Poetry by Jennifer Olston

O h yeah! You don’t exist anymore Oh yeah! Because now I am in control Oh Yeah! I got back my soul Oh Yeah! Your game is getting too old Yeah, yeah, yeah! I got you now Where I want you to be I got you now Now you will stop teasing me I got you now I got back my soul Your game is too old Oh Yeah! I’m whole again Your control with me is done With tricks up your sleeve Oh! And think you know me Oh yeah? I got you now You don’t exist anymore Because now I am in control I got back my soul Your game is too old I got you now Oh Yeah!

Humanity is indeed very frail To be human is to fail To feel is to be human The less we feel, The less we are understood. Humanity is being jeopardized At the seed of hate We are compromised. As humanity feels less and less At the seed of hate, we will never rest In the pinnacle of pain, we feel nothing We invoke the One’s name in despair And in his name, curse those who were there. In a manner that once was unforeseen We hate what cannot be seen We call upon him for justice Yet through the seed of hate We behave such as beasts and bastards. In the miracle of doom Somehow we hang on Day after day, marching along The seed of hate is within us We feel it, smell it, and behave as such. Every human being is happy and sad Feeling too much is good and bad In the wake of horror and despair At dooms end, we wish not to go there But the seed of hate is within us Flaring deep inside, we curse all others. For humanity’s sake let us wake up Do w...

With these hands of mine I comforted you through the night Loving you time after time Wiping your tears when you cried Caressing your soft baby skin While singing you a lullaby Why then do I cry? You have grown up, that is why! You are not the little boy that used to be Things are different now, if you only knew I miss the days you fell asleep in my arms All cuddled up, your tender skin against mine With these hands of mine G ently I covered you through the night When you were deep asleep, Gently I would touch your face Making sure the fever you had Had escaped With these hands of mine Time after time, I would reach out To guide you down a safety path While you walked Through the path of life As a tear shed from your eye I ask, why do you cry? But in a deep voice you tell me Mom, I do not cry! I just miss the days that have gone by.