when will i stop making mistakes
the ones that ache
the ones that break
the hearts of others
that heart of yours
that scars
when you think of the hate
that you have for this world
and for fate
which a given you a hand of cards
that is the reason for most of your mistakes
when you meet someone
and decide not to fake it
but then they see your mistakes
and decide to make
them larger than life
because your life is so small
so very small and it hurts to realize
that you don't mean as much
to the person you love
to the person you trust
as you thought
as you ought
to mean
your sadness makes
you make mistakes
that ache
that break
the hearts of others
your heart that hates
and makes mistakes

Can you feel the hate
It's storming our gates
Picking up a gun is easier to do
Than seeing another's point of view

A rational mind
Is getting harder to find
Hate is everywhere we look
Can't you see what all it's took

Our children are afraid to go to school
Where hatred is now the Golden rule Bullied and battered
Kid's pick up guns and make things splatter

No where is safe, not the movies,  night clubs, or malls
We are left with the consequences,  and do nothing more than bawl
People are trying to fight hate with hate
Isn't that just great

Can no one see the writing on the wall
Love is the only way to stop this squall
Stupidity and hatred will be our downfall
As we look upon our fellow humans laying in that death sprawl

All we do is cry and wail
Thinking the ship has already set sail
But we can turn it all around,  if we only listen to the call
When will people realize, love is truly the answer after all

She mistook the devils open arms as a warm embrace,
she knew no better
it was the first sight of affection she had ever known,
the embrace was not one of warmth but of desirable pain,
instead of letting go she clung on, inhaling the bitter stench of its flesh.
The devil dug its claws into her back,
breaking bones and tearing the muscle,
until she was its slave,
its puppet.
Slowing as it reached the most important part of her,
pulling her apart gently, touching softly, humming beneath its breath.
It reached into her soul; the warm glow radiating on the devils face.
It released its icy breath,
poisoning her from the inside, the warm glow fading into dark.
Her grip on the devil loosened and she lay back into damp grass, her skin wet with the dew.
Without the light from her soul she couldn't find her way,
she reached out frail fingers as the devil turned its back.
The grass wrapped around her arms and legs with dewy kisses, as she became one with the earth.

"Can i ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"You have to answer honestly."
"Okay."
"Really."
"Alright."
pause
"Am i pretty?"
long pause
looks at ground
"Im sorry! You told me to answer honestly!"
"Im not mad. Thank you."
"Why?"
"Because all my life i have been telling myself that i am pretty. And i needed to hear the truth over my own lies. i needed to wake up. so thank you."

Where are words
do they rest on wings of soaring birds
are they underneath the willow tree
of which i've so often heard

who can say where they may hide
must i travel far and wide
till i finally find the words and tunes
that deserve to be sung to you

where
where are words