Dusty M. Kallembach

         pen and "P"aper
poems and qu"O"tes
     writing's th"E" refuge
                  tha"T" gives me hope
         it release"S" the hurt

  and feelings o"F" pain.
           It clears "O"ut  the worries
               that d"R"ive us insane.

                       I'l"L" forever be grateful.
                  Noth"I"ng compares.
      For all that I "F"ace,
        poetry is th"E"re.

The very first month
Of each passing year
Brings up your birthday
Even though you're not here.

There are years that I smile
Seeing memories of you,
But sometimes it's hard
The whole day through.

I don't buy you gifts
Or ice cream and cake.
I don't send invites;
There are no guests to thank.

Just as you liked it
When you were with us.
Not much on attention
Or making a fuss.

You'd give others presents
Instead of you.
God understood that
And knew what to do.

He put you together
With a kind heart.
He made you perfect
Right from the start.

You became the present
'Cause he knew how'd you'd be.
Even on YOUR birthday
You'd give the gifts to me.

Yet, it still seems ironic
That on the day of your birth
I got the best gift
With the most worth.

So on January second
Of every year,
I'm down on my knees
And fighting the tears.

I thank God for my gift
Of choosing you as my Dad.
You were the best father
I could have had.

Dear school shooters and everyone else,

Hurt people hurt people.
That's what they say.
I wish you'd gotten help,
But you made them pay.

I'll never understand.
If you knew such pain,
Why create more
By acting insane?

Mommas are crying
As they lie in their beds.
A parent's worst nightmare.
Their child is dead.

Things you've been through.
The news says a lot,
But there's no excuse.
Is that all you've got.

There are other ways to deal,
Yet their lives you stole.
You caused more pain
Than you'll ever know.

Misery loves company
And evil exists.
Let's all pray.
Let's end this.

All God's people
Gather as one,
Become united.
It shall be done.