MURDER

It’s a normal event.
One to destroy your world.
There is no escape.
It is your destination.
Are you ready for your vacation?
It’s dooms day.
Just don’t try to
Work out of it.
It’s your… life.

10-29-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: S.H.
Why did they die? There is no reasoning!
But God knows everything!

Another Murder

How many more will die
The victim to a crime?
When I turn around,
There is another one down on the line.
In the river, it’s becoming
A familiar place to die.
How many more will suffer?
And please tell me, Why?

10-29-1989 Sunday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: S.H.
A friend for life or death.

Young Girls

We tell secrets.
We laugh a lot.
Things of tragedies,
We haven’t forgot.
Best friends, twin sisters,
We really love each other.
But there will be a day,
We won’t see one another.
We play games.
We giggle at things.
We find songs.
We love to sing.
We play house.
We play braves.
We find an entrance
To our graves.

10-18-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: dear friends ❤

Forbidden Story

I had once a beautiful friend,
So young and so full of life.
But someone took her energies,
With the edges of their knife.

She was slain with many others,
And thrown within the dirt.
And since there will never be any justice,
It really makes me hurt.

How can one torture another
And love the evil ways?
How can I erase those years,
When they always want to stay?

Resting peacefully, I’m sure they are,
Though their bodies were so destroyed.
Yet it will have to remain my secret.
The tale of the – Forbidden Story!

10-18-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire

Choose You This Day

A stabbing yesterday,
She lies in a ditch.
To choose my next,
You wonder which?

A gun to the head,
Early this morning.
And for the evening,
I chose a burning.

Well to finish off my night.
I am sorry to say
That for my final murder,
I choose you this day.

10-18-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire

My Childhood Lover

He touched me. I’m so… ashamed.
I want to forget him. Don’t ask his name.
Can’t believe he did this to a child.
So viciously rough and destructively wild.
Someone should have heard me scream.
But no, I alone experienced the dream.
So now… how do I tell another
That this maniac was a childhood lover.

10-2-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Sadly, it’s obvious.
Child rape is NOT a loving relationship!

INFLAMED PAIN

Pain inflamed,
scars on fire,
when will the agony
retire?
Inflammation,
irritation,
will I ever escape
this aggravation?
Have You the cure
to heal for sure
this infection
that wants to endure?
Help! I cry
asking why?
Will this be
how I die?

9-24-11 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

WILDLIFE

Wolves, bears, panthers, and thieves…
So much evil to beware,
Enough to make one crazy
Unless they know God is there.
Howls, grunts, cries, and alarms…
Noises to race the heart.
To put my mind at ease,
Oh Lord, how great Thou art!
Fights, scars, claws, and tools…
Instruments of evil.
Thank You, Lord, that You are stronger
Than even the Devil!!
Threats, death, brawls, and robbery…
Are way too common today.
Thank You, Lord, for the comfort
Of looking forward to Your day!

9-30-10 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

Faith Amidst Uncertainty

Children in America. Children in Iraq.
Children in Afghanistan. Children in the world.
All of God’s little angels are in fear.
Bombs going off. Missiles flying by.
Guns rounding off. Planes roaring above.
No one knows anymore what will happen here.
Families going broke. Children starving to death.
Soldiers dying from germs. Leaders risking lives.
Where are the confused to turn for peace?
Priests praying. Choirs singing.
Candle light gatherings. Hand in hand choirs.
Only God knows when it will all cease.
Bowed heads. Closed eyes.
Whispering lips. Heavy hearts.
Bended knees go to the front for battle.
Weary minds. Frightened nerves.
Worried souls. Unsettled bones.
Shaking knees rely on God to stop their rattle.

3-20-03 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

Vile Reality

Vile… it’s all so vile.
Life, love, and reality.
Instruction for the children,
“Vile you shall be.”
Mr. Webster describes you as morally despicable,
physically repulsive,
foul,
of little worth,
degrading,
ignominious,
utterly bad or contemptible.
Learn now what you are
and what’s to be.
Vile is your soul,
I shall help you see.
“But isn’t vile
something one doesn’t like?
I don’t like what you do.
It’s not nice.”
There’s a lot of things I don’t like,
but life is not fair.
Be a nice child.
Learn how to share.
Vile are the role models
that model the children’s souls.
Vile therefore are the futures.
Vile therefore the goals.

7-10-01 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

Roles of Life

He was older, but he was bolder,
and he was very deceptive.
She was in her youth and naive to the truth.
She wasn’t very perceptive.
He flattered the girl and filled her world
with all he could to gain.
She easily believed and easily received
a lifetime supply of pain.
He played the hero, cared for her zero.
He was the winner of the game.
She played the fool, subjected to his rule.
She was the winner of the shame.

6-24-01 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

Sweet Tears of Love

Sweet tears of love from the maiden of youth

born to give her all, but never to tell the truth.

A skeleton within the family, one who has his way.

He enters through the darkness without a word to say.

The only message that he brings is to shame her life with filth.

Someone save this dying maiden from the man who’s full of guilt.

3-8-91 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

Stop The Ones Gone Mad

Four children in a home, violence overwhelming.
Strangers passing through, taking what they’re selling.
Flesh of innocence is invaded to satisfy the trash.
Parents aren’t of any help. They have too much to stash.
Locked in other doors in a home full of tears,
they’re taught to be as bad to understand their fears.

Home, someday, they finally came, but no one changed the scene.
Worse it got to be a child. The world was still so mean.
Teenage years… rebellion came, the young ones learn to fight.
And though they needed someone to trust, hurting everyone made things right.
School was such a drag at times, but came to be the key
to help them understand enough to let themselves be.

Now it’s all so many years that they have seen such crimes.
For growing into young adults was the way to escape the times.
Only through the love of God and the people he chose to send,
were the children able to survive and escape the heartache that will never mend.
So try to understand the note this little message has.
When your children are being abused, stop the ones gone mad!

11-25-91 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

This Little Girl

A story of this little girl, hiding in a closet.
Scared behind the broken door, she has tried to lock it.
Frightened of the things outside, making life a storm
Of violence, rage, and weapons, wondering what will form.

Screaming, hollering, sounds of terror, banging up the place.
If only you could see the look on this little girl’s face.
Tears are running down her cheeks; she cannot close her eyes.
For living in this nightmare has made her paralyzed.

Curled in a little ball, she’s waiting for the kill
Knowing if it never comes, it will be against her will.
Protect this little girl from him. He’s going to commit a crime.
You have to hurry and grab her, there’s really not much time.

Oh NO! He’s broken through the door and found this little girl.
It’s much too late to save her now. He’s going to take her world.
What will she do, now that she’s hurt and he has got away?
Tell me what to do for her, and what it is I’ll say.

Well now this little girl has got a gun within her hand,
And when she pulls the trigger, they will never understand.
Holding it at her side, she puts it to her head.
And though the man is running free, this little girl is dead.

1989 Written by Gail Brookshire
(published in Flight magazine, Spring ’95, page 12)
(by the grace of God)