In a well-lit room in the back of the house were where they were sitting. Don Mateo Troia sat behind his large oak desk. His family was true to his name. He had become the head of his la Familia by pimping hookers on the streets of the west coast. He had many brothels under his protection from the top of Washington all the way down to the bottom of California. He had made a name for himself mingling with the politicians...
Gentle archesReddish brown Traced alongThe barest sound As my fingerStrokes your brow Each touch lends strengthTo hope struck down Waxy finishWiry feel You close your eyesAs I set free The wearinessThat chafes your soul A heart so fullIt overflows Then bleeds its lifeFilled, drained, by turns With each fresh joyAnd each fresh hurt Tumbled mixElation, doubt Some days such grayThen sun bursts out And at each turnI stroke yo...
I cried again todayI do most days as I awakeQuestioning why I stayTethered unhappily to lifeTears and panic set inI struggle and thrash aboutTrying to quiet my mindI listen to the calming soundYour voice whispering the wordsCalming the inexplicable anxiety I feelI hear those names and feel safeTears and shaking soon abateI remember why I wakeHearing the names of those I madeI try to thank you againYou shake your headJust...
