child turns 18 years old…and make them do hard labor like building roads and dams.

Sounds harsh?  Well, the guy that abandons a child…has just placed that child into a prison of poverty.  So…the man should go to prison also.

Oh wait…I just realized…this would throw a wrench into the Democratic Plan.  We must have massive amounts of poor people endebted to the Democratic Party through entitlement programs to keep re-electing the progressive/Marxists.

Dang…I hate it when it all comes around full circle in a blog.

Go on back to breeding and popping out all those kids into poverty…the Democrats need the votes.

Tags: Life

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There once was a wise old Eagle that mentored many young Eagles.  The wise old Eagle had gray hair, and taught the young Eagles to hunt, fish and how to survive in the wild.

One day, the wise old Eagle was teaching a young Eagle by the name of Eggbert.  They had been flying most of the day and had stopped to rest on a branch of a tall pine tree.

As they sat side by side…they looked off into the distance and they could see a terrible thunderstorm approaching.

The wise old Eagle leaned close to Eggbert and told him that if he wanted to survive the terrible storm, he must do as he was told.  “You just do as I do Eggbert…and you’ll be alright….but if you don’t…you might not survive this storm.”

The wise Eagle sat perfectly still…calmly watching the storm approach.  The wind started to pick up and it started to rain.  Lightning flashed…thunder roared…and Eggbert began to get scared.

In fear, Eggbert flew away from the wise old Eagle…and landed on a rock ledge.  Eggbert thought he would be safe on the ledge because he would be sheltered from the rain and wind.

The wise old Eagle turned his head and watched Eggbert fly away in fear….then he spread his broad wings and started flapping with all of his strength.  The wise old Eagle raised off his perch and started flying straight towards the eye of the storm…faster and faster he flew…Eggbert watched in horror and at the right moment…the wise old Eagle spread his wings as wide as he could…and the wind picked him up and he started to glide higher and higher…and pretty soon the wise old Eagle was circling high above the clouds…safely above and away from the storm.

Eggbert was not doing quite as good….as the wind was making its way around the ledge and it was a struggle to stay on the narrow perch he had chosen.  The wind howled and made terrible noises…and scared poor Eggbert.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning came from the sky and hit the rock ledge that Eggbert sat upon.  The ledge crumbled and Eggbert was stunned from the electric shock…and the little Eagle started to fall…faster and faster he plunged towards the floor of the canyon.

Eggbert remembered what the wise old Eagle had taught him…to flap his wings with all his might…and he started to do just that.  Slowly…Eggbert stopped falling and started to rise up in the air.

Eggbert pointed himself towards the eye of the storm and flew as fast as he could…then he spread his wings wide and the wind got under his wings and started to lift him higher and higher in the sky.

In a short while he was safely above the storm and gliding in a circle next to the wise old Eagle.  The old gray haired Eagle told Eggbert…”You should always do what the wise old Eagles tell you…and if you do…you may be lucky enough to grow to be a wise old Eagle with gray hair too.”

NOTE:  This is one of my Granddaughters favorite stories.  I got it from one of my oldest and dearest friends.  An Author by the name of Don Bendell.  This story was in a recent book that Don wrote, “Delta Detachment” which I enjoyed very much.  Mr. Bendell is a retired Green Beret and taught me Martial Arts back in the mid-seventies.  Don & Shirley Bendell have two son’s that are Green Berets…and Shirley is recovering from Cancer.  I pray for the Bendell Family everyday.

Hope you enjoyed the story.  I did not copy/paste this piece…but put it in my own words as I remembered the story that Don told.  Young children love this story…and it teaches them to listen to the wiser old folks.

Tags: Life

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While a select few in her family are doing financially much better than they deserve…

She is crying for the rest of her family who suffers in poverty.

Her family members must remain in poverty…to continue receiving the Government hand outs.

She is crying…her heart aching for her family members that have lost their self respect…from willing taking the free bread and cheese.

Ninety five percent of her families wealth lays in the hands and controled by only five percent of the family.

Family members she loves so much…live in cardboard boxes on the street…long past being helped…the only option now is to enable them.

She is crying real tears…because she has no choice but to be their enabler…all the while…that five percent bicker back and forth…pitting one class of people against another for personal gain.

Nancy…the daughter of a long ago Mayor of Philadelphia….came from a modest family…and yet now has 21 million dollars in the bank.  How did that happen?  How did Little Nancy who only earns $174,000 a year, amass a 21 million dollar fortune?

And John…how did John become so rich to buy a 5 million dollar boat…while people are dying of hunger?

John and Nancy….American Family Members who claim to be Champions for the poor…and really they just look down their nose and ignore their poor family members.

Yes…she cries…and the tears pool around her feet…as it aches to keep her torch raised in the air…all alone on Liberty Island…she tries to hold back the tears…and wait for night to come…so nobody can see her cry.

The skyline no longer looks the same…and she cries because so many have forgotten the day thousands of her family members were murdered.

John and Nancy want to keep the poor family members poor…so they are dependent upon them…then John and Nancy can continue to amass their fortunes and further their political careers.

The Statue Of Liberty is crying…as she has stood there welcoming legal immigrants since 1876…and now she is mocked and spat upon by those who don’t even bother to enter our country legally.

And I…am crying with her.

Tags: politics

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