"unborn child"

I am so sorry I couldn't protect you, we have all been failed in a sense. Pulled into this society the ones who came before us created. This misguided collaboration of people have nothing to live for but paper currency, gold, diamonds. These inanimate objects physically mean nothing, but to men... they will die for them. This is the world that I am bringing you into. One of corruption, misguidedness, greed, hate, there is good in this existence but not so much in the people who are in charge. I wish I could take you to a far away secluded land, but that is no place to raise a child. I hope one day you will understand and forgive me. 

Poems from Iraq

I am not much of a poet but I felt compelled to write as tho a ethereal being was moving my hand for me, these are a few of the results from the "sandbox" . 

                                                       "Are you living?"

I was walking through an alley downtown and I saw a man with a bald head, as he got closer I realized he had no face. I froze stiff in my tracks as soon as I noticed this, he kept creeping toward me like a zombie focusing on its prey. It was whispering something, but I couldn't make out what it was saying until it was right on top of me, I was frozen solid with fear as it started circling me with its head a few inches from mine whispering "Who?" "When?" "Why?" in a demonic voice saying those words over and over again. After slowly circling me 3 times it stopped right in front of my face still rambling those words. It stood their for what seemed like forever focusing deep into my soul with its onyx black eyes, then the creature cocked its head sharply to the side, I heard a loud snap and its head dangled grossly flapping from side to side as it crept back into the shadows. 

                                                          "Graffiti"

Graffiti is beautiful, placed on clean, fresh surfaces where it doesn't belong. Sitting their staring back at the people who pass by it like an outcast. Speaking to them as they pass that this world is not perfect. Striking a little bit of fear into the hearts of the higher class as they pass by. Deface propaganda, pull people down out of the clouds with truth.

                                                           "Death"

I'm falling, trying to cling on to something, scared senseless of hitting the ground, getting consumed by the earth, vines pulling me down, kicking and scratching trying to escape this fate. Can only hold on so long, struggling to live, to exist. The earth where I was born from its soil and roots, becoming more inviting as time passes, struggling is futile... Mommy I'm coming home to your roots once again. 

Small background on "unaxeptable"

I'm not going to bore you with far-fetched beliefs in this blog, everything I write is completely up for debate and of my own retrospect. I'm very open minded and want to hear intelligent point of views and ideas of any nature. My name for the remainder of this blog will be "unaxeptable" which is basically a split persona of mine that believes in free people, freedom of speech, less government, lower taxes, and the fact that some of what our country does is unacceptable. We, the mass of the people should have the final say in everything that affects our lives without deceiving the public on what they are voting for, everything should be up front and honest, is this so much to ask? I currently serve in the military and have seen up close how much money is wasted, how many lives are taken in vein, and how mislead our country is. Many a long night far away from home have I sat in the dark thinking, contemplating, of humanity as a whole; we are in a dire need of "change" and not what Obama speaks of...