The sun is out,
The sky is blue.
There's kids at the park,
There's people in the dark.
I sit down and I spark, I spark and I spark.
The cigarette in my hand,
The blade filled with black in the other.
Standing with his brothers;
He walks with his bald bowling ball shaped head;
shoulders back,
Chest prideful,
Head up high,
Someone gonna die.
Hundreds and hundreds,
Killed and tortured
Shotguns to the face,
Knife wounds to the body,
Machete to the neck,
Headless.
DECAPITATED,
His thoughts are reckless;
see them growing as his hair begins to grow;
One year later,
It's night time,
The sky is black,
The children are asleep,
The adults are drinking tea.
Me?
I'm telling you a story,
Of a kid who was left alone in the dark.
Monsters under his bed,
No weapons but a flashlight to keep them away,
Monsters in the closet,
Monsters in the mirrors,
Monsters from a cave,
Monsters in his head.
Monsters are DEAD.

Flashlight on the floor,
Silence, then a creaking sound at the door.
A man walks in,
This man is his dad,
"Son, you forgot your Teddy bear."
the kid was happy,
The kid was fast asleep.

Little Does he know,
These Monsters are real,
These Monsters are everywhere he goes.
These Monsters are outside,
Going around attacking the innocent.
These Monsters belong in a cage,
So the bald Brother grabs his blade,
Puts the monster in it's cage;
he feeds the monster everyday,
He makes it stronger,
He waits and he waits.
For the monster to be strong enough to break free,
And when it is,
He'll keep it's head,
For everyone to see.

Some people are crazy,
Some people have self control.
Those who struggle for self control
Are crazy in their own mind.
No one could see it,
And now a days people could only understand What they see.
The only problem is they are blind,
Their amount of patience is killing them.
Be patient, and let things come to you.
Be patient, and let everyone else eat off your plate.
Be patient, and give whatever is left to others.
So that you will have nothing left,
And be patient,
Because if you aren't, you will come to the mentality where no one will cone to help you.
I guess in this world,
We cant help but to let ourselves think that even our own family will let us starve.

It's a ****** feeling to come to think this far,
It's a ****** feeling to give and deny yourself.
Isn't it ******,
How we can be so selfishly aware of the way we feel?
For that reason,
**** the way I feel,
And also **** everyone.
Because when there's nothing left on your plate and you have nothing left to give,
They will in no doubt feed off you like cannibals,
Until you have nothing left to lose.
And What will you say?
"I'm trying to understand these people."

Ask yourself What this story is about,
ask yourself what the moral is,
And you will become afraid of the reality,
You will deny your thoughts,
And you will tell me I'm wrong.

If you come to the conclusion that people will only keep taking,
And your patience is too much,
Then you are the same as I am.
The same as everyone else.

As the same as they do,
You will take from their plate,
And when there's nothing left you will eat them,
Because of your selfishness.
If this world was any different people would be offering you to take of their plate every single day,
Would you?
or will you make the decision to keep hanging on to your pride,
If so.. go ahead.
Keep trying to understand.


"

Three years ago..Sleeps

I see simple things,
Things we wish weren't so simple.
Maybe people just wish they weren't so crippled,
In our minds we feel 1000 years old.
In our hearts we can only grow so much.
With every heartbeat we seem to dry up on the inside.  
Whenever our heart skips we seem to feel there's something missing.
We hide, and we hide.
You aren't hidden,
I can see right through you.
I used to see your weaknesses,
But now I'm just as blind as you are.
Maybe I'm the only one whose hiding,
Maybe I'm the one whose scared,
Maybe I'm just a ******* *****,
Maybe I replace that **** with hate.
Maybe I am some cocky ******* who is over confident and self centered.
Maybe I am, or will always be somebody you look down on no matter what.
The only problem is,
How would it feel to have your knees broken by this person,
And you can't help But to look up and say, "I'm sorry, I was wrong."
the thing is, I don't need your apology.
These people are a joke,
And it's okay because they'll end up choking on their tongue.
My wife told me,
"It's alright to be mean sometimes,"
it's either I took that too seriously or she didn't know what she was saying,
The next week she said I'm not the same person she fell in love with three years ago.
So I say I didn't think there was such thing as love at that time.
And it all happened three years from now,
And three years later
I guess I'm back in the same place I was,
Three years ago.
Still no such thing.

"I'll Be that guy for you, I'll be whoever you want me to be.  The one to love you, the one to break you, the one you cry for, the one you will always think about, but as long as I am all these things -  No matter how much I have broken your heart, I will be what you want me to be, I will be your prisoner, the one you can't let go, the one you'll hate, the one you'll wish you've never met, the one you will talk to your friends about.  And if you ever thought you were the one to break mine, don't forget that I never had one to begin with.  Which is why I'll forget the fact that you ever even existed."
True Pride
Dedicated to a person I know.

We see hate every day,
And we relearn it every day.
Our parents tell us to love everyone,
No matter how much those people hurt us,
Even our enemies.
We try it,
Then others teach us what it feels like to be hurt;
And we learn that its okay to suffer because of others.
We dont like this feeling,
But learn to not treat others the way they treat us.
Even if our dads beat us,
At the end of the day we learn that we must teach them  how to love us.

Then comes the day,
When no one is there to remind you how to love.
You aren't reminded that its okay to suffer for others.
Then comes the day you finally hurt someone,
When you hurt that person you look into their eyes.
You are able to see your face when all those people hurt you as if you were looking at a mirror.
Youre looking at yourself through that person,
you remember learning that its okay to suffer for these people,
Because these people are hurt more then you are.
You realize that we never stop learning how to hate.

So when I grow up,
I will learn to hit my son.
And do you know what I'll tell him?
"Come here my son,
Let me teach you what its like to hate,
The way my parents taught me."
And with the look on his face,
your son,
Will be the one to teach you what love was.