Charles Williams

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I like to write and help people. I am old enough to know better and young enough not to care. I write about people and experiences in my own life. I have been writing for 12 years and I have a book published called Images of Life. You can check it out
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Is it enough to be rejected? Is it enough to be torn apart? And to lose someone special, It's enough to break a heart? Is it enough to be unwanted? Is it enough to be alone? And to feel all the pain, Is it enough your on your own? Is it enough to say I'm sorry? Is it enough to say I care? And dreaming of forever broken, Is it enough that no one's there? Is it enough to know tomorrow? Is it enough to chance it all? Is trying again really worth it? To take another fall.
To the brave at heart, they will fear no more. They need not knock, on heavans door. They enter the gates of heavan, for being so brave. Giving up their lives, for the ones they save. Their purpose here on earth, ended on one final day. When the passengers on 9-11, gave their lives away. We salute the brave at heart, for your spirit stands. Your soul can now rest safely, in Gods hands. We will never ever forget you, the brave at heart. Because what lies in our future, you now play a part. Modified by ballerz Modified by ballerz
When a heart is broken, it shuts you down. It breaks the ties, from the love you found. It creates a shield, Around your chest. It separates your friends, who love you best. There's nothing worse, than to hear the sound. Of a broken heart, that shuts you down.
He's a poor beggar, makes his living in the streets. He's not much different, than the strangers we meet. But society judges this beggar, because the state of his cloths. Not taking time to find, what the man even knows. He's a poor beggar, what do we care? Do we even know how, he ended up there? If you see this poor beggar, just look at his shoe. Can you tell by his soles, They're not even new. Remember who he is, when he holds out his hand. He's just a poor beggar,we dont understand.
She cries out at night, before falling asleep. She prays for the lost one, and the soul that he keeps. She would give anything, to see him again. She hopes God will protect him, in a world full of sin. As the days go by, the weeks turn to months. She would give up her life, if she could just see him once. Through his nightmares and dreams, she walks by his side. Now heavans gate will stay open, for the nights that she cried. So for all of those children, who are lost out of sight. May Gods love surround you, as he's holding you tight.

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Promises made are sometimes broken. And silent thoughts are never spoken. Dreams are made by ambitious minds. While polished ideas have always shined. Opinions are given in disrespect. To whom who's ways are already set. So if you keep your head held high, and always keep a foward eye. you find that by, each ending sun. The world can never change, what you have done.
He lays the ground , for you to walk, the path you choose to make. Win or lose, its up to you, to choose the path to take. And when the path comes to an end, you'll know the time has come. To see the path that you made, and where it started from.
Born a slave, destined to die. The blackman survives, the question is why? He survives for his freedom, he survives for his name. To recieve what God promised, to be created the same. He survives for his children, he survives for his wife. To give them something better, than a freedomless life. He survives for his culture, he survives for his race. To accept who he is, when you look upon his face. So when you stand there before him, just look in his eyes. You will know the true reason, a blackman survives.

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I wear a mask to hide my face And disappear without a trace. I wear a mask to hide my nose. My eyes are open, to you they're closed. I wear a mask to hide my heart, The world would only tear apart. I wear a mask, I wear it proud. But when I cry, I cry out loud.
Why are you angry? Why are you sad? Why are you crying? Why are you mad? Just look in the mirror, What do you see? Can you say to yourself, "I'm looking at me." Is this who I am, And how I carry myself? Or is this the other person, I hang on the shelf? Why are you angry? Why are you sad? Why are you crying? Why are you mad? So speak to yourself, And ask yourself, "Why?" "Is this who I am, 'Til the day that I die?"
The power of love, fuels the heart and soul. It heats you up, when your blood runs cold. It feeds compassion, throughout your mind. It reverses your thoughts, from cruel to kind. It surrounds your body, to protect the core. And with its taste, you crave for more. And when this power of love runs dry, It travels with tears,each time you cry.

Love can be honest, love can be true. Love can be endless, love can be you. Love can be stern, love can be kind. Love can be hidden, not easy to find. Love can mean everything,or nothing at all. Love picks you up, love lets you fall. But never having someone, to share your love with, is to miss out on God's most wonderful gift.

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Charles Williams


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