You learn, adhere, moreseo to the way your were brought up rather than by the words preached to you; monkey see, monkey do.
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Criss-Crossed

Born with the full moon criss-crossed in your eyes ...
shimmmering with hard bullets in disguise
Shot through the heart, ignored, when you first cried.
Found love unique but from me did hide
thoughts behind ebony drapes in your mind
shuttering short-comings, cast them aside.
A mother, wife, is too often love-blind
unless exposed to the demented kind.

Rifles in the closet,
switchblades to force your will.
Rage erupts, criss-crossed, FIRE!
Chaos! It's kill or be killed.

Born, yearning for britches--enormous, big--
wallowing in evil, don't give a fig!
He half expects the moon, stars, to bow down
and declared himself King of this town!
Stormy weather, he cursed; couldn't boss it.
Words bounced off ... useless, tolerance gone, tossed.
Fate waited till an eclipse, intervened.
Shot in the dark but he was only winged.

Rifles in the closet,
switchblades to force your will.
Rage erupts, criss-crossed, FIRE!
Chaos! It's kill or be killed.

Born, like all mankind, only to age, die.
His father creepy, a sty in all eyes.
Mother loosed an arrow of stray lightning
to save his soul. Tears came ... enlightening.
She fell upon her knees, begging the Lord to please
take you straight to heaven. Dad wasn't there.
You were a mirror, clone, to all his ways.
Lightning struck twice! Mom stole you from his lair.

Laid, in a grave stone cold,
moon criss-crossed in your eyes.
Killed just to save your soul,
smothered, drowning in dad's lies.

copyright 2004 Sandra S. Corona