Can anarchy have empathy?
Yes, in our land of Aussies,
We say no wucking furries,
Always more snags on the barbie,
Still listen to a bit of Acca Dacca,
More burgers and fries from Maccas,
Frocked up in trackie dakkies,
Yes, it's the land of Aussies,
Our form of anarchy has empathy!

In Order.
Everything is good.
Everything makes sense.
Everything is calm.

In Disorder.
Everything seems bad.
Everything seems to make nonsense.
Everything seems tight.

Order - Disorder.
You cannot
Have Order
Before Disorder.

You are allowed to believe whatever you want
Believe that rainbows will always double,
That a *** o’ gold awaits you on the other side
Believe that bad men come quickly and go sooner,
That everyone is happy
Every blade of grass hides an Easter egg
Every rock hides a humble, quiet little home
Every river is made of molten chocolate…

Believe that everyone is safe and happy
Believe that people never do intentional wrong,
No such thing as assault, physical, ******, mental, emotional
Psychological…

Just when you do, make sure you open your eyes once in a while
Ignorance could be the death of you
And if you stayed in such a world…
It’s called being delusional.

And I only want the best for you,
So I wish those bad men never arrive
That those rocks remain a hiding place
Those blades of grass contain secrets of happiness
That those double rainbows have a lucky leprechaun skipping across them
That your “*** o’ Gold” shall never empty to gambling or addiction
And that those chocolate rivers never empty
And, most importantly, that such a happy world remains untouched
By reality,
And you, too, remain untouched
So sweet dreams, compadre,
I’ll see you in reality soon.

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...