Dear Baby Sister,

Dear Baby Sister,
Although I'm only 16, my 16 years of experience was given to me to share with you
so I'm gonna share them with you.
You're already in pre-school and you seem to have things handled,
but remember that these primary years only last a short time
so take advantage

When you reach kindergarten,
don't look at nap time as a punishment.
It's a gift that you'll regret not accepting in the future.
And your name in kindergarten sticks with you for most years in elementary school,
so don't be the bully or the girl who causes class to elongate and miss recess.
Nobody wants to befriend them

When you reach upper class which is 4th-6th grade,
This is the time to get a head start on your education.
Take the honors Math and English classes because you'll be thankful when you reach high school.
I know you belong in those classes because you're already a smart girl.
Now sixth grade is a breeze...well the classes are.
This is the grade where you'll be introduced to somebody who will accompany you throughout your school years...her name is drama.
Watch out for her because she can cause stress and serious heartache

Now middle school only lasts two years, but it seems it'll take forever.
Don't mistake middle school for a circus.
I know the girls will probably look like clowns with all their make-up
and the boys will look like hairy monkeys,
but believe it or not--it's normal
This is the awkward stage when girls start growing and wearing make-up
and boys start becoming interested in girls,
don't get caught up. You have a life ahead of you.
When you finally get out of that circus, now you're moving onto the big leagues...
High school.

Now high school is what you make it.
Don't let movies like Mean Girls scare you because that is an exaggerated version.
My advice is just to pick the right friends and chill with the right crowd.
Focus on your work because your grades determine your life...no pressure.
As a freshman, you'll probably get picked on,
but I'm not really worried about that because you can handle yourself, you get it from me.
You have to be invincible and bounce back from any negative thing thrown your way.

After four years, you're set and technically a grown woman
and you won't need my help anymore.
I was the youngest sister until you came along thirteen years later,
and now I vow to be your closest companion and trust me when I say this...
I will always be there when you need me because that's what big sisters are for.

Love Your Big Sister,
Cheryl

Random Haikus

He makes my heart sing

Like a cage free canary

That will not look back

He looks at me as

If I'm not valuable

But I know I am 

She told me to trust

And fall in her open arms

And didn't catch me 

Eight Thousand Words

A comedian? He's looking more like a deer in headlights
This ain't no comedy club full of people and drinks
Already bubbling to laugh and have a good night
These are imprisoned women facing,
6 years, 7 years, maybe even life.
He can't know how much they miss their kids
Their parents and even their grandchildren
They don't wan to open up, not even a little
Some, pretending to listen
Aren't really there, instead on a battlefield
Against scars and addictions
Does he really think his gift can be accepted here?
But yes
An unexpected grin breaks surface
The permanent frown is rapidly erased
A surprised laugh is omitted
And the aloof look is defaced
Laughter is boiling and emotions are sheer
A hand on a back or tear
Are just mere signs of acceptance and friendship
The intention is harmless with no hatred in gear
With laughter in their hearts
Their ears are finally open
To not only a speech, but a heartfelt devotion
The realization has kicked in
On where they are
What transformations can happen, and where they can begin
Repentance and regret hang on surrendering hands
Sisters in Christ are becoming new again
Their sins are wiped away along with the shame
They have declared war against wrong
A newfound love for Christ has been set aflame
Now that the truth is something that they know
It's not so difficult to finally let go
Guilt and pain escape their changed souls in the form of tears
Satan's hold in dissolved
And Christ's is premiered.

Dear Diary

November 4, 2010
Dear Diary,
I've been thinking of a few life questions that I can't figure out the answer to. Now, these 20 questions have been haunting me for a while now and I'm hoping that maybe if I write them down somehow they'll stop bothering me or I could find an answer in the future or something. Well anyways...

1. How are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
2. Why are there flotation devices under the plane's seat instead of parachutes?
3. Do fish ever get thirsty?
4. Is there an abbreviation for the word abbreviate?
5. Why do people say your alarm clock is going off when it is actually on?
6. Why was Eve not freaked out when a snake started talking to her?
7. Why do people who live in the desert wear long sleeve shirts? Isn't it hot?
8. What happens if a college student who lives on campus has a child?
9. Why dose your skin color determine who you are?
10. Why did the Latin language die?
11. Who did the math when it came to school months and summer break?
12. Why is it necessary to learn chemistry if I'm going to be a writer?
13. How did the Israelites lose the ark of the covenant?
14. Why do we drink cow's milk?
15. If in the animal kingdom the male is the prettiest to attract females, why is it opposite with humans?
16. Do criminals have a conscience?
17. Am I supposed to be this short?
18. Why are boys such jerks sometimes?
19. Why am I not considered an attractive girl to boys?
20. If Psalm 139:14 says that I'm fearfully and wonderfully made, then why are some girls at school made more wonderfully than me?

April 7, 2025
Dear Diary,
I've looked back upon the above entry that I wrote fifteen years ago as a sophomore in high school and realize that I was immature and naïve. But with life experience, I can answer those important questions about myself. For example, I may not be able to answer why there are flotation devices under the plane's seat, but I can answer questions 17-20.

  17. The answer is yes. Yes you are supposed to be that short because you weren't done growing.    You may have been 5'3 at the time, but if you were 5'7 at that time I would be over 6'0 now!
  18. The boys were jerks because you were in high school! I mean some men are still jerks, but they were in high school and far from being mature.
  19. You weren't considered attractive to boys because you didn't need to attract the wrong boys anyways. There was one boy put in this world for me and if you attracted any others, you may have missed him.
  20. And oh, number twenty. You were right. Psalm 139:14 does state, "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." But where you were wrong was in thinking that those other pretty girls were more wonderful than you. I know two people today that would disagree with your question. God and my husband. After all, those opinions are the only ones who matter.

True Statements

Roses are red, violets are blue

The statements mentioned above 

And below are unquestionably true

I believe all dads should strive

To walk in my dads' shoes

He taught us to be tough 

And to just walk off a bruise

I love how when mom doesn't cook

He'll make a random concoction and call it stew

He's the biggest supporter of our childhood sports

And has a life lesson ready for when we lose 

You gotta love how he brags

About all his old school moves

He planted us all in his garden

Cared for us separately and watched as we grew

He's the dad who will lay out two options

And give us the opportunity to choose

I guess you can call him an artist

I mean the plan for our lives, he drew

When he was young, on his own

From the sinful life he withdrew

That sounds pretty amazing to me

I don't know bout you 

So yes, roses are red and violets are blue

These statements are definitely true

But my dad is one of the best 

And that fact reigns true too

Porcelain Marbles--Part 3/3:

My father with all color drained from him
Walked out the door from the old house
He walked down the worn out stone path
His suede shoes stepped right through me
The velvet envelope in his right hand
Was stamped with our family's name
He looked at the envelope one last time
and kissed it as a tear escaped his eye
He gently placed it in the mailbox
and retreated back through the door.
I watched this from the grass
and felt a surge of energy
I rose and walked towards that mailbox
and opened it slowly--the stubborn rust fought.
In the shadows of the dusty box
was a velvet letter stamped on it--my family's name
I touched the letter immersed with dust
and carefully opened its contents
And there was a letter addressed to me
It read: "To my beloved daughter,
I'm sorry I haven't been the perfect father.
I've never been bold enough to tell you this
So I decided to write it instead. I love you
and I always have, its just that since--
Ever since your mother died I just--I
couldn't do it on my own
And to see you everyday as a living and breathing memory of her
It--it killed me. You resemble your mother
In looks, your personality, your laugh and smile
So I decided to bury you, well bury me
in my work to separate us.
The purpose of this letter is to explain.
To explain what I was too much of a coward to say
Which was that I do love you and I know
that actions speak louder than words
But, I'm hoping you'll forgive my actions
and soak in my pleading words.
I'm sorry. And I love you Emily. Sincerely, Dad."
My vision blurred with regret
So blurred that I almost missed the last line.
"P.S. The wheel is attached to this letter.
I hope you live the life I've always dreamed
that my little girl will live, Emily."
Truth is, I was able to live his dream and my life told a delicate story--delicate as porcelain

Porcelain Marbles--Part 2/3:

It ran down the street
Down through my childhood neighborhood
Down the street where I once played
Past my neighbor's house who cared for me
When Daddy didn't, which was very often
It kept rolling as if it was begging me
to follow it down the aching memory lane
Beginning to give up, I slowed down
My body began to give in
due to my severe malnutrition and dehydration
I took several more steps
not knowing which one will cause me to faint,
But I continued not knowing why
each step was exciting and exasperating
Until one step caused my fall--
And I fell
I fell right onto the green grass of the yard
The grass that was stained with my childhood memories
Slowly turning my head, I caught sight of my home
Multiple childhood scenes played out at one time in black and white
I saw the porch twenty-two years ago
My mother and father swinging to and fro
On the hammock on the porch
My mother bubbling with happiness
As my father rubbed her swelled stomach
I saw the driveway twenty-two years ago
My parents pulled up in a black Volkswagen
My father ran to my mother's car door
And helped her out of the car carefully
Her hands were full with me--her joy
Together they walked through home's door
I saw the steps seventeen years ago
A little girl with bouncy golden curls
Jumping off of them from her father, laughing
Her mother sitting on the porch smiling
I saw the grass fifteen years ago
A small girl in a vibrant floral summer dress
Tossing the porcelain marbles
One fell from her sight and sent her crying
Crying into her parents' arms
She pulled them to the front yard and pointed
She pointed to the green grass
Where her beloved marble was lost
The parents searched and searched
My father came over to where I collapsed
He looked directly into my wise eyes
And he smiled--
He smiled a smile that had love written all over it
Then he reached down and I reached up
His transparent arm went straight through mine
He stood back up tall as can be
With the porcelain marble in hand
He looked over to seven year-old me
And she ran towards him and him to her
And they hugged and she smiled.
They began walking back to the house
Little me and my mom walked through the door
But my dad, looked back at me--lying there
In the old wild grass
He looked straight into my glistening eyes
And smiled.
All scenes disappeared as my father entered the house
I looked up into the bright English sky and smiled.
I could have lied there forever if a sharp pain hadn't struck me in the shoulder
But it did.
And when it did, I rolled over off my back
To find my green porcelain marble
I picked it up and kissed it--so happy to have it.
Then an odd sight caught my eye.

Porcelain Marbles--Part 1/3:

My father was a busy man
He never had time for me--his daughter
Never found the time to remarry
I guess his work seemed to bury his past
A past full of hurt and pain
Something in which he dared not unbury
We scarcely came in contact
The walls of the big house
and the oversized door to his office
seemed unwelcoming and disapproving of me
This all played out true when he passed--
unexpectedly and from heartbreak
And with nothing in my pockets but fear, ignorance,
fourteen years of a broken heart,
And two porcelain green marbles,
I stepped out of home's threshold
and onto the streets of England--my new home
The next eight years of my life
consisted of regret, and searching
Searching for a purpose, searching for an answer
Searching for a reason to live
Searching for food, searching for shelter from the rain and cold
Searching for water to keep me alive...for what?
I didn't know why I kept myself alive
But I did, each day twirling my porcelain memories
in the palms of my filthy enlightened hands
Until one of my marbles slipped out of my palm
It began to roll slowly away from me
My memories began rolling with it
Determined to grasp my marble I chased it
As soon I was in imminent distance it ran...

The Truth about My Sister

I love you more than anything

Although we are separated by 1,100 miles

And 5 years apart

There’s no age and no distance

That can withdraw you from my heart

 

You will never fully understand

How much I adore you and your ways

Everything from your laugh, heartaches,

And millions of boy stories

That I happily listen to for hours on end

 I don’t care how long they take

 

My favorite thing is to stay up

On those late late nights

Whispering in disobedience

Since dad told us to go bed

I wish every night was like that

Nothing has been the same since

 

I never told you this

But I’m slightly jealous of your voice

Okay I lied, a LOT

It’s the beauty that it brings

The perfection of it all

Something that just cannot be bought

 

You’re gorgeous beyond measure

You can ask anybody around you

Not one will disagree with me

You have a perfect figure

Your hair is nothing but ravishing

Honestly, you’re as lovely as can be

 

I don’t know what it is

But for the longest time

I’ve felt like we’ve had an unyielding bond

Just between the two of us

That an age or distance barrier

Could ever despond

 

I’ve told you this one

And I’ll tell you this twice

You are my most inspiring model figure

I hope to become something like you

The way you take on life

With a bubbly attitude and a giggle

 

To end this poem about you

I just want to let you to know

I wrote this with ease it is quite apter

It came a little too naturally

And that I love you dearly

Sincerely, your baby sister<3

 

 

 

 

A Piece of Paper

A child's life is like a piece of paper
in which everybody leaves a mark
You can lead them into the light
or abandon them in the dark

You can teach them a harmony
that they'll sing all life long
or put in their craving hearts
the wrong love song

You can kiss and hug them
while you have the chance
or cripple them with hate
to the point that they cant stand

You can mark them any way
any of the above,
but all they really want
is a pencil that writes love

Strings

Love is a chore. It's a waste of time
Love causes pain, hurt
Love is something to be taught, it's a lesson
People say I crush love,
But love crushes me
Love is difficult and tiring
It's dependent, a favor waiting for the return
Strings are always attached

Love is a privilege
Love is healing and restoring
Love is an instinct, once you change it
Your purpose is to destroy and kill that of a beast
Yes you take love, a fragile thing
And crush it, love only builds, never destroys
Love is beautiful and worth the time
It's reliable and only takes two people worthy to give it
Strings are never attached

Shipwrecked

I am a ship.
Something attacked me
I was drowned and wrecked
and left at the bottom of the sea
the sea of no air
no laughter or end
Why would I be laughing?
I have not one friend
I have no job, money, or face
If I was a fairytale, I'd be the least
There's plenty of beauties
but me, I'm the beast
I have no family
my parents are dead
since I was six, imagine that
no one there to sing you to bed
In my past
I've taken a few glances
At the knife on the counter
I like to watch how the light dances
out of my misery
I've found hope
something besides
alcohol and dope
Believe it or not, I've found love
but I think he is blind
to even look twice
at a light that refuses to shine
I love you with all of my heart
what's left of it anyways
here in your hand
my life lays
You can crush it
like everybody else in my past
Or maybe I can trust you enough
to take off my ugly mask
I'm similar to a ship
wrecked under the sea
But now, I'm in a museum
worth a million,
And everybody wants to be...me

Dreams

Everybody's different, everybody's the same
We all have dreams, and we all have a name
Imagination and dreams, can take you so far
You can be a billionaire, or have a nice car
You can be a free man, and have a happy life
You can have a husband and be the world's greatest wife
Dreams can be visions, they can change you
You can be famous, and have a boyfriend who loves you!
The only downfall about a dream, is that you can follow them whole
But dreams never come true, unless it converts into a goal

Random Haikus

Beauty is a gift
Given to every mirror
Girl chooses to accept

We need to love Him
As he showed his love for us
In form of a cross

No such thing as fate
No such thing as destiny
Only purpose exists

A child's chance at life,
A person's chance at His love
Taken for granted

The mirror tells me
I weight too much, but the world
Tells me be grateful

Visitors

My mama taught me well
especially one fiery Alabama day
when she let me visit a friend's house
it had been my first time away
She yelled, "Be back before supper!
And you know when I serve the table!"
I replied, "Yes mama I know,
but I'm twelve and fully capable."
I visited my friend across the street
and we played until the sun grew weary.
Then suddenly a knock at the door
and the dreadful door's song began to carry.
She gave the woman a generous smile
and signaled me to take her hand
She choked my hand and I knew I had it comin
It was a quarter past eight and that was my last strand.
She waved goodbye to the woman at the door
a smile stained on her face
and when she turned in my direction
her grin was swiftly displaced.
I knew I was skatin' on thin ice
and that thin ice just broke
because when we crossed home's threshold
I was bawling at the first stroke.

I never forgot that lesson
years ago in my childhood times
not even when mama was hospitalized
because her heart didn't beat with the same rhymes.
On her final breathing day
I stood planted by her bedside
I gripped her aged, unstable hand
My attachment to her was implied.
She told me slowly and sweetly,
"Baby, don't hold me so tight.
Everybody answers the final summons
there's no need to put up a fight."
"But mama," I cried desperately,
"you have to stay with me.
You're the glue to my crippled heart,
the reason for my bravery!"
"Then use it now," she replied softly,
"Baby," I stood still awaiting her reply,
"Do you remember that fiery Alabama day?
The lesson about visiting you dared not defy?"
I shook my head breathlessly
"Visitin' is stayin' a while at a place
then when visitin' time's over, returnin' home
to eat supper with the family at the fireplace.
Well baby, my visitin' time has expired
I'm returnin' home to be with my family
flames are burning and dinner is waiting for me
and it's time to return home naturally."

Stripes

My stripes give me a name
they make me a part of a group
they determine who I am
and what I will become

My stripes are my recognition
they help my children
to identify me as mother
as protection and their nurturing parent

My stripes are dangerous
others see them as a threat
they stand as their warning
that I am powerful and ferocious

My stripes are wanted
and in a lot of cases taken
right off my back from me
Well, whats left of me

My stripes give me a price
they are sold to fashion industries
who claim them as fashion necessities
but I claim them as survival necessities

My stripes should be mine
mine and only mine
they belong on my back
and I deserve a chance to live

Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time,
Isn't that how all happy stories go
But this fairy tale ends differently
and trust me you don't know...
Well there was this girl
Born optimistically but changed
Ever since a friend named envy
Impacted her life and started a chain
She was pretty but never told
She was talented ever so greatly
With writing, athletic abilities
And an upbeat lively personality
But others saw her
through a distorted mirror
Her talents minimized to nothing
And her charisma queried
She stood behind her sister
But wanted desperately to be beside her
She stood in the shadows of her glory
Inside her envy started to spur
Her sister had it all
The attention, friends, the boys
Her sister was keeper
Her emotions were played with like a toy
Her sister who always drew attention
Since the first day of middle school
Denied her popularity constantly
And hated her attention and rule
She denied when guys liked her
To make her seem less perfect
But it just pissed the girl off
How could she have such defects?
Guys who seemed interested
Immediately had her attention
Again she found their objective
To ask her sister the question
This girl believes to be forever alone
With having not one experience
Of the comfort and joy of infatuation
Her confidence drained and esteem rinsed
Never had the one compliment
That brightened her day
Or been asked for a hug
Because she was just weird in a way
Nobody believed her and her sister could possibly be related
They looked nothing alike
Her sister was gorgeous
And she was not of anybody's like
Well she still dwells in her shadows
But definitely not alone hardly
Because her companion is beside her
Remember her friend Envy?
I know this girl's story
Like the back of my hand
Because her hand is mine
Writing this poem, firsthand
Unfortunately this is the end of the story
And no it's not a fairy tale
Sorry for the misleading beginning
I felt like this needed to be unveiled

My Heart is For...

My eyes were for watching

Watching what would've been mine

Slip through my fingers

Along with my slight hope

My nose was for smelling

The sweet, refreshing fragrance

Of the flowers I used to receive

From the gentle hands of my husband

My mouth was for kissing

The soft rosy cheeks

Of my smiling offspring

A smile that is unfamiliar to reality

My finger was for the ring

That I once had, but was lost

Due to the stupidity of drunk drivers

And due to the windshield that caressed his skull

My wrist was for the charm bracelet

Which was from my loving mother

The bracelet whose charm was a heart

The very thing that caused her demise

My hands were for lifting

The heavy boxes with all my possessions

From the house that I could no longer afford

The house I no longer have

My arms were for embracing

The one child I called my own

Who brought me happiness

Whose heart ceased to beat for me

My womb was for the children that I could not bear

Therefore do not have

Or the one child I apologize to the world for

For robbing it of her precious smile

My legs were for running

Running from my miserable life

A life I was so ashamed to call my own

One I'd rather end then to endure

But my heart,

My heart is for a God that I do have

A God who can work all things for my good

A God who can change everything and did

Because now...

My eyes are for watching

The blessings that flow through me

And bless others in the process

And bless me with restoration

My nose is for smelling

The fragrance of flowers

That I receive everyday

From the man that calls me his own

My mouth is for kissing

The two angels that I don't deserve

But given to me as a gift

From my Father above

My finger is for the ring

That is secured around it

Promising that only death do us part

And oneness every step of the way

My wrist is for the bracelet

That still lives beside me

Along with the memories

Of my beloved and remembered mother

My hands are for lifting

Lifting all the glory to God

The God who has delivered me

From the world and evil one

My arms are for embracing

The two children I call my own

The ones that I love with all my heart

Who I thank God for everyday

My womb is for the child

That lives there now

And is healthy as can be

And is growing along with my faith

My legs are for running

To every mountain, through every valley

To proclaim what God has done for me

And what He can do for others

And my heart,

My heart is for a God that I do have

A God who can work all things for my good

A God who can change everything and who did

My Trace

There once was a girl
She was young, athletic,
Spirited, and filled with joy
Very accomplished and poetic

She loved things about the world
But unfortunately not a lot
For example she loved music,
But hated crime and whatnot

The thing she loved most
Was to write her own poems and stories
And pour out her heart
On a piece of paper with no worries

The paper took her weight
And the pencil transferred it
From the world, to her shoulders,
And onto her palette

Her form of release
Was different from others
She found comfort in writing
Exactly like her mother

Her favorite subjects to write
Were love, beauty, and fate
And to toss the words carelessly
Caused her heart to ache

With an imperfect family
Came unfortunate situations
But she learned to face them
With a smile and elation

She enjoyed writing this poem for you
With a smile drawn on her face
And yes, this is what it means
To come across a poet's trace...