There are people in this world that thrive to abuse, stalk, scare and disrupt any one's life that they can get close to...AKA Oxygen Thieves! To them this is a sick distorted game in which they prey on innocent, helpless and usually unknowing individuals. If you find yourself in any or all of these situations...get help. Even if people/agencies do not seem to be helping don't stop trying to be heard. Call/write/visit law enforcement, local, state, federal agencies, gather petitions, write newspapers, television do whatever it takes. These predator's utilize any and all means to stalk, scare and sometimes worse...
In the still of the night While we're fast asleep There are those who plan Our lives immersed in deceit.
By the light of day You feel so safe Other's are plotting Your final fate.
Lost is your innocence Once they latch on Their respectable attire transforms into claws.
Every electronic device You hold so dear Is fully compromised Designed for fear.
Loss of privacy Now encoded Violating our rights Now laws are broken.
Agencies designed to help Shake their heads Go someplace else Not our job, we're closed til twelve...
This game has been played For so very long With impunity these people Get bolder and strong.
Wake up...everyone of you These words I write Are filled with truth Some of you know...other's will soon.
There are oxygen thieves Floating in our midst They mean us harm They must not win!
ooooooo!! Chilling write, here, Zenith, and sadly all too true. These days we seem caught between a rock and a hard place - either coming down too hard on people who have been misrepresented, or conversely not picking up on the intentions of the real predators. Mutual support is key, I think, and the ability to "watch each others' backs" is a great strength of "a sense of belonging". Thankyou for this wisdom. Kate
A very powerful message. I know what you mean with all these computer virus spreaders running around doing their damage and all the confidential information held by govt it is a very frightening world we have created.
Grab those side-irons, saddle up and join former Civil War sharpshooter Luther Henry for a ride into pure terror, western-style…think ‘Wild Wild West’ meets ‘The X-Files’.
Chris has been fostered at the Crowley boot camp since he turned seven. At sixteen, he is finally ready to run away because his foster father is an abusive person who works Chris and the other children to the point of exhaustion. All he has left of h
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
Love Tinka
This poem really made me think...well written.
Carmen :-)
powerful words...floria
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :(