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Messages By: freelivin

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August 12, 2005, 6:52 pm CDT

choice

As Doctor Phil says life is about the choices one makes, the option of choice is easy when you are in control. Parenting is a partnership of common sence, it's you against them always, why because kids are smart if they can divide then they conquer. it will always be easier to devide a parent and a step in parent if the biological parent acts guilty, he/she then become the week link with the step in parent becoming the target. Don't teach children to make choices at an emotional time.  
 
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August 18, 2005, 4:27 pm CDT

Defining Your Authentic Self

Quote From: taemanai

Are so valuable. 

  

I sympathise with everything.  None of us want to go through things a second time, but stories are harmless, in the most part, to experience those things we have repressed. 

  

Taemanai 

I dont understand you reply  

Its not a story it was my life, I have not repressed anything, othewise i would not have written about it would I?. If my poem opens one eye to my understanding then to me its worthwhile.  

 
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August 24, 2005, 4:53 pm CDT

i do believe

Is life just a choice, i've heard it said before.  

There are no such thing as accidents.  

Of that i'm not so sure, hindsight suggest there,s more.  

   

A life alert three year old boy, a middle son to be.  

Taken from his squaters home his brother the last to see.  

An accident the couse, burning pain one fee.  

   

where he went, what he'd learn, who he might be.  

Life was mean, lessons by the ream, no love until eighteen.  

Infected by strangers mostly unclean.  

   

Abandonment and tears, future hidden fears.  

His life changed so much , he didn't feel for years.  

A life time of learning, from society labeled peers.  

   

Chameleon like indiference to life's ebb and flow.  

His spirit wouldn't hide but it did get very low.  

Shutting out memories with many a painful blow.  

   

Learning fear no help was near, except his inner ear.  

His baby years infected and often He was blamed.  

Was his life his choice or is life i wonder pre-ordained?.  

  

Where did he get his strength from?, if not from within.  

Did he choose the life he was living in?  

Did he choose to be neglected to be blamed.  

Did he choose to be abused, generally confused?, never tamed.  

DId he choose to be emotionally tested, to be molested again and again.  

Did he choose to carry a faulty gene, with pain.  

   

Tell me Doctor Phil, with the wisdom you've obtained.  

Was his life his choice or is life pre-ordained  

   

composed by me Bill Dempster   

 
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August 25, 2005, 2:48 am CDT

ta for your kind words

Quote From: tammyo1973

What powerful words you write. 

  

I just wanted to let you know that. 

  

As for myself I think life is not a choice. I think it is all mapped out way before we enter Earth. 

  

Tammy 

Thank you tammy, i do think life is choice but also, some what pre-ordained, choice will be responsable for where we/you end up.
 
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August 25, 2005, 4:42 pm CDT

so sad

   I have not seen the show as yet but reading these messages means i need to, so i can be as judgementel as everyone else. As disgusting as it sounds both need help to over come such hurt they feel. As to the children any children, there safety is paramount.
 
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August 25, 2005, 5:10 pm CDT

I understand

Quote From: tammyo1973

Thank you for posting here.

As always your words are powerful!

Have a sunny day
Tammy

 I read your poem and i know how you felt having lived that life myself. I also have posted a poem under my title of freelivin. Our minds are very similar i think. Read my poem let me know what you think. 

  

 
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August 31, 2005, 12:41 am CDT

perserverance

Fifty seven years past, my memory still clear. 

The voice that connected me and dispelled so much fear. 

I unwisely in hindsight dod not always hear. 

Educated by fear my lfe my path life lessons unclear. 

  

But I survived I had adventure I worked hard played late. 

I fought against anger but turned away hate. 

I found what I'd searched for on a blind date. 

I was thirty five years old at last I'd met my mate. 

  

I often wonder was it fate. 

Composed by me Bill Dempster 

 
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September 10, 2005, 1:26 am CDT

in mine as in any fair city

spires and domes, tower bell's ringing jotfull ditties.  

thousands of students riding bikes and strutting pretties.  

yet there is a dark side not many get to see, in the cities.  

   

with an indifferent mother, a blue eyed spoilt litter brother.  

his life so different, not like any other.  

the rules were tough for this little brothers brother.  

   

two paper rounds a boy bill worked, morning and night.  

5.30am his start rain snow or sunshine peppling his bike.  

one shilling and sixpence he'd keep, six shillings my mother would reap.  

   

enrolled in the boy scouts.  

his hard earned pennies he had to fork out.  

if he wanted to get out to be a boy scout.  

   

tiesday and thursday scout mottos were learnt.  

camping on week-ends sleeping on dirt.  

alive at last billy the boy scout was born and about.  

   

5.30 am rain snow or sunshine peppling his bike.  

delivering newspapers morning and night.  

school grades slipped his tired mind not lit.  

   

dodging bullies during the day and my mother at night.  

in any fair city , life is not always pretty.  

another bill had escaped from home to the city.  

   

he learnt very quickly what life was about.   

pedophilesmolesters, deranged questers.  

searched the back streets for kids who were out.  

   

bill, not the boy scout, was finally caught out.  

a car trip, a scream, he escaped, not a dream.  

he told no one about the dangers he'd seen.  

   

5.30am rain snow or sunshine peddling his bike.  

delivering newspapers morning and night.  

billy was a good boy scout, a leader he turned out.  

   

meeting tuesday and thursday and at camping sites.  

so little memory of those better nights.  

pedophile infested, boy scouts were tested.  

   

where were we safe, not at home not at school.  

not with the boy scouts, nor when he was out.  

life was hard, not giving, of that there was no doubt.  

   

5.30am rain snow or sunshine peddling his bike.  

delivering newspapers morning and night.  

lessons to be learnt, life changing. be alert.  

   

the end composed by me Bill Dempster.  

 
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September 10, 2005, 11:40 pm CDT

poem

Quote From: tammy_jo

WOW! 

  

The poetry from the both of you is simply beautiful!!!! 

 

Nice to cyberly meet you Freelivin.  *Smiles* 

 

Hey Melissa P, I went to bed early last night. Sorry I missed your call. ((Hugs)) 

 

Talked to freeByrd this morning, He said that He & I could pick you up from the airport. 

 

 

Wooo Hooo, Yeeee Haw!!!!!    Tammy Jo  

 

 

 

 

Thank you for your kind words.
 
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September 18, 2005, 1:47 am CDT

you can do it

17-3-2004 i quit smoking, i was aged 56 and was smoking 50 a day. What helped me? I wanted to stop, was number one, understanding that nicotine, is out of your system within three days, understanding my habits of smoking and how and why i started in the first place. Those three little days were the hardest, then suddenly i was so easy, my wife still smokes yet i get no hankering to take it up ever again.   
 

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