Our good life sure is there for us, unless we learned some bad conduct in our home as children.
Related quotes
You Have Not Yet Learned to Survive
You have not yet learned to survive.
I've heard you make excuses for it.
As you sit in the comfort of your parents' home.
Who provide amenities,
You use and they condone.
You have not yet learned to survive.
I listen to you pass your judgements,
On my appearance and how I dress.
And how I live alone,
Without complaints of being stressed.
And every bill I pay...
I do that on my own.
And that stress factor?
I have no reason to make that known.
You have not yet learned to survive.
You say you raise children?
Who are more with your folks than they are with you.
I have yet to see you do that by yourself.
Without complaining you have no social life left.
And you say your folks are always in your business.
If you stayed away and took care of it,
No one but you would know what that business is.
But you like to announce you have no life and two kids!
And then you tell me,
I don't know what life is about?
I don't know what it is to sacrifice?
Since I have it made living alone,
With no creditors ringing my phone!
And I am always at home I never go out!
Where 'is' your mind?
At Six Flags?
Or DisneyWorld?
Which one is it?
You have not yet learned to survive.
Not if you are relying on others,
To keep your lifestyle alive!
And I know you want to keep your 'lifestyle' alive!
Along with your siblings!
Who bring 'their' children...
For stops at mom and pop's.
To leave and come back when they please!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sound Of Wings.....
from the bars of the cell,
i learned freedom from the body.
from the underside of the bridge,
i learned home has not a house.
from forty years of working,
i learned the bitterness of the slave.
from the political lies,
i learned that truth cant be bought.
from the books i read,
i learned to reason and question.
from the heroin needle,
i learned the value of life.
from love lost,
i learned how to love.
from doubt i learned seeking,
in seeking i found god to be more.
from the scars on my heart,
i learned to be a man.
from battles fought and lost,
i learned the need for peace.
from discrimination i learned equality,
from anger i learned forgiveness.
from the mirror i learned responsibility...
from the bars of the cell,
i learned the sound of wings!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Learned...
from being homeless,
i learned the value of home!
from being hungry,
i learned the value of being fed.
from being sick,
i learned the value of health.
from being left alone,
i learned the value of love.
from being confined in a cell,
i learned the value of freedom.
from being persecuted,
i learned the value of human rights.
from being an infidel,
i learned to see the face of god...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Of The Night
All that I know in my life,
I have learned on the street
No magic carpet, no genie, no shoes on my feet
Will I wake up from this nightmare?
A fear that chills me to the bone
Though I may be one of many
I feel so all alone
We are the children of the night
We wont go down without a fight
Our voice is strong, our futures bright
And thanks to what we learned from you
Weve grown into the children of the night
Left by my father with only this scar on my face
Told by my mother that,
no, you were just a mistake
I have tasted my own hunger
Sold my body to survive
Some have paid to scratch the surface
But they cant touch whats inside
We are the children of the night
We wont go down without a fight
Our voice is strong, our futures bright
And thanks to what we learned from you
Weve grown into the children of the night
How I long for something better
Than this life I know too well
Lord, I know Im bound for heaven
Cause Ive done my time in hell
We are the children of the night
We wont go down without a fight
Our voice is strong, our futures bright
And thanks to what we learned from you
Weve grown into the children of the night
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've learned
Ive learned that to love someone doesnt have to involve pain,
Ive learned that to have a friend you must be a friend first,
Ive learned that in time youll see your mistakes and learn from them,
Ive learned that to be alone sometimes is the best thing for you,
Ive learned that in order to love a person you must feel loved,
Ive learned that if your wrong admit it or youll never forgive yourself,
Ive learned that your first love will be a part of you and you may never forget,
Ive learned that in order to move on you must fix what was first wrong,
Ive learned that if you ever mess up, you can always start over again,
Ive learned that to be 'cool' doesnt involve pressure,
Ive learned to accept what I have and be happy,
Ive learned that people will come and go so tell the ones you love how you feel,
Ive learned that to respect yourself you must respect others,
Ive learned that your actions always involve consequences whether it be good or bad,
Ive learned that priceless words can mean the world to someone,
Ive learned that sometimes being silent is the best solution,
Ive learned to expect the unexpected,
Ive learned that healing a broken heart involves tears and pain,
Ive learned to see the world in the eyes of others,
And Ive learned that each new day is a day to touch a life.
poem by Carly Almonde
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Welcome Home
(chip taylor)
We acted like children
Now, dont tell me that youre sorry
Darling, Im as much to blame as anyone
Its over and done
Baby, Im so glad to have you home
Welcome home, my baby
Welcome home, my baby
And this time well make it
Well give a love as well as take it
Well let pride be something we have in our love
Not just in ourselves
Baby, its so good to have you home
Welcome home, my baby
Welcome home, my baby
Into my arms
Into my heart
Into my life
Into my life
Forever
cause we acted just like children
Baby, forgive me
I said Im sorry
I know I acted like a fool
Baby, baby, baby please dont take it out on me
Ooh, ooh
Baby, baby
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyone calls it India, but I call it Home!
Everyone calls it India, but I call it home. The place where I grew up. Where I started life, met my first friends. Where life started to make sense. Everyone calls it India, but I call it home. When I am in trouble all my friends are there, but most of all my home saves me from all. Where I learned to speak and learned my ABCs. Everyone calls it India, but I call it home. Where I learned to walk, I took my first steps but then fell, my home was there to rescue me. Where life started to make sense, its not just India, it’s my home. Everyone calls it India, but I call it home
poem by Innocent Angel
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Norgah
Greenland Hotel,
72 sheep and 36 cartons of schnapps!
Practicing,
Commanded,
Wanted,
Highlighted,
To conduct yourself;
Attritude,
Meeting,
Grieved,
To conduct herself;
Agreed,
Speaks,
Perfectly,
To conduct himself;
Angered,
Known,
Reined,
To conduct myself;
Determination,
Communication,
Suddenly;
And like your friend Norgah on the telephone line,
But, i am always what i am.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Exile (Reprise)
You felt
Your head
Was in danger
So you ran,
Running away
From home?
Sweet home
Of yours
Where you were born,
Where you you
Learned how
To be a man, a woman.
You learned the
Rudiments of life
Here in your home.
And you are running
Away, alone,
To a strange land
To a place everyone
Is a stranger.
To seek what?
Peace perhaps
But I ask this:
If your own people
Could bring harm to you
What then could
A stranger not do?
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Conduct
No matter who we are,
All of us are judged...
Based upon our conduct.
And no distance is diminished,
By our conduct.
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
No matter if we're rich or poor...
With doors gold plated or cardboard,
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
We have those moods and attitudes,
But what we do is not excused...
If conduct,
Is not a pleasantry that's seen.
If conduct,
Is perceived to be one mean.
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
And it is conduct.
That beats us up!
No matter if we're kind,
Most of the time.
And most of the time,
We show we are kind!
No matter if we're rich or poor...
With doors gold plated or cardboard,
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
We have those moods and attitudes,
But what we do is not excused...
If conduct,
Is not a pleasantry that's seen.
If conduct,
Is perceived to be one mean.
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
And it is conduct.
That beats us up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Home, Sweet Home
The childhood home wherein children, we stayed;
The cottage old in which we ate and prayed;
The humble garden, on our own, we laid;
The roof that leaked in rain, though rent was paid!
The tranquil place where parents gave us love;
The wonderful compound, where we worked, ‘wow! ’
The trees and plants that grew by heaven’s grace;
The sun, moon, rain, at which we loved to gaze!
That was the lovely place, in which we lived;
The home we kept quite clean and chores were shared;
Our parents slogged for us and deeply cared;
We sometimes fought although amity ruled!
Our father’s strictness taught us good conduct;
Our mother’s fondness disciplined our mind;
The help we rendered, made us feel the warmth;
Home, sweet home, was great despite some faults!
Home, sweet home, brings memories evergreen;
Comfortable, our mother’s house, had been;
Those days were most pleasant, despite our toil;
We lost our hearts upon that very soil!
poem by John Celes
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The Jesuit Father
not one child
has your name
but your name is the name
of all your students
those who learned from your teachings
that life is beautiful
that it has meaning
that it must be lived to the full
not one child
is owned by you
not one child
gives you paternal posterity
but there are hundreds of those
who call you father
those whose lives you touched
those that found a home in your class
those that learned to be one with the world
those that give glory to God
they all have become your children, father.
you have served, and loved them all.
you are their father
and they are your sons, your family.
now they are thanking you and your name
will live and linger.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lonely Children
You go where the wind blows, leading the life you chose
Your destination remains unknown
No one to help you, nobody cares about you
Youre looking for someplace you can call home
Lonely children on the run
Lonely children need someone
Too many questions, you need to answer to them
Your information is so incomplete
You seek directions, you would be lost without them
Dont let them find you lying in the street
Lonely children on the run
Lonely children, lonely, need someone
Someone to talk to
Someone who cares
Someone who listens
Is anyone there?
They may detest you, someday they may arrest you
They stop at nothing to hold you down
You need to be free, but will they ever let you?
They wont be happy till you leave town
Lonely children on the run, run on the run
Lonely children need someone, need someone
Lonely children in the night, cant see the light
Lonely children need a guiding light, dont forget
Lonely children all alone
Lonely children have no home
Lonely children on the run
Hope someday therell be someone
Lonely, lonely children
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Voice On The Wind
I
She walks with the wind on the windy height
When the rocks are loud and the waves are white,
And all night long she calls through the night,
'O my children, come home!'
Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered cloud,
Tosses around her like a shroud,
While over the deep her voice rings loud,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
II
Who is she who wanders alone,
When the wind drives sheer and the rain is blown?
Who walks all night and makes her moan,
'O my children, come home!'
Whose face is raised to the blinding gale;
Whose hair blows black and whose eyes are pale,
While over the world goes by her wail,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
III
She walks with the wind in the windy wood;
The dark rain drips from her hair and hood,
And her cry sobs by, like a ghost pursued,
'O my children, come home!'
Where the trees loom gaunt and the rocks stretch drear,
The owl and the fox crouch back with fear,
As wild through the wood her voice they hear,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
IV
Who is she who shudders by
When the boughs blow bare and the dead leaves fly?
Who walks all night with her wailing cry,
'O my children, come home!'
Who, strange of look, and wild of tongue,
With wan feet wounded and hands wild-wrung,
Sweeps on and on with her cry, far-flung,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
V
'Tis the Spirit of Autumn, no man sees,
The mother of Death and of Mysteries,
Who cries on the wind all night to these,
'O my children, come home!'
The Spirit of Autumn, pierced with pain,
Calling her children home again,
Death and Dreams, through ruin and rain,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Loneliness Is A Hurting Thing
once my heart was full of joy as i grew up from a baby boy.
i learned to love and i learned to hate.
i learned to sit and contemplate.
i learned the abc's of right and wrong.
i learned to fight and become big and strong.
i was taught by my elders or so it seemed
all about life and what it means.
the one thing that they could not teach-for they had not
gotten to reach-that time of life when you're old and gray.
and it seems that life has slipped away
they had gone through life's hall of fame
joys and sorrows they all have gained.
life has only two guarantees-age and death or so it seems.
they go through life and children they bear
to find when they're old 'that kids don't care.
now if you listen while they pray-'you will hear a small voice say'
oh lord take me away-please don't let me live another day.
this loneliness i cannot bear! i have no one with whom
i could share-the joys and fulfillments of yesteryear.
'oh dear god is this to be-not even any company.
no one to speak to -no one to hold
no one to call my very own.
when you reach that golden age, you become
like an animal in a gilded cage.
you pace the floor from wall to wall
wondering if you have the gall.
to start your life all anew and try to forget your solitude.
yes my friends-i'll tell you now loneliness is a heavy crown.
i'll tell you this'my children beware' age and death are very near.
when you stop and turn around-another step you have found.
with life there is no turning back
no one to help pick up the slack.
with pride and determination you move along
head held high-eyes are strong.
to face the challenge of what is to be.
loneliness and hearthaches must comfort me.
poem by Louis Rams
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Children act in the village as they have learned at home.
Protect Individual Rights
To precisely follow set
traditions an accepted
professed social cultural
religious rule of conduct
such actions are perceived
a model of good conduct?
In a healthy society such
behaviour should earn an
individual esteemed title
recognition as a good person
of genuine moral principles
responsibility as a role model.
A fundamental doctrine or tenet
is an agreed upon social contract
a distinctive conduct ruling opinion
a guiding sense of requirements
obligations enforce right conduct
moral principle is honour bound.
A fixed predetermined policy
a standard of lawful behavior
a sound law of moral judgments
decisions based on beneficial principles
ensures guarantees civilized society will
protect individual rights for benefit of all.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Big Rig
By: g. taylor
1975
If I was a road dog baby
All o my songs were true
Reckon Id like my whiskey drinkin
A whole lot more than I do
But I dont know about the good life baby
Not so sure its for me
Id much rather be home rollin with you
Than watchin tom snyder on tv
I wish I was a big rig
Rollin on home to you
I wish I was a big rig
A big rig baby
Rollin on home to you
Now I been to lots o parties
Spent my whole life in a bar
Theres a whole lotta good lookin women out there
Who think I am a star
Drinkin and a snortin
Aint really where I am
If I had my own two ways
Id be rollin home to alabam
I wish I was a big rig
Rollin on home to you
I wish I was a big rig
A big rig baby
Rollin on home to you
-- spoken: ah, go fingers, ya!
Now some day Ill be better
My ramblin daysll be through
I wont have any more gigs to play
Ill be back home there with you
But meanwhile, wait a minute
Whats that thing I see
Its a good lookin blonde with a bottle of scotch
And she wants to go home with me
Shes lookin like a big rig
Rollin on home to you
I wish I was a big rig
A big rig baby
Rollin on home to you
Ya I wish I was a big rig
Rollin on home to you
Wish I was a big rig
A big rig baby
Rollin on home to you
-- spoken:
Ya Ill be home in a few days baby
Have I been good?
Ive been great!
Whoa!
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sponge (Cinquain)
Children
The sponge of life-
Taking in all they see
Absorbing all that's heard and done
They'll be.
...... .......................................
'Even a child is known by his actions, by whether his conduct is pure
and right.' (Proverbs 20: 11)
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Come On Home
(tom springfield)
The springfields
Don't stand there wailing "got no place to go"
Come on home
You look at me like that and i can't say no
Come on home
Well, i know you done me wrong
And i know i should be strong
But, i cried the whole night long
So, come on home
Come on home
Tell me baby, must you be so cruel?
Come on home
You treat me just like i'm some kind of fool
Come on home
Well, i know you let me down
I was glad when you left town
But, you're good to have around
So, come on home
Don't run away now
Come on home
You got your way now
Come on home
A-hear what i say now
Come on home
Come on home
When you smile at me well i feel so good
Come on home
I can't be mad at you like i know i should
Come on home
Well you took me for a ride
And i thought my love had died
Still i need you by my side
So come on home
Come on home
Come on home
Come on home
Come on home
Come on home
Yeah, when you smile at me well i feel so good
Come on home
I can't be mad at you a-like i know i should
Come on home
Well, you took me for a ride
And i thought my love had died
Still, i need you by my side
So, come on home
Said yes
Come on home
Sit down
Come on home
Come on home
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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