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untitled Jan 2015
Every day is a constant struggle
Between reaching out and holding in.
The desire to touch, to feel your skin
For you, I commit sin.
But in the end I know I cannot
You've moved on, and I, you've long forgot.
Then why, I ask myself do I sit here,
And allow you, in my head, to appear?
The loves long gone and the feelings have ran out
But at the sight of you my heart still scurries about.
It's because you and I, my dear,
Had grown so near,
And by leaving, you've ******* me in the rear.
2 minute write
untitled Jan 2015
There once was a boy who loved the moon,
He wasn't liked the rest.
For him, the girls would swoon,
Devotion proved a test.

The girls would come and go,
All with broken hearts.
"I hate you, boy" he said, "I know",
Bluntness was his art.

Then she came and made him feel,
He knew it'd be his doom.
But when they kissed, it felt so real..
He considered becoming a groom.

Then one day she decided to leave,
The boy didn't know what to do,
Without the girl he couldn't breathe.
He thought she felt that way too..

Finally one night, he figured it out,
But it wasn't something to boon.
He was sure, without a doubt,
She was the girl who loved the moon.
What goes around, comes around.
untitled Jan 2015
If people were books, she would be the velvety red hardcover with a cursive, golden font slowly accumulating a fine layer of glistening silver dust onto the highest oak wood shelf in the oldest library around. Few would ever get to see her beautiful cover, the elegant golden casing on each of her pages, and even those who were privileged enough to lay eyes upon her pristine binding would shy away from the read, out of fear for the length, depth, and density of the words artfully casted into her pages. Very few could comprehend the journey on which they'd embark by opening her cover, and none could see past the artful yet innocent deceit of her forward. For it told a happy, innocent, and nearly boring story intended to ward the less invested readers off. Often it worked. However, there was one who had the suspicion that between her covers he would find more. So he continued to read, he consumed the stories of averagely happy times and drunken parties, yet as he read he accidentally bled bits of himself into her pages. In return, she revealed to him her darker chapters, full of pain, agony, and depression. He began to understand what had compelled him to continue, not the elegance of the binding nor each pages' golden encasing, but the alluring scripture that was artfully laid into the bones of every page. He read on, and fell in love with the story, he paid no intention to the passing of the seasons outside his room. As long as he had his book, he was absolutely content. Unfortunately, no matter his ignorance of the passing of the seasons, pass they did, until alas he fell upon the last page. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he knew what to do. He reached for his pen, and he began to write. Her final chapters wouldn't be full of pain and agony, instead her wrote a tale of love and joy. Together forever, him and his book.
It's getting harder and harder to write. The Medication is making it hard to think, much harder to write.
  Dec 2014 untitled
Scott Madden
Einstein's Relativity tells us that time slows at fast speeds,
So much so that it stops when travelling at the speed of light.
As you look up at the stars tonight think of this:
The photons that travel across the universe to your retina,
Are created in the depths of a star and destroyed within your eye,
In the same instance.
untitled Dec 2014
The first sip was sweet, and tasted like Spring

I was invincible, with you at my wing.

Effortlessly, your company would light up my world,

Under the elm tree together, we’d dance and we'd twirl.

I felt so protected, in the warmth of your embrace,

For an eternity, I would press my lips to your face.

Constantly under the influence of your love,

With you, I felt more peaceful than the dove.

Right when I thought the enchantment couldn’t end,

You did took your life, a wound no one could mend.



I awoke the next morning, a throbbing in my head,

And all I could think of, was you laying there, dead.

Oh how abruptly, you had ended our love,

Now crippled, on the ground, lie our little dove.

No longer I danced, too and fro,

Without my partner, I had no where to go.

Nearing the end, along came fall,

And not returned, was a single call.

I left voicemails, every morning and night,

Just to hear your name, was a temporary delight.

The leaves had changed color, and now hit the ground,

And I realized your heart, was not going to sound.


The snow began falling, along with it Winter.

I couldn’t get you out of my head, you mental splinter.

I was no longer drunk, and the hang over was over

All energy was gone, I was drier than stover.

I was done waiting for you, all patience was gone,

Life had been ended, the final card drawn.

Then I realized, while I awaited you, you were waiting for me

From far above, atop the elm tree

Coming to you, I was on my way,

Waiting here was where I had gone astray.

So I reached into my drawer, and pulled out the gun,

Our lover was not over, it had just begun.
A lost teenage lover, with a dream of forever.
untitled Dec 2014
Our Guardians "Stand tall"

Our Guardians reach out to "Break our fall"

Our Guardians are here to "Protect"

Our Guardians deserve our "Respect"

But somewhere along, we've gone astray

And it seems, the life of minorities we pay.

We no longer look up at out Guardians, who we once adored

They look down upon us, creating those feelings we abhor.

Instead of reaching out, and breaking our fall

They bring down the baton, and our rights stall.

Our Guardians were chosen, their duty to protect

But it seems a majority is experiencing neglect.

"Respect your Guardians", says a whisper in our ear

But in the Guardians, we have begun to fear.

Our Guardians are now, creating massive harm

Regardless of whether or not we bear arms.

A man was choked to death in New York

But we must remain calm, we cannot raise the pitch fork.

We must follow the words, of our wonderful King

From hill to hill, let freedom ring

Our Guardian's freedoms, we must respect

And urge in return, ours they protect.

To end racism, and bring on equal rights

We must use our voices, it is pointless to fight.

Looting and rioting, we will see no achievement

We must peacefully protest, change will come, believe it.

Equality is near, I feel it in the air

Our voices tremble not, I feel no despair.

We are on the verge of righting our wrongs

We look to the Gospel and, in song,

We unite our voices, and bring forth change,

Equality for all, the idea is not strange.

Continue the journey, my brothers and sisters,

Raise your voices, fall not to whispers.
My personal views on the issue and racism and police brutality in the United States. Dr.Martin Luther worked hard to get us where we are now, but the process isn't complete. We must continue to, in the name of equality, continue our peaceful protest. Get inspired, make a difference.
untitled Dec 2014
Life's too repetitive

You know?

We wake,
Shower
Go to school or work
Come home
The same routine
Day in and Day out

Can't help but ask myself

Is this all there is?

So many distant people,

that I'm just passing by

On a rock

In the stars

In an infinitely large galaxy

Is this really all there is?
Not exactly a poem, just some recklessly scribbled thoughts on life and it's seemingly everlasting repetitiveness.
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