I toss and I turn
Thinking of everything
And nothing at all

So many people
Up there floating
In the sky
Crying out fr help

I believe
Death is the only
End to this pain

sanity has lost it
and I am yet to find
tranquility despite
tragedy of this
hopeless mind

your eyes, your smile
just the thought of
you weakens me
yet I know this is
useless, helpless
can't you just see?

I wonder how long
will I stand
trying my best
to make things
work in hand

maybe, just maybe
losing you is for the best
but maybe, just maybe
I hope you'll come back--
back in my arms again

Thick, hot carelessness
The air ripped from my chest
Sticky with disappointment
This is only for the best
As you gracefully gloss over
My lingering words which only ever
Try to hold such meaning
Seemingly to myself
This ongoing drought
Void of all emotion
I have little doubt
Of comprehending notions
With heart in hand I walk away
Painfully forcing every step
I don't look back because I know
This is only for the best.

This is my story,
so it will be.
Open your eyes,
but don't cry for me.

Started at five,
dad home from work
I had to grab him a beer,
oh, what a ****!!

Everyday he came home,
more drinks would follow,
off came the belt,
making me hollow.

Yelling commenced,
my mom on the floor,
"What did you say,
You ******* *****! !"

My screams were but silent,
in my own empty head.
Get out of this place,
wished I was dead.

Many years did follow,
of abuse on the walls,
Pounding and slamming,
No crying no calls

I never did laugh
and never did smile.
Just went to school,
getting by for awhile.

I went to school,
wanting to learn.
Instead of friends,
I just got burned.

I wasn't the fastest,
or even the smartest.
I sat in the back,
next to the kid with the glasses

First came the names,
I thought was a joke.
but the mood all changed,
internally I choked.

When the games were played,
I was picked last,
standing by myself,
it was always a laugh.

Names grew meaner,
as tall as the lad,
the hits came with it
I knew it was bad.

Black followed blue,
on covered up arms.
Didn't show my teacher,
I was afraid of the harms.

I had few friends
and they didn't even know.
The torture, that beset me,
hidden down below.

Each day, home from school,
I cried in my room.
Isolated and degraded,
Embedded in my tomb.

No one would be believe,
No teacher or a friend,
Had no where to turn to,
Felt like the end.

Teen life was a disaster,
living in solitary.
Wanted to change my life,
I joined the military.

This is Me.
The final part.
From one broken home,
to one broken heart.

Hidden behind the mask
of the old porcelain doll,
cracked and tortured.
I have seen it all.

Uncombed hair
and clothes that are rag,
Behold my feelings,
I am but sad.

No one would listen,
during my youth,
when I was a young man
or drinking my *****.

The alleys were dark
with walls caving in.
Hearing voices inside me,
that's where it begins.

Sitting alone,
by one candle light,
I saw pen and paper,
blown by surprise.

I started to talk,
with the pen in my hand,
writing muse on the pulp,
trying my hand.

I was confused,
my words were a mess.
To me, there just jumbles,
I must confess.

I read them back,
and started to sigh,
Because this is my sad story,
It made me  cry.

He, who controls his pen and his poetry.
Controls the world.

Show me Silence and I will make it scream.
Enjoy my muse, because this is my dream