lovers lament i have shown to you
time after time
never a second thought
so many second chances
Norm Whether you feel I am or not, I am granting you mercy.

What's your last request?
Sonya Just shoot me now, the faster the better. 011022
depeche bird "...i would do it all again
lose my way
and fall again
just so i could call again
on the mercy in you..."
nyemalenkaya this whole runaround reminds me of that game we used to play as kids... where we would bend one anothers hands backwards, until that person cried mercy.

and this... situation i keep getting myself in is so similar. a week ago i was so caught up in him, and then he said something that hurt me so much, but i got over it quickly, and then i didnt let him get to me. it was great, i was so relieved. and then he comes over tonight, and im all caught up again. mercy! i cant take this...i need him to say something else to hurt me, so that i can bounce back the way i did last week, and put my game face back on.

he said that he missed me this week.
he said that he was happy just talking to me.
he kissed me so sweetly, so gently, like we were finally to that point where it was so comfortable...
i began to cry, and he cradled me.

theres no place to hide...
minnesota_chris please, PLEASE stay away from the wife beaters lmnop! 030308
stevelo fear please have mercy on me
let's just be
the way it used to be
there's a slime in my mouth
that makes me want to shout

how does this sound?
shall we go to town?
i might not be ready
to find you're arm at my footstep
love burn my throat on tea

even empty kept
a small town in her back yard
and let them fall
so squalor is far
the last atemted rate
didn't go so well
let's start this race on mercy's bell

even paced
all around
take a taste
of what i found
the truth that's waiting
here and now

i'll take my place
it's nice to know
how to die really slow
question only
even faced
don't be proud
were love kind
keep in mind
it wouldn't break
your heart anytime
queen of darkness why is it that you van forgive one person a million times, no matter what they do.
you are always the one who doesn't turn your back
the one who helps them when all others give up hope
and yet if you make a single mistake
the person you've shown mercy to so many times
will not even forgive you once
suddenly you won't exist to them
you drown in their silence, and in your own mind you're esphyxiated
Zero The girls at my school have no mercy... I don't act the same as them. I wear spikes and dress in black, I do not wear makeup. I like anime, computers and video games. I'm different. It's not a crime, though they treat me as if I have commited one... 040707
skinny in my line of work
no soul is required.

silence the voice of compassion
hand over the screaming babie's mouth.

twitch and burn
you can numb yourself if you just try.

how do i shut these eyes i see in my head? these beautiful blue eyes and pale outline of a face, shrouded in white. how can i make us both see nothing.

old skin peels away like mica, a winter petal. no resolve. nothing. blurred with perspective. forgotten.
skinny holding_on
Sintina "mercy: to show kindness above and beyond what may be expected of fairness."

Which means mercy is not fair.

Mercy is showing someone kindness beyond fairness. It may be fair to say "look at what you did to me, I will do the same to you."

But mercy is "I'm going to do this for you, despite what you've done to me."

Joyce Meyer: "I was always on my mind"
TROUBLESUM you should always have mercy on the ignorant. that's hard for humans to do 051116
Lia Mercy is not a guage
of what more could be handled,
though it is hoped to be.

Mercy is recognition.
Mercy is a hope,
forever a hope.
A fragile faith beyond sight,
sound, reason and what
continues to be received.

Mercy, my tired heart.
Mercy me.
lycanthrope December hangs behind you and points forward,
a bashful but instructive ghost,
bathed in the holy placid strung out
lights dotting all artifacts of warmth
dusted off from the attic
and erected with dumb duty.

Each light round
and soft like the upturned face
and open mouth of a cartoon choir kid.

There's nothing but mild mercies
to write.
There's nothing but wrapping
and unwrapping.

Memories come in unevenly
through radio static.
The strong taste of gas station coffee.
Standing in crisp wind before a lot full of uprooted pine trees,
and being told to pick one.
A gloved hand holding yours as you walk up the ramp
to a football stadium
full of screaming blurred faces.
A bored mall Santa flirting
with an elf in front of a packed gingerbread house.

A family fights in the street
and a wedding ring's prongs
are flattened
in the tumult,
the diamond is bounced loose
and sits glittering under holiday lights in the snow bank.
And Carol is caroling in short breaths and long wails.
Jeff Washington, the patriarch crosses Delaware St.,
and you've never seen your mean neighbors again.
Pieces on earth, mercies wild.

You're young every one is asking
what you're doing tonight.
You're too hard to love and too easy to be loved by.
Your calendar is open.
Impromptu high school reunions
at the only dive bar
open on Christmas.
You're older, and every one is asking when you might have a moment.
You're easy to love, and send cards saying things like "soon, I hope."
You could go out, but fall asleep holding hands on the couch.

You have a puppy with imploring eyes. You have a wife in seasonal pajamas.
You don't want to write,
you just want to sit for a moment.
Unwrap those seasonal pajamas
to see the soft tan wrinkles where hip meets thigh.

War and the markets are on hold
for two weeks, all important business will be stuffed
unevenly into a box like loose wrapping paper and worn ornaments.

So for a moment all of the lives
we've lived through
are somehow real again in melancholic good cheer.
And the ghosts just want
their favorite chocolate from the gold box one more time,
just want you to recite,
for old time's sake,
that prayer, that classic,
that keeps them shuffling
out of attics and drunk tanks, keeps them sitting with you in traffic
listening to All I Want for Christmas for the thousandth time,

"this year, we'll get it right."
what's it to you?
who go