I will paint scarlet skies blue,
Until the blood fades away.
Replace the smog with grass,
Replace tears with trees that sway.

I will sing a cheerful song,
As chaos screeches into the air.
Breathe in oxygen where before
My lungs were bare.

When solitude finds me in life,
I find my own inner peace.
Having experienced strife
Is better than for life to cease.

We are a lucky species, to be so aware,
To not only see colors but to bestow them names.
To write poems about their flare,
To capture ice, to capture flames.

So when I am morose,
And diamonds drop from my eyes.
Time passes, the wind blows,
And I remember what it means to be alive.

Silver boulder nestled upon the grass,
As the surface collects the sheer sunlight.
This stone retains the warmth which does not last,
While my fingers against the hard stone write.

The rock absorbs cold air upon nighttime,
Adapts to each climate it is within.
Diverse foliage surrounds all which doth chime,
Sounds of nature are to beauty akin.

I rest upon the stone, feeling the air,
A force which grasps like a warm and fond hand.
Sunlight filters through the sparse trees, so fair,
While some music cues in my head, unplanned.

This is my place—solace from all truth,
A place which does ignite my life, my youth.

His eyes penetrate the mirror,
And the glass penetrates him back.
Tears rain down his cheeks,
And his semblance undergoes a crack.

His head hits the pillow,
His eyelashes flutter along to dreams.
Mother watches with weepy eyes,
Then sunlight through the window beams.

His heart flutters like a leaf in a breeze,
Excited by the man before his eyes.
For years he has struggled
With this affection he was taught to despise.

Even as his heart tells him what to do,
The boy continues to hide his truth.
It seems there is much to lose,
It seems a way to ruin his youth.

But the secret ails him—
A condition untreated.
Without exploration,
His heart remains defeated.

Destruction clasps onto him, an iron grip,
And his demons come alive.
He begins to hate himself,
Struggling to survive.

Hatred finds him during his adolescence—
Like a deadly blade wishing him dead.
To survive, he learns a simple truth—
His beliefs must be shed.

Now a cloak of happiness hangs from his shoulders—
His boyfriend is in his arms.
He has parted with society’s silly notions,
Of which only dealt him harm.

I am losing years to complacency.
Adrift in a city I don't understand.
Without those I love,
With none holding my hand.

When I wake each day,
The sun is still bright.
When I lie down to bed,
I can still sleep at night.

I do not dream anymore.
Good nor bad.
I do not experience as strongly,
Feelings of happy or sad.

So though the sun rises,
And the night falls,
I am lost in my own chaos,
Trapped behind these walls.

The noise never falters away,
What it is, I cannot say.
It plays in my head like a twisted song,
It tells me what I am doing wrong.

Sometimes it seems to play aloud,
And I question why others don't see its shroud.
But my mind is what is slipping,
The seams are tearing, ripping.

I am not crazy. But I do suffer.
I tell myself to be tougher.
But words are nothing in the face of fear.
They are nothing to stop my tears.

I dream of silence, it seems grand.
I dream of a different time, different land.
Books take me far, I escape it all.
But one day, I might still fall.

Often do men conceal their true emotions,
Because flawed are all of the earth's people.
Movies make men believe risky notions,
Not to shed tears lest they forsake steeple.