In dying trees I see rebirth
In a loser I see one who can finish first
In places I've never been
I see places I can get to know
Unknown chapters
Is where my optimism wants to go.

Is it too much
To appreciate the unappreciated
To hold the un-held
To replace pain with love  
And succeed with all cards dealt

I hold dear,
to things too small to see
I believe,
in things too strange to conceive

I place my hands around wounds to heal,
I simply feel for those who cannot feel.

I undergo the struggles within every soul
If only it lead them to their biggest goal

I make the rules to use this plan
I just might be an Optimistic Man

Why did you do it?
    "I wanted to be the cause of death"
Why did you change your face?
"Because I chose not to stop and catch my breath"

What was your family life like?
    "Like most or many"
We're you deprived as a child?
   "My family worked for every penny"

How did you abduct your victims?
"I just told them what they wanted to hear"
We're you ever scared of getting caught?
"I am ruled by my thrill not my fear"

Do you believe in God?
"A man with my sins probably shouldn't"
Would you do it all over again?
"I made my decisions, if I could I wouldn't"


The Man then splashes his face with water,
wipes his breath off the mirror and walks out of the public restroom.

Take No Hostages
        When The World Stands
            Against Your Claims


                      Believe In Yourself
                 Eventually The World Will
                       Witness Your Gains

Admittedly,
                 your scent has passed
                            but still,
                  
                   I stop to reminisce
                 and thoughtfully kiss,
                       the lips I miss

Annabel wore white
as she laid under a Willow
She brought her brown basket
and a comfortable red pillow

She laid in the shade,
writing and reminiscing.
Bringing forth a smile
for the one she was missing.

Her days had been growing longer
and she knew wasn't fearless.
Sitting under their Willow
writing to her dearest

She wrote about his charm
She wrote about his smile
She wrote about his laugh
She wrote about his style

She wrote until the Sun turned off the day
She wrote from her heart and all it couldn't say

Annabel finally stood, picked up her basket and started walking home.
Leaving all her notes and poems, upon his gravestone.