There’s a piano in the corner;
It’s lonely tonight.
It thinks that it’s worthless,
Sitting there without a player,
And it’s one joy in the world,
Making notes flow
Through open ears and minds,
Making the people dance,
And be merry,
But the music won’t come.

It sits there in the home,
Waiting for a master,
To play through its scales,
To run his hand over its keys,
To make it feel warm,
And precious,
And cherished as is.
But the master is gone,
Leaving it to grow dust.

The master left long ago,
Jumping the train to Chicago
To go where the real talent lies,
Where other pianos play,
Nicer tones and smoother melodies,
Where he can make a new life,
Among the stars and the bars,
Leaving behind all the old.

So the piano sits there,
And out of sympathy,
I go to it,
And play a few notes.
Not like the master would,
But still better than none,
And it says a happy
“Thank you”,
As I run my fingers down the keys

Crawling upon the ground,
Black specks like train cars
Fall in line
One by one
Carrying their loads
Of prisoners,
Supplies,
And food.
To feed a thousand mouths,
To support the machine.
Carrying gifts,
And wonders from far lands
To bring before the queen.
The train moves on,
Stretching over vast
Miniscule plains.

Like a conveyer belt,
The black lines
Run their circuits,
Picking up pieces,
And carrying them back .
Day in,
And Day out
Until,
One of them says
“Enough!
I won’t be worm meat
Any more.
I won’t go out in the open
To meet my doom,
To work for the good of others.
I will go out and make my life
Elsewhere.”

A thousand eyes,
Each with a thousand pupils
All turn to look at the
Ignorant
Idealist
From a million perspectives.
Nothing is said,
Just a multitude of blank stares
Until the loner
Mutters a quick
“sorry”,
And joins back in line,
Just as things have always been.

Walking down the halls,
Looking at the smart ones,
The ones who couldn't give
Any less of a care.
Those are the one that
Seem much happier.

I pushed myself so,so far.
I have to say, I tried my best,
But I'm left with only doubts
And a lack of self-confidence.
"Have I gone far enough?
Will I ever leave my mark?"

I doubt,
I doubt,
Doubt extremely much.
With no sight of evidence
Just confusion
And tiredness

Walking past the classrooms,
All empty of their prisoners.
While the others are leaving,
I am still here to stay.
They are off to live their lives,
While I walk towards decay.

I see an empty spot
In the middle of it all,
Where I decide to collapse
To give up for a liitle while

I always had wondered
What it'd be like to go mad

Let love not spring eternal
But rather give it decay
And leave it days numbered
So few as to be counted
On only fingers and toes

Let love's flame burn
Not eternal
Not forever
But rather in short bursts
Hot flares of passion
With cold spells between

Let love be a flickering eye
Let it pass from one
Person to another
Let it not rest on its
Quest for a partner

Let love flow on
As the seasons flow
Waxing and waning
Let it change daily
Growing maturing
Aging developing

Let love leave home
And stay away
Until it is ready
To settle down
In its true place

Let your love not rest
Until it falls upon me
Or
Let my love not remain
With you who loves another.

I want to go to war ;
Not for glory and valor or duty and honor,
Not for some government’s victory fantasy.
I don’t even believe in killing,
And yet I still want to.
What a sad sight it would be to the soldiers,
The trained psychopaths who grew up,
In families that took away their fear and weakness,
(Their soul and heart as well)
Who were taught from birth to hold a gun against someone’s head
And shoot.
They will look at me, and
They will laugh until the veins in their over muscled necks pop,
And then they will laugh some more, and
Say” What the hell?
Who gave a pacifist a gun?”

And I will tell the murderous
Merciless
Arrogant
Brutes
“I want to rob a bank as well.”

And they will stare at me blankly
And inquire of me “why would a ***** ever,
Ever,
Ever
want to do something dangerous?”

And I will simply give a knowing smile
And reply
“I’m jealous,
I’m tired of only being a monster
Inside my head.”

The naive boy
Helped his friend

The naive boy
Was told not to

The naive boy
Cried "the Earth is flat"
Too late to find
In fact, it's round

The naive boy
Was a kind young thing
Hospitable to all.
Now he knows
The lengths some go
In getting what they want

I am not
The naive boy.
No longer!
Just an angry boy
Betrayed by friend
Who did not deserve
The kindness given

But I will not show
My internal rage
And they will never see
Thoughts on my face.
Who is now Naive?

It’s 7:09 am.
Sitting in the classroom,
Like every day before.
As I drain my Vault in a few gulps,
And my friend beside me
Sips at his coke,
I say to him,
“I have decided
That I have commitment
Issues.”

He looks at me,
Through slanted
Disapproving eyes,
And in a harsh tone, says
“What?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love,
Nor that I don’t want love,
Nor that I don’t want a relationship.”
I respond,
Taking the last drink of soda.
“I just don’t see myself
In a working relationship,
So I don’t even bother really trying.”

Shockingly, he raises his voice.

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant.
What makes you,
Think so highly of yourself,
That you could just decide,
On something like that?
What makes you god?”


Taken aback,
Surprised more by the speaker
Than the actual words.
I silently think
Why of course I’m not god
I don’t create rainbows on command.
Obviously I don’t make miracles
But it is my mind
and my world…
So what keeps me from being
God in there?

The bell rings,
Not an old time bell like in the movies
Just a recording to draw focus back on class.
While I sit in the back of class,
Experimenting with my new-found powers
Inside my own little dream world

Green light suspends my structure
Darkness then enters, pervasive, invasive
Darkness without hostile motives
No reason to ail my beautiful light
It just happens

So long aloft in arms of others
Legs are shriveled, decorations, a show
A show that cannot support the form
Of the athlete the task demands
Disappointment, Atlas failed

Smooth and bare the corridor
Opening into an expanse of cavern
Rough on the edge, ravaged
The Devil took a bite out of Earth
Looking into the space, empty

It is not what is taken
It is the burden kindly given
The freedom to inhale and exhale
To be tossed by storms and make them
The ability to succeed, or even fail
Responsibility

I never sleep well;
Thumping, banging, hammering
Ringing in my head.

Pointless little thoughts,
Rubbing themselves on my brain,
Teasing my conscious.

Dreams float on the wind,
Going in my ears, then out,
Leaving mystic clouds.

Like happy songbirds
Singing on a summer’s day,
They call out my name.

Plain curiosity cries
For fulfillment in the dark,
Making child wander.

Wild dogs, cats and trees
Scratching at the door in play,
Bidding me outside .

There’s a party there,
In the land of the sleepless.
One that’s still awake.

With lights and music.
Ever-flowing drinks and food
Keeps them satisfied.

I can’t go to sleep,
And waste eight hours of life.
I stay up again.

Listening to night,
As it slowly turns to day.
The party runs on.

Mortality.

People fear it.
Personally,
I do not.
People despise it.
Personally,
I do not
People try to avoid it
Personally,
I accept that

No matter what
It always comes.

Mortality

It’s that party crasher
That everyone feared
Would show up
Uninvited.
It’s that proverbial snake
That you never see coming
But will always end up
Biting you.
It is that distant relative
That you don’t really like,
That winds up on
Your doorstep.

Mortality.

It is that reminder
That our time
Is limited here.
That countdown
Saying we better
Start getting productive
Before we get forgotten.
That timer that reads
Get to know your family
Get to know your friends
They might all be gone soon.
That sign that says
Road closed ahead
Detour to the beyond.

Mortality.

It happens.
End
Of
Discussions.
Either
Let it ruin your day
Or
Keep living on.

Going through life
With no lights on.
Staring at the nebulous,
Hazy events pass by.
Waving good bye to the
Monotonous days, wasted
Time means nothing
When you sleep through it
Like looing at the world
Through smudged glasses.

I always day sleep,
Blocking out my life.
Living as if nothing ever happens
And Sometimes believing it too.
If only to cut lose the weight
Of my chronic heart pains,
The angina from the sad state
That this world is now in.

Little bird, little bird
Stuck in your cage
Why do you want the sky
There are storm clouds out there
With thunder and lightning
And Hunters fire upon you
Shooting you down where you fly
With anger and hate
The world’s a dangerous place
For little birds to fly around
You’re safer in the cage

Field mouse, field mouse
Why do you run
I do not wish to harm
Just that the cat’s loose
And I want to protect you
And call you mine
People lay down their traps
They wish for you dead
I will not grant their morbid wants
I love you field mouse
Please stay with me

Beating heart, beating heart
Pounding in my chest
Why must you make a racket
Be quiet and still
You are driving me mad
What’s wrong with being subjected
When it is just by me
I let you run a while ago
And now it is time to rest
My beating heart, slow down a bit
Before you give us away

The cold stone towers
Cast shadows across
The barren desolate lands
Throwing darkness for miles
In the quieting times
Of the sun’s farewells.

The hard steel gates
Stand in stark contrast
To the openness of the sky.
Shut tight as a clam shell
Barring even the insect
And the wind from entering.

The tall brick partitions
That loom over the world,
Halting all time in their
Intimidating presence,
Keep the caged birds in
And the foreign spies out.

But a small breeze blows
Across the empty plains
Starting up a rumbling
As the walls began crumbing
And the fortress walls
Collapsed in wards
Showing that they were
Made of nothing more
Than dreams for posts
And sugar for mortar

The protection falls
Tumbling to the ground
Baring my **** body
To the growing crowd
To see all my scars
And my deformities

The winds from the plains
Give me apprehensive chills
As I wait to hear compliment
Expecting only cruelest jeers.

As no one approches
To help the poor girl,
I decide to give her
Some of my time.

I extend my hand
To help her up,
But she looks at me
And slaps it away.

"How could you
Think I'd want
Anyone's help?
Does it look like
I care for it?"
She spits at me.

She dashes off,
The pedestrians
Stare at me,
Laughing with
Their insect eyes.
The faces of doubt
And of foresight
are among them.
Whispering to me
" we did warn you"

All I wanted to do
Was to extend a
Hand of kindness.
I meerly wanted
To connect to her,
And see her happy,
But all I saw
Was mistrust
Brought about by
Too many nights
Crying alone.

How unfortunate
A person can be
To see all with mistrust
What does this say
Of our world.
This, too, seems
Just plain wrong.

Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyle and gimble in the wabe.
“Beware the jabberwock my son
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch…”

The twin scourges of solitude

Death comes upon closed hearts,
Nay… Cold Hearts would pray for death
Close cousin to the cold heart, the busy mind.
One rises with the other, in fact;
Both encage…
Both disconnect…
Both starve … of joy
Both take… the person…’s soul.

I give up, I say
Love is not for me
I fall to me knee
Bow head in defeat

Why do I show my neck to my foe?
There is a better way, I do not know.*

I don’t know
I simply do not know
Everyone looks toward me
Expecting my advice
It’s not here

I do not know the reason
For the changing of the tide
Nor changing of the season
Nor the…

The answers
Are as hidden from me
As they are for the rest of you
So do not look at me
Turn and go

Son; he says;
I am going to die.

How soon; I ask.
Real soon; he says;
Twenty, thirty years,
I've lived a while.

Why are you so old?
I ask, brokenly.
Because I was not
Ready to be a father
When I was younger;
He answers,
understanding.

I don't want you to die,
At least not so soon;
I grumble weakly

But, I'm ready for it,
I've spent my years
Holding onto life;
He says;
With you in the world
My last real job
Is to teach you
How to live.

Life's too short;
I say.
So short;
He agrees.

Now,
Let's talk girls
He says with
A wink and a smile

I want everything to be still;
I want wars a thousand miles away
To stop causing explosions and children’s screams.
I want movies being filmed as I speak
To just disappear and never be made.
I want all the butterflies to die,
So they won’t cause any more hurricanes
To pull me away from the words on the page.
I want all to be silent, motionless, and calm,
So I may sit here and grow old with my book.
I will sit here reading and rereading the simple lines,
Until vines grow over me and hide me from the world,
Until time stops caring whether or not I die,
Until I turn to stone, a monument to myself,
And even then, I won’t put down the book,
Until I know the meaning behind every word.
The ones I disagree with
The ones that I love
And even the ones that make no sense at all.

Then I’ll be content,
Being forgotten by everyone
And everything

Two black moons
Eclipse two green suns
Sending light green rays
Across sea blue skies.
Yes,
Those are my eyes

Overgrown black forest
Covers a landscape
Of sharp features,
With cold, hard angles.
Yes,
That is my face

Tall and gangly
Lost and confused.
Awkward, out of place
With the rest of the room
Sigh,
That is me

Staring at the mirror
Looking at the portrait
Of someone obviously me
But yet feels like it's not.

I can see the freshness
Stripped off of his face
As the years fly by
Traveling backwards
Through time

He is taller, darker.
Gone are his innocent eyes,
Relaced with olive brown.
Gone is his light colored hair,
Replaced with coarse black.

His very essence is power
Power at the price of blood,
He is a strong figure,
One to be respected

I see coluseum sands
Become metallic floors.
A new figure apears

He is clean shave.
He has light blond hair
And nearly translucent skin.
His eyes are steel gray,
Cold, calculating

He is a scientist
With an upturned nose
He's known to keep intelligence
Right next to arrogance.

All this
And much more
Is what I can see
When I look in the mirror,
But I can never see me,
Too ashamed, not satisfied
With being just me.

In the garden,
Where secrets hide
Behind every tree
Where black and yellow
Knights float free
where tomatoes grow
Next to smiling children
Where birds flitter by
In the passing of years
And currents of time

In the garden
Where my safe house
Meets the outside world
Where life trudges on
Like a caterpillars crawl
Where memories are born
With the new spring birds
Where one realizes
This is what life is,
How it's all meant to be

I woke up this morning
With my pillow still damp
From last night's opening,
From that pin-up show
Where truth was first on
Followed by facts then pain
And all was bore straight
Through long held tears.

I woke up this morning
To see your cold eyes.
That Peculiar stare of
The scientist that's scared
Of the monster he made.
Those isolating looks.
That tells me your view
Of me has changed.
Those worried, sad eyes
That are ready to jump
To my aid if I fall

I woke up this morning
To hear those careful words
That tentative speeking
Telling me that you're afraid
That any word you might say
Will cause me to fall apart
Will cause me to take my life.
And honestly, they could
But your cautiousness could
Drive me insane as well.

With your love,
You choke me
With your worry,
You ****** me
With your care
You stab me
Deep in my heart.

Dear Mom
Dear Dad
I am okay.
I lived this way
Long before I told you.
I know how to deal
With pent up pain.
But you act different
As if I'm a time bomb
Or a mental patient.

That's why
I never told you
Cause I knew
That you wouldn't know
What's best to do.
Casting me aside
As a freak is far
From what's good.

Thank you for calling
John Kaffezakis.
He is currently out,
Probably lost somewhere.
He is kinda busy
Finding his way
Right now, and
He'll likely be out,
Floating in space,
For the entirety
Of known time.
So

If you are calling
As a courtesy
Or because you feel
That you have to,
Please leave your *******
And don't call again.
He will never get back to you
With appreciation of your fallacy.

If you are calling
For guidance/slash/help,
Leave your name,
Number and issue
And John will be glad
To get back to you
As soon as possible.
Because your problems
Seem to take less effort
To solve than his own
And he likes seeing you happy.
But

If you are calling
Because you want to see him
Because you want his company,
Do not leave a message;
Get off your lousy phone;
And see him face to face.
He's out in the world
Doing the things he loves
And he happily shares that
With all his good friends

Beep

Dark clouds loom heavily
On the horizon's edge.
Gray shapes in the image
Of hopeless, lost faces
Torn apart  by harsh agony
With hatred and despair.
In the clouds are the souls
Of the ******, the doomed,
And as the sun goes out
Hidden by a myriad of troubles,
The darkness of the human soul
Throws shadows on the Earth.

But the torrential rains fall cooly,
Drowning out the chaos with
The constant rhythmic beat,
Rat-tat-tat Rat-tat-tat.
The rain washes over me
Cleaning the dirt off my face.
The showers quench the fires
And grows new life within me.
A new plant takes root,
One named experience.
Even in the shadow's gloom
Good things can sprout.

Fading smiles and happy eyes
Of the picture from good times.
The wear of years has done its work
Upon memories and photographs.

As the color blurs
And the gloss rubs off,
So too, does the remains
Of the emotional stains.

Looking back at the past,
Through third person lens,
Remembering the stories
That took place that day.

But the corners are ripped;
The edges are torn and frayed;
The light bleached it white;
And water left sagging spots.
It’s only a piece of paper;
Wood pulp and ink in the end.

So the photo is pushed back
Into a box of others forgotten,
Just a jumbled stack of history
Rotting away in my brain.
They are still most important
But I go out to take some more.

Do you remember?
The sight of the water
Snaking between the rocks.
The sound of the birds
Chirping nature’s melody
Do you remember?
Our little world
Apart from the outside.
The movements of the moments
That felt like eternity to me.
Do you remember?
Being truly happy
In that time we shared.

Were those moments
Just figments
Of remembered fantasies?
Was there nothing there
That felt like home?
Or do you remember
Something else
Much more sinister?

There’s a solid blue pen,
As blue as Zankynthos caves,
As a calm mediterranean sea,
As the eyes of the creature
That stares back at me.
Translucent blue plastic skin
With simple white insides.
A grip that’s too large,
And shiny silver details.

Made a dime a dozen
In foreign lands far away;
Crammed with its twins
A hundred pens, all the same;
More than anyone wants,
Sent by boat on blue seas
The same color as the pens,
To be left out on store shelves,
To be judged by passersby.

Finally, it was bought
To sign laws and bills,
Letters and documents,
And secrets and gossips.
Meant for one purpose,
To be under the domain
Of one human master.

But this pen belongs
In another man’s hand

Hold your breath.

For
When you don't breathe
Your brain starts to die
Along with your troubles
Your angers
Your pains
Your fears
Your nightmares
Your failures
Your hopelessness

Your memoy
Your potential
Your family
Your friends
Your opportunity
Your wishes and dreams
Your life
And all that you are
And all that you could be
Will wither as well.
You might want to breathe
Before you lose more
Than you want.

You speak so softly
Barely a feather
In the gentle breeze.
But your word weigh
Heavily on my mind.
You need to speak up.

How could anyone tell
What exactly you mean
When you have no conviction?
Especially oblivious me?

You cannot juggle words
Like they're flaming rings
Unless you want to burn.
Words must be thrown
Like darts at a target,
Each one hitting bulls-eye

This tentative manner
Might hold your audience
In a momentary trance
But they will move on
If all you ever do is dance
Around your point.

You may ask for me,
For my support or
Indeed, my company
But if your only words
Are lost in between
You only say, please leave.

I may understand why
Your words never come,
I may understand why
You desire not to hurt,
But I don't understand why
You leave others in the dark.

I am Schrodinger's cat
My thoughts are an experiment on entropy
I am both dead and alive

I've been tongue tied since third grade
never able to say I love you.
Especially to myself.

Welcome to my humble abode,
My mind, my heart, my soul,
My madhouse and my prison,
My open fields and dark caves.
Come inside and see,
Where I play out all my fantasies
From simple walks
On sunshine beaches
To chanting crowds
After great speeches.
In one room, I play dress up
With many faces of different sorts.
In another I just repeat one thing,
“I love life”
A million times a day, just to believe it.
You are welcome to wander
My labyrinth of many halls,
Where you might find
Temptation gremlins and inhibition faeries at play.
You can walk through this castle’s yard
On a winding path that never ends,
Passing the shocking sculptures and hedges,
Kept by the half mad, half blind gardener.

In fact,
If you so crazily wish,
You can spend all your time here,
Peeping in to my inner workings,
Finding wonderful things,
Devilish things,
Things that make no sense,
And things that should not exist.

But I warn you;
Don’t try to understand the order here.
Don’t try to pick up any meaning.
Don’t touch anything, don’t get involved,
Or you might get lost in here
And become another voice inside my head,
Going about the rest of your life as merely a
Whisper

Splat
The hand drops
Smothering the flames,
Causing them to die

For a few moments
The fire knew life.
It had energy,
The essence of power
It grew stronger and
Spread its roots

In a second
What started as
A spluttering infant
Was snubbed out.
It will neve see
What it could be.

So easy it is.
To put out a fire,
To change the future
To end the potential
With the tips of your fingers
Or the flat of your palms.

So easy it is
To end a fire
To say good night
It's time to sleep.
Shhhhhh

What pain it must be
To be one of two
When two were one
And the other is done
Leaving one as one half
Not even a whole.

There's not much left
When you're not complete
When the rest of you
Has departed from sight.
You are useless then,
When  you are the other part
To the missing piece.

No wonder he cries
In the night for his brother
No wonder he waits alone
For the one that won't come.
No wonder he cannot
Give up on his hopes
He'd have nothing if he did.

At least there's some good
Lucky, he's not an outcast.

That pain, I hope to never know.
If all is together, uniformly one,
Then to be left out
Is to have never existed.
To be one divided by all
Is less than one over infinity.

I understand what it is
To be one half or one third
But if I was one
Divided by the world.
If I was the last one left,
I think I'd prefer death.

"Do you love me?"
She once wrote
In the words
"Could we be together?"
And tied it up
In red lace with
Hopeful hearts

"No.
I don't love you."
I replied softly,
Sadly, mournfully.
Through
"I don't think it'd work.
I don't have time."

"That's okay"
She whispered
Not shedding a tear
On paper, at least.
"We are best-friends,
Right?"

"Yes"
I murmured
With all my heart.
I was bit by
Rejection before,
And I would not wish that on
My best friend.

Good bye world, I do not see
Good bye moon, I never saw
Good bye valley, mountain, sea
I bid farewell to you all.

Where is the sand
I once did touch
Where is the band
I once did loce
Where are the birds
The air and trees
Where are the worms
The dirt and leaves

What happened to everything
All the bells that used to ring
All the cars that used to shine
All the tastes of fruit on vine

Everything once was new
But then, today
I signed away
The beauty I once knew
If only to say
I follow majority view.

It’s 10:09 pm
On a dark Wednesday night.
I slosh through the mud
Looking for what is lost.
Looking over ever rock,
Under every edge,
Even turning up the soil.
But I can’t see what is lost
For it has long fallen out of sight
So I cry three times.
Once for my loss
Twice for my love
Trice for good measure.
But nothing ever responds
In the dead of the night.
Nothing but echoes
Over the dark glass water.
As if I’m not the only one
Out looking for what is lost.

I shiver under the force of the breeze
Quaking in hopelessness
Imagining that with the wind
Comes little piercing daggers of blame.
If you had been more diligent,
Maybe things wouldn’t slip away.
If you had been a better person
Maybe luck would smile kindly.
If you had been well mannered
Maybe I would not be searching.
None of this makes sense though.
It could’ve been anyone’s fault
Even nobody’s.
But I blame myself
Because it’s easier than
Blaming someone else

Meandering back to my home,
Hearing the cries of the little girl
And the cooing of the kind mother,
I wonder what I’m really looking for.
Is my search just for a lost pet
Or do I cry for much more than that?
I call out for every precious moment
Between you and me that’s been
Wasted.
I cry out for those missed, subtle hints
That just might have changed my whole
World.
I scream out for you, my lost loves
Where ever you might be, I remember
You.
I shout into the night.
Waiting to see everything that is gone
Coming rushing happily back home.
But nothing responds on a dark
Cold
Hopeless
Miserable
Wednesday Night.

A little girl cries
On a busy street
In downtown New york.
She is lost, helpless,
Unable to find her way
Through the growing crowd
Of mid-day commuters.

The innocent bird has
lost her path home.
The fledgling creature
Flew through dark terrors
Seen worse than most.
That poor little girl,
She needs someone's help.

But the pedestrians pass.
The rich and the destitute
Both turn a blind eye
To the victim's struggles.
Those able to help
Pretend nothing's wrong
And no good is done.

This is a plague
Infecting all people,
A disease that will
Cause human's downfall.
How can they not see
The troubles before them?
How can they not take
Responsibility for their actions,
For the problems they've caused?
To me
This seems
Just wrong

Your words are quite confusing
Your phrases are too contradicting
Your thoughts are too well hidden
your…
I just don’t know what you mean

Why is it that you make things difficult
Why is it that you are [replace: ‘need to be’] so vague
Why must you hide those [replace: ‘such’] things from me
Why is it that what makes little sense is all you only say
         What I need to hear … {illegible} …. what makes
little sense


I can’t understand. My mind no longer works
My heart can’t stand this confusion much longer
I must know what you want me to be… anarchy
I must [ want to] know what you think

I need to know your guidance (your wants, your aspirations)
I need to know your wants
I need to tell you how much you matter, how much I care
But it’s a catch-22, (you see)
I don’t know what to ask [say]

There are (too) few words I can use
To say what you mean [ quite what I feel]
“I love you” is much, much too trite
“You are my world” is just not enough
So I guess (this Valentine’s) I’ll (just have to) ask…
  “Will you be mine?”

--
Once Redacted
Replaced [with]
(Added)

At one point
I was on the building.
At one point
I knew where I stood.
At one point
I was happy with life.
At one point
I was not.

At one point
I went to the roof
At one point
I stood on the edge
At one point
They watched me jump
At one point
They covered my face

At one point
I looked at myself
And thought life
Wasn't worth living.
That's when I fell
And kept falling

But while I fell
I saw the faces
Of homeless men
On the streets below.
I saw the pains
Of abused children
Through passing windows.
I saw others falling
Pointless and illogical
Wastes like myself.

The last thing that I saw
Was the approaching ground
Then, I no longer sought death,
But I couldn't do anything
About not wanting to die.
I was too far gone for that.

At one point
I didn't think
About what I was
Doing on the roof
And unalterability
Of my decision.

The world is gray.
She can be cold,
Harsh, indifferent.
She will hurt you
In more ways than
You could possibly
Ever imagine.
She will tear you down
When you're high.
She will bury you
When you're down.
She will let you freeze
Starve and waste away.

In the end,
The world will hold
The smoking gun
As she fires the
Bullet into your brain.

The beauty of it all
Is that none of it
Matters. Period.
When the world is harsh,
You can be happy.
When the world is mad,
You can have peace
When the world is grim,
You can be hopeful

Becuase
Before it's all over
You will see little
Miracles made daily.
You will see challenges
Being constantly overcome.
You will meet wonderful people.
And with them, you'll create
The amost amzing magics.

The beauty of it all
Is that we can always
See beauty where it's
Hard to find.

Your eyes are cold
Your head is down
thinking that way
Makes Your lips frown

You stand on the
brink of the day
Tween here and gone
And now and there


What will you do
Before you're gone
Do you yet know
It's almost dawn

Where will you go
Until time's end
What will you show
To death, your friend


So please don't think
Don't think about
Eternal sleep
Fading away
For if you do
Then you shall be
Think of what
you will leave

Please think of those
who'll always care
What will they be
Without you there

So think of us
Your family
And how we changed
Your entire world

We'll pull you through
These hardened times
Into the light
Of this new day

So hold our hands
We'll hold to you
We won't let go
Until it's through

So please don't think
Don't think about
Eternal sleep
Fading away
For if you do
Then you shall be
And slip away
Before the day

Before the day