When I was in love
With a girl at school
My stomach fluttered like wings of a dove
But she played me like a fool
Soon after we met I gave her a token
The small chain of gold
Wasn't enough she left my heart broken
And that is how the story did unfold
Words of advice for my mate
Think before you act
Careful about your date
It is a proven fact
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
You're the one I can't live without
This fact is true, I have no doubt
I love the way you smile at me
I love the way together we're free
You may be strange and slightly loony
But all this means nothing to me
Because you are who you are
And I can see your beauty
Inside and out
Which is what threw me
When everyday I see you
Till then I cannot wait
To know what we will go through
Are in the hands of fate
The first time that I saw you
I knew I must steal your heart
I hope that it's mine for ever
And that we never do part
You are the one I love the most
And to this here fact I propose a toast;
May we grow old and still have fun
Because I love you and my heart you've won
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
There's just no accounting for happiness,
or the way it turns up like a prodigal
who comes back to the dust at your feet
having squandered a fortune far away.
And how can you not forgive?
You make a feast in honor of what
was lost, and take from its place the finest
garment, which you saved for an occasion
you could not imagine, and you weep night and day
to know that you were not abandoned,
that happiness saved its most extreme form
for you alone.
No, happiness is the uncle you never
knew about, who flies a single-engine plane
onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes
into town, and inquires at every door
until he finds you asleep midafternoon
as you so often are during the unmerciful
hours of your despair.
It comes to the monk in his cell.
It comes to the woman sweeping the street
with a birch broom, to the child
whose mother has passed out from drink.
It comes to the lover, to the dog chewing
a sock, to the pusher, to the basket maker,
and to the clerk stacking cans of carrots
in the night.
It even comes to the boulder
in the perpetual shade of pine barrens,
to rain falling on the open sea,
to the wineglass, weary of holding wine.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 7:56 AM UTC
Words Words
***** and *****
The girl runs away
she slams the door
she takes a knife
and cuts her skin
remembering how ******* up her life has been
she leans to the toilet
throws up to be thin
at school all she has is a grin
She cuts cuts cuts some more
Screaming in pain, blood on the floor
People call her emo people laugh at her face
But they haven't even tried to be in her place
Her dad just died, her mom has depression
her brother has to go through a therapy session
Why can't people see? that grin is a lie
everything's done for her, her life's slowly fading by
Bloods dripping on the floor, she's screaming in pain
she can't eat because that means more weight to gain
She wishes to be perfect she says it's not fair
she says she hears people talking about her hair
She cuts it all off, her soul has been broken
but she never told anyone, her words were never spoken
She takes the rope, hangs herself in the dark
She no longer has a beating heart
Her friends fall to the ground
when they hear the word "She's dead"
Her brother cries as he sleeps in her bed
She is gone
She is done
Just because of people. making fun.
She's buried on a Saturday,
people start crying
all because that one girl stopped trying.
so before judging someone on their weight or their clothes
their laugh their talk their hair or their nose
Just take a moment to realize and see
Everyone is not always who they seem to be.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
They all try to look the same
all try to give themselves a name
pick on the boy who is all alone
just because his identity is his own
what has this world come to?
all this wrong that people do
just for the image they want to show
down the evil path they seem to go
The next person you go to hurt
or try to make feel like dirt
instead of trying to look cool
feel for the guy you make look a fool
A cool identity isn’t a need
let those you bully be freed
Your identity should be your own
A better person you will be known.
We need to start to do something about this it is a major problem that i deal with and most kids deal with
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
Crimson red fills the bowl and I think I'm going to be sick.
With every thing spinning so fast I cannot breath.
Walls closing in and everything fades.
Fashes of light come by, one, by one.
Feeling sleepy not knowing your name.
Not knowing mine.
There it is. my favorite thing of all this,
ah the feeling of pain is gone from before and new form enters me.
Laying here waiting for you to come home.
I open my eyes and see flashes of you and me from before you went.
You walk inside.
You call to me and wait for an answer.
You hear small light breaths coming from the bathroom.
thinking it is me, you walk down the hall with a smile.
the kind that makes your knees go week.
You walk in. Oh god, is all you can think.
I'm trying to look up at you but I can't move.
a cold chill comes over me as you pick me up.
You say we are going to the hospital and that everything will be ok.
You rush me in.
Blood running down.
The nurse rushes you to a bed so I can lay down.
I can hear you asking her something.
But I can't make out the words.
I feel something cold and wet touch my face then my arm.
I feel the ***** of a sharp object go in my right arm.
The nurse says that I need stitches because the wound is to deep.
I feel the thread go in and out through my arm.
And a band-aid go around and around.
After I have slept for two days they let you in.
I can move again and open my eyes.
You say that I got 76 stitches because the cuts were way to deep.
And that I almost died.
I pull off the band-aid and look.
I see over 20 cuts and begin to cry.
You tell me its ok and we will get some help.
About 5 years later.
We have two to deal with ourselves.
Jake and Emma.
A beautiful baby boy and baby girl.
The scars are still there.
Some times I wish I could go back 5 years and change what I did do so I can make it right.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
I knew a girl who liked to draw,
she drew pictures that nobody saw.
She was most artistic late at night,
in the bedroom, out of sight.
She kept it a secret, without giving any clues,
not a soul knew, and her gallery grew and grew.
It was a different kind of art, no paper or pen,
but needed some stitches or bandage now and again.
I took her to the dark and murky river,
which reminded me of my life.
It was then when she rolled up his sleeves,
and showed me her scars with embarrassed eyes.
I laughed at Irony, and rolled mine up too,
"I draw as well", i whispered and stood.
Taking her hand, we jumped into the river,
and rain of white feathers fell.
That's when the demons quited,
and the river turned clear as the sun rose up ahead.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 11:57 AM UTC
When snow starts falling in Canada We know winter games shall begin.
Do we just sit around fireplaces?
No, that would be a sin. Snowball fights daily in our schoolyards,
Till the bell calls them in. Rosie red cheeks on children,
Mittens with scarf’s and hats, Snowmen in every front yard,
Put away are the bats. Indoors a haven for cats.
Ski’s out and waxed, Skates sharp as knives,
Skating rinks are full Of children,
husband, wives. Tobogganing so exiting,
Curling extremely fun, Hockey,
number one. Cold feet, Hot chocolate.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
Whats going through your mind when your running up the side, only 1 man to beat?
When he runs fast you'll run faster, can he take the heat?
Whats going through your mind when the X is open for the 40 yrd touchdown pass?
He catches the ball and you hope this moment will always last.
What are you thinking about when there is a hole the size of Texas on the 28 toss?
What are you thinking about when you sack the QB for an 18 yrd loss?
Whats going through your mind when coach is yelling at you for dropping the ball?
Why is it that on kickoff you got stopped at the first wall?
Coach told your parents before the season that you would most definitely letter.
You gotta learn from your mistakes, always making yourself better.
Your a good player, but you got a big head, you think your the best.
You don't listen during practice or do the drills, why you so different from all the rest?
Whats going through your mind when everything starts to go bad?
What are you thinking about when you miss what you once had?
Your gettin buried in the depth chart, grades slippin, where'd it all go?
You start to drink, thinking, who's gonna know?
You weren't a team player, you were only out there for yourself.
What was going through your mind when you saw there were no trophies on the shelf?
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
Me on the left and you on the right
the way we laid our bodies the start of the night.
My head on two pillows as yours lay on one
tired from the day and all we had done.
One arm under pillow, the other kept you warm
I'd pull you in close during thunder and storm.
I still remember the sweet scent of your hair
As we closed our eyes and I held you for prayer.
The rise and fall of breath from your chest
would remind me of that day that God had blessed.
Your face would go soft and lips would yawn
You'd fall asleep with the television still on.
Middle of the night your house stayed warm
The fan on high was always the norm.
I'd stolen the blanket and kicked down the sheet
The only pillow you had now lay at your feet.
Sometimes I'd wake while there you still lay
I'd creep to your bedside and kneel as to pray.
I would lean in close as if to steal a kiss
These moments of affection are the ones that I miss.
I'd sit and watch while you lay there and snore
I'd sometimes fall asleep with my head on the floor.
You always thought you slept without peep
Instead of counting them you baa'd like a sheep.
Your body lay still 'cept for the rise and fall
Of your beautiful body that lay there in sprawl.
But the most memorable part of those sleepless nights
Wasn't the snoring, the prayer or absence of lights-
It was the way in which your eyes would flicker
Beneath lid and lash I would try not to snicker.
To me it was funny to just watch them move
As if they were dancers stepping to groove.
I could only guess what your mind would dream
Maybe thoughts of our future and how it would seem.
Would it be an uphill battle, a test for all time?,
Or simply steps in a stairwell that together we'd climb.
Most of the mornings you'd wake with a smile
And some you slept in for at least a little while.
But now these memories are just written in line
And filed in a cabinet in the back of my mind.
Memory of you sleeping, snoring, eyes wide shut
Now my heart beating, bleeding, crimson and cut.
Your eyelids would flutter as your eyes would dance
And I'd pray to God to just give me the chance-
To fix what I'd done and to right the wrong
Of the poor choices that I'd hidden for oh so long.
These are the thoughts I now remember the most
the memories in my heart I still hold so close.
Times I sat by your side as night was still grey
All through the morning before dark turned to day.
I'd ask Him to bless this love I'd forsaken
Taken for granted and stole for the taking.
Unfortunately I received a different kind of answer
but you will always remain my eyelid dancer.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 8:08 AM UTC