It’s a lovely morning
Though the clouds hang low
The world a grey canvas
And sprinkled with snow

It’s a lovely midnoon
Though the plants are gone
And the birds flown south
Along with their song

It’s a lovely evening
Though the air is cold
Darkness taking over
The setting sun grown old

It’s a lovely nighttime
Though the stars do sleep
And the howling wind
In every crack it creeps

It’s a lovely fam’ly
In this cozy home
Laughing by the fire
Where seeds of love are sown

I want to smile through the tears,
But I haven't cried for many years.
I don't want this numbness anymore;
Is that too much for me to ask for?

Thinking I was gaining control,
I locked away my precious soul.
You don't realize what you're choosing.
When you numb the pain, you're truly losing.

If you shut your eyes against the darkness,
You also shut out any brightness.
If you smother your feelings and **** the pain,
You'll never feel real joy again.

Whisper away the waves,
Sing slowly to the sea.
Put love in a glass bottle,
And send it here to me.

If other shores should find it,
If it's cushioned in their sands,
I hope the chorals crush it,
Unless it reach these hands.

But what I wish and what will be....
Is chosen by the changing sea.

A morning shore, my lover's eyes
Drift into the morning skies,
And honey clouds above his face
Swirl ever round with wild grace.
A gentle touch upon his hand
Reveals the treasures in his sand.
Thus beaming with a wond'rous glow,
Is the gorgeous smile I know.

Lest his surf and sea and sky
Be lost in the ebbing tide,
He built a fortress strong as stone,
The outer walls of his bone.
(Unless there was some higher art
That formed his body and his heart--
God's handiwork at its best
For his gentle soul to rest).

Of handiwork, the best creation:
His hands at work! My adoration
Is great for those, which enduring
Winter snow and summer pouring,
Were weathered like white oakwood.
And while his handsome hands could
Wrestle (and so hard they toiled!),
Their touch never could be spoiled.

Their touch speaks of so much more
Than all the waves that hug the shore,
Than all the winding prints of feet,
Than all the gentle winds that greet
The sunshine caught among the boughs,
Than all the swirling sand in rows,
Than all the shells the bright beach wore--
Their touch speaks of so much more.

My lover's glance, and all his looks,
Are worthy of a hundred books,
Yet even such could not convey
How precious they are. Though I may
Illustrate something somewhat near,
A shadow is barely right or clear.
But one thing I see clearly:
We're "rab ne bana Di jodi."

Mary, lead the way and I'll follow,
Carry the light and lift my sorrow.
For I know this wretch will never rest
Until I lie in your Son's loving chest.
Mary, mother most dear, most blessed!
Until I lie in your Son's loving chest.

What am I doing with my life
Going nowhere with my lies
Hiding envy behind the door
Holding anger and even more

I want my friends just for me
That's no place that love could be
I count others' gifts instead
And think too much inside my head

I can't remember when I last
Had a true and honest laugh
Could be their fault, could be mine
I'm a misfit - and that's fine

I just wish I had the smarts
Or lack thereof, a social heart
To be myself without the fault
But make friends as sweet to salt

Each night before I go to Sleep,
A decision has to be made in favor
Of one method or another
To help make that precious name a reality.
Some nights I try the one hand.
At least then my tossing and turning is natural,
And if at last I decide to embrace the Open-Eyed World,
I can.
Other nights I try the other.
The drugs paralyze me for endless hours,
But at least amid my nightmares I'm not conscious
And the next day I can think that I've tasted Sleep.
Every night the decision must be made, but I've come to realize,
Equal mass of skin and bones, neither hand weighs better.

I'm weary of this twisted world
Lacking virtue and moral
No one's perfect but this extreme
Is a nightmare, not a dream

Despair is closing in around
Not a person have I found
Who wants person over flesh
Everyone's demanding ***

Many years have I spent
Watching for someone unbent
But such a soul I cannot see
In such a world we are not free.

I hate myself so much for this

I'm in this vicious cycle, see
The current pulling under me
I feel so numb and lost at sea

Sometimes in the ebbing tide
You can hear my lonely cry
Yet all the boats that come by
Leave me there alone to die

I hate myself so much for this

Some ships seem to understand
And come close with outstretched hand
But just to feel the wind and sand

The truth is, the fault is mine
I knew the dangers of the brine
But ships beyond the shoreline
Drew me in like fishing line

I'm feeling so bitter, so ugly.
These gross feelings that torment -
        Like an addict,  I welcome them,
But reluctant, and hating every second.
  I find I cannot let go
Of the passions that I grasp.
             I'm an evil soul, inside and out.
Oh help me, God, I am so lost!
Lost in the confusing swirl
Of right and wrong and grey.
The truth is found by reason,
               But the same can justify hate.
Oh, my God, oh, my God:
I beg for all the things to *****
And out, out, to go and free -
Give me liberty from this plague
      Which is me.

I'm just a nobody
in this world where I had friends.
I was loved by somebody,
but it was all inside my head.
  What is real,
and what's inside my brain?
  Doesn't matter
- it comes to all the same.
So I look out the window,
Searching the dark skies.    
  I see so many faces
that smile with blank eyes.
  Is it all inside my head?
Is it all inside my head?
  Why do they say I'm alive
when I know I'm dead?

I wrote a song for you
But I forgot the tune
When I looked into your eyes
Ev'ry thought fleeted my mind

I never did believe
In something like you and me
Such a love seemed
Like something from a dream

But now here is proof
I was wrong in all I knew
Because our love is true
In everything we do

When we're sitting here together
Me and you forever
Our hearts in harmony sing
Yet no one says a thing

You know my heart was broken
When "be mine" was spoken
Because it beat so hard
That it fell right apart

No chains could contain
No person put to shame
Our thumping hearts in sync
Love flowing o'er the brink

Now this song is done
But there is another one
Always in the air
Around the one I care

I don't know how to deal with life;
It seems I cant do anything right.
While one moment is full of bliss,
The next is tinged by bitter kiss.

When things are going beautiful,
I find wrong and ruin it all.
Where should I draw the line?
I thought my standards were just fine.

It's hard to be morally strong
When people say I'm doing wrong
By expecting them to be good,
While deep down I know I should.

All that kept her going then
Was to look forward to when
She could finally go to bed
With the Nightmares in her head.

No Horrors that plague the night
Could compare to those of her life.
"Truth is stranger than fiction"
And Reality worse than dream strife.

The minutes ticked much too slow -
Or maybe her heart beat too fast,
But either way it seemed her life
Wouldn't end and wouldn't last.

And so she counted on the days
(Or rather the phases of the pain).
Time went on and yet stayed still;
No change took place to make Time real.

The Woman found she couldn't tell
If she had died and gone to Hell,
Or if Hell had come to Earth,
Though neither place could be worse.

At last sweet Death heard her cry,
As her grave seems to imply.
Or maybe she is wandering still
Tied down by her twisted Will.

Poor Ben could not last a verse;
The more he went, the worse and worse.
The Lad came in the door each night,
But never lingered in his sight.

When Ben found one, he'd lose two,
And so the Mondays quickly blew.
A line was had, but not before
Poor Ben had scrambled all the more.

Two months went by with fruitless din.
The Lad went out when Ben came in.
When at last Ben held him tight,
He vanished straight from our sight.

Then Ben stood still (we held our breath).
A verse! Then two! Now three! -- A rest.
All eyes on him with hopeful gasp,
And Ben said all… except the last.

A man reclining in a chair -
His legs straight out, his hands in hair.
What toppled this tree such that
He landed in a way like that?

Up and down, his head it goes,
And now I see his eyelids close.
What droning tune did he hear
That sent him to someplace not here?

But at last his chin finds rest
On his slowly heaving chest.
What luck the teacher did not see
A slacking student such as he!

There stood a tree, stiff and brown.
Its leaves were gone, its branches down,
And where the top of it did bend,
There sat a mossy, knobby end.

And yet, for what the tree had not,
"A handsome one," is what I thought.
Although I couldn't reason why,
"A handsome tree," is what thought I.

But then to much surprise it seemed
That against the wind it leaned,
And when the wind ceased to blow,
The tree went moving on like so:

Not waving, nor falling, nor staying put,
Uprooting and planting its own foot!
But glasses quickly showed to me,
A man where there'd been a tree.

I'd heard there was a secret food
That someone made to increase their mood
But you don't really care for taters, do you?
Well, it goes like this:
First salt and shake, then garlic cloves and parsley flakes,
Then add some milk to those mashed potatoes.
Mashed potatoes, mashed potatoes...

Sometimes in life we must go our sep'rate ways,
And I hope you understand that that's ok.
I wanna thank you for all you've done for me,
And dont you ever say that you're sorry
'Cause there's only one thing I want to be:
A smile-worthy person in your memory.

"Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened." - Dr. Seuss

I look out the window: the sill is the brink
Of my depression, and I think
That maybe I have a chance to escape
If I jump out and run away.
But some things may never change--
I'm always failing and always the same.
Running away won't make me whole
'Cause my demons lie inside my soul.

Mama doesn't get me. She never will.
She's never had to stand on this window sill.
I tried to explain all my emptiness
But there's no rhyme or reason to any of this.
Mama doesn't get me. Neither do I.
We're two broken people and stuck inside--
She in her nightmare, and I in mine.
Despite what we're saying, nothing is fine.

This window that sounds like a mad man's dream
Is much more real than how happy I seem.
Sometimes I laugh till my sides ****** ache,
But in my empty heart, it all feels fake.
Sometimes I smile from ear to ear,
But nothing drowns out my sickening fear.
I'm always stuck standing, looking out that glass,
My life a sh-t movie, my acting first class.

As I look out the window, I often entertain
The idea of joining the fast falling rain.
I never will, but the thought lingers still,
As I bang my fists on my ****** window sill.

You ask me too often not to care,
"Why do you sit all day and stare
At the shining sea and ships out there?"
But I respond: "No reason."

You ponder again without ado,
"Surely there is something true
Which you find in the water blue?"
But I reply again, "Not so."

Yet each day you do persist:
"Some beauty must have softly kissed
To make you look so long at this!"
But I return, "Not so."

But you won't give up your quest.
"What mystery comes at your behest
To wake your quiet soul from rest?"
But I answer, "Nothing--

"--And before you can ask more of me:
Nothing! And Nothing will there be!
Shouldn't I be asking things of thee?"
And you say nothing.