SnarkyVision rants are brought to you as a public service through the generous donations of SnarkyVision Productions. *SnarkyVision is a trademark of Silkwalker Designs and exists solely as a mechanism for venting Web's spleen*.

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

--Langston Hughes

In the red
All the cruelty dealt
To one big soul
In the black
All the hiding from
The pain in the dark
Now as I go into battle
I am armed for the fight
With the knowledge of ten men
Strength of nine
As I walk through fire
I am shielded from the flame
Although the guilty parties
Take no blame
Don't try to tell me there's no
Reason for any moment in time
Every memory of mine
Those years are lines of
Color on my face
My past is warpaint
The past is warpaint
Every line
Represent the death of naivete'
In the air
Every eagle drop one feather
Just for me
There is a deafening warcry
And it's ringing in my ears
It is drowning out floods
Of noisy tears
On the path behind me
I leave many gravesight
Every tombstone
Mark one conquered night
So don't try to tell me there's no
Reason for any moment in time
Every memory of mine
Those years are lines of
Color on my face
My past is warpaint
The past is warpaint
Don't try to tell me there's no
Reason for any moment in time
Every memory of mine
No those years are lines of
Color on my face
My past is warpaint
The past is warpaint
Don't try to tell me there's no
Reason for any moment in time
Every memory of mine
Those years, they're lines of
Color on my face
My past is warpaint
The past is warpaint
And I fight to the death
I fight to the death
I fight to the death
I fight
htaed eht ot thgif I


I wish I could claim these words as my own, but they are the creation of Happy Rhodes. If you don't know her music, you should.