All want change,
but aren't the ones willing to be the change.
All wish for heroes,
but don't act like they're saved.
Why be stuck in these ways.

Deepest pain is the one in secret,
a smile covering up a hurt.
One can seem so happy,
he seems fulfilled. But alas; just pieces.

The greatest pain,
the one they don't know.
Agony is a song,
sung by my heart in secret.
Which sounds like the blues
pouring out of my soul.

The last struggle felt,
is extreme pain in the nights
Hiding behind the lights of day.
We're all broken sometimes,
but we love to say, "we're okay".

Really why I love to suffer alone
isn't me being selfish with my pain.
When you grew up being told to be a man
crying in secret is all you know.

I'm best to be silent,
crying tender whispers of pain.
These tears will remain pouring down,
forcing me to stop being quiet.
For after the cloudy weather comes the
sun after the rain.

So goodbye to the agony,
and it's secrets.
I break down to be rebuilt from broken pieces.

At a place where I do something
and don't feel so sure.
But it isn't confusion,
just me being insecure.

Put confidence in a movie
and play it out.
The movie tells a story of the curiosity
of one's insecurity.


First scene,
a kid questioning a lot of everything before it's done.
"Action", the director would say,
as a character would come up to the kid
and tell him, "don't worry my son".

Second scene,
his doubt is setting.
He's done a lot in life,
easily stuck on regretting.
The character tells him, not to be stuck in the past
"All things are new to us in the bright future,
an ever changing cast".

Third scene,
he feels every move he makes could backfire.
But as the character loves to say,
"you hold yourself back so much for you know you're the best liar.
If we were all too afraid to fail once in a while,
would we know what is success?
We're only successful when we've come past our regrets".

The final scene,
the kid accepts what is and not.
Learning that things can make us fall, but not for us to stay as a drop.
We're a superstar best at home when we're at the top.

So to be insecure is human nature
but a human nature we can go against
So we learn to be the best in self confidence.
Life's a journey,
but not one you let go to waste.

So cut!
End the movie right here.
See better in confidence;
for insecurity makes everything seem so unclear.

Those who rise,
have known how it feels to fall.
And those with eyes,
see the most than all.

If there's a rising,
rise above if you should.
If there's a rising,
don't mistake the strength you have for being less than good.

There's a high rise in the Highlands,
we rise above any hurt.
Count up your blessings,
and you'll find a life filled with so much hope.

The Highlands rises with the sun,
never setting on our dreams
For such a time hasn't come.

As I know I'm not the only one,
who sees a rise in the upcoming seasons
of everyone.

Rise like the Highlands,
higher than your feet can lift you.
Never fall into your hurts,
just stand tall in all of them.
The hate of the world is strong,
but the essence of love is what rises
stronger in you.

For those who rise,
we rise to highest heights
Defeat the doubt in your hearts,
and conquer the fears of your mind.

This the message, for those who rise.

The sun and moon once cried together,
making a beautiful light.
Amongst the stars and a spaceship
of the last solar flight.

Tears of the sun
are the rays we feel on Earth.
The sun cries for the moon's embrace,
love and her worth.

Miles away from each other,
their sights only by rotation.
One day my love,
we'll once again embrace each other.
No matter the distance, cause or duration.

This may be like one last solar flight,
but despite what the world may see,
I'll never lose you out of my sight.

Change I want,
like last a penny I'm afraid to spend.
If I change right now will
it benefit me in the end?

Change is an experience
yet to be felt.
Never too ready for such a concept,
change to me is a quarter yet to be dealt.

Such is self change.
How do I spend it in the end?

I don't give people enough
reason to laugh,
Why do you take me as a joke
on sunny days on less than sunny Sundays.
What's the rise of the sun if it doesn't  rise on hope.

I sung Christmas carols,
and got myself carried away.

Just like a Monday,
hate the feeling of starting it all again.
Waking up sometimes with no motivation inside the body.

Often I can be so choosy,
quite loosely before it's even Tuesday.
Best time for me to be so moody,
beating myself so much I love
the bruising.

Truth is, where's the religion
on a Wednesday?
Wed myself to the feeling of love
before I go slightly crazy.
If we can't wed that day,
then I can't marry you baby.

Cause come Thursday,
you know what it means to drown.
But come out of the very waters
still very thirsty.
Even if you ask for a thousand wishes,
you'll only get one just like a birthday.

So can't we be
free by Friday.
I know I've never been the
best at times.
But I'll try to rise to the occasion
and make it our high day.
Even if you hate to have your head
stuck in the clouds
Sometimes the clouds overcast pains of our eye's.

So by the time we make
it to Saturday,
The pain I have right now is making love to you in the best way.

Why promise you the world if it's
something I never had.
Can't blame the world for not everlasting,
everything we know has to meet it's end.

Just like my Weekdays and Weekends.

All coming full circle
just to spin all over again.

Wishing well of a thousand wishes
grant this one of silver coin.
Have I had a thousand wishes
I'd only wish for time.

Compare the old ways to the new,
and "a lot has changed", as we'd like to say.
But change was always meant to be a cause
for change comes by the day.

The old will always criticise the things of the young,
the young give them plenty reason to think we're dumb.
In this time of ours,
we live in a time of things looking so pretty,  
but not as a pretty smell of flowers.

What's in it for love
before we even learn to love one another.
And what's left of this very time
that has never kept the very moments
of making everything yours and mine.

In this time of ours.

What a strange time it is,
it's a time where every being only has one fear.
What a pandemic.

In this time of ours.

Do you ever ever question the time,
or you never never really do mind.
If so it's fine,
still never complain when everything stops,
when you run out of time.


In this time of ours.

Pain is a story that I can't tell.
while my heart stays burning,
before it's witnessed the fires of Hell.
My mind is only trapped in a cell,
that I've built myself.
And who knows my very torture,
unsurprisingly there's somebody else.

Human pain is just a colour,
in every person a different kind of shade.
The pain that you've made.

In this time of ours.

The past is gone,
the present is unsettling,
While the future seems unwarranted.
Each day comes,
leaving us to be stuck on worrying.

In this time of ours.

What does time expect of us,
and what do we expect of time in the near future.
What's to come next?
Something good I hope,
from all the pain and cruelty.

She pounces on her prey,
timing her attack.
Do you chase for me O dear,
instead of me chasing you in a magnificent forest.
The hunt for love is only a mile,
but if we ever fall in love it will take us a while.

Bodies grow tired,
feelings grow in their hunger.
We all what someone to love,
the love and affection of another.

And in a split second,
love attacks us in a perfect method.
Which calls the hunt done,
but question is, which side has one.

There's opportunity in the life
of eternity.
Moments passing with memories
that stay.
Stolen from us like a last kiss,
lovers do miss each other as they
miss each other's lips.

There was something or someone you
once loved.
They where lost with you in the moment,
now they've left you alone to feel torment.

Given it was the last time,
the last time you said "you were mine"

Could you then be wrong,
wanting more than much.
Selfish in the ways wanting this so much,
for you truly loved something as such.

You call the love for it "beauty"

Now beauty is just a stolen kiss you still
haven't gotten enough of.
Either way,
it was the little you got that let you appreciate that love.

So I ask,
this last kiss from that you loved
Did you make it beautiful, more than yesterday,
had it imprinted and had
your heart carved and scarred.

Mountains don't talk,
only do they hear.
Listen to falling trees making a sound,
this is like my last moment,
Before my dead wood is found.

What's the amount of life,
adding to the idea only subtracts the cause.
Divided by the voices blowing in my head,
much like wind blowing across you O'tree.
Not so cheap to be alive,
for nothing in life comes for free.

Our cruel world shares no love for any few,
the very few of you are helpless.
Why do we all suffer,
we are so many.
Doing so much in this cruel world,
living in the stories of our upbringing,
Stories we never told.

O'tree,
you and I are much like.
In a world comparing us both,
we're so much a like, living in a world comparing wealth by it's size.

Let's stand,
tell our stories right here on this stand.
They may never understand,
how our offspring are destined to grow great.
Seedlings of little wealth,
born to reach the skies, a touch away from the blue.

We grow in this world,
moving so fast,
nothing in the moment seems to last.
How do we make it to any future
when we fail to remember our past.
Wealth sees fortune,
but fortune won't forever last.
What drys out is only nature,
all that falls, drys away like leaves on the grass.

Life's not seen in a straight line
couple bumps & curvy roads
is always to be expected.
Life can't promise to always be fine.

We'll fall more than we can even count
giving cuts & bruises. Pain & hurt.
Constantly feeling we're being taken out
some are running ahead of this life
but never coming up first.

Never can we say life was so easy
you say it stinks to be you,
so maybe people will call you out
for being so cheesy.

On a road that goes here & there
as it moving left or right.
A lot of shortcuts and secret paths
still stick to the path leading to your goals
They'll guide you if you only focus your sights

The end of your road may seem so far
but walk on it so the end feels much greater
The beautiful sights on it are for the memories you'll soon capture.

Cherrish your little moments
don't worry about bumpy roads always there.
Life won't always be fair
but in it there's always those giving you their care.

The care of which is so rare,
cherish it for it won't always be there.

The world can't give you it's love
but surely a greater love comes to
us from up above
So I ask you, is that not enough?

Filled in a glass of fancy
rising occasion rising to the skies
A glass of wine
smooth & etiquette, a maturity of fine.

Raise a glass to Heavens above
clearing my throat to make a speech
Gather around all to hear of my preach

A lot of the life you had gave
wasn't all but your own hand
Life is saved, but not to be spent out later

So don't let the greatest thing you've said
only be layed out onto the world while
you're laying on death's bed.

You let only be seen
of your every good deed
But turn it over by acting so mean.

Why though, is such a thing?

Learn to stop playing pretend
it's only an act of cowardice
Leaving a bad example to the descendants
wondering what a true hero is.

Your best example should be early told
stop waiting on young age
to do something for yourself
Age will always be a number,
but we all grow old.

Life feels almost like a test
exercise your rights in being you
And the result is finding much needed rest.

You'll pray on your feet
fall sometimes, but stand again
Still there's worth in all of these things
we go through our weaknesses but emerge
afterwards as stronger human beings.

So raise a glass to that & make a cheers

Life isn't so simple like a tree
wind blowing passed her leaves
Freely they blow, blowing to be free.

This wind,
is moving fast and free amongst our atmosphere.

A flame,
burns bright in the echo of light
darkness no longer preys on shadows
The demons following us at night.

Water,
an essence of life in a form of liquid
Quickly though, the thirst subsides
drink of this essence to survive.

Mother Earth,
has surely kept us all together
She knows how it once was
how it's going to be, & how it all came to be.

Mother Earth,
has known history at it's very first birth.

For it's only in today
mankind has found a moment in time
to live as if it were the last day.

So if you do see into a future
search only for the best
For do you ever wonder,
as will would let us wonder what's next.  

Or is letting things pass you by
slowing down your ability to think
Don't be afraid to ask,
for our curiosity can't be answered
if we never ask how and why.

Beauty is and has will to be intriguing
of course for many of us, we do question the idea.
Men who search through the fields of true meaning.

Was love not to be like a rose
a pretty sweetness of nature in a field of many
So many pretty flowers for a hand, I'd like to suppose.
I never like to oppose, looking at the faces I see as a pretty rose.

A woman's true beauty could possibly leave us forgetting how to think
One look can't be enough. We've looked at your beauty more than once or twice
Surely now I may have forgotten how to blink.

We've picked you a few many times in our hearts,
these hearts are strangely picking at you ever more.
But if we do fall in love so easily, pray we're not only guided by a heart
It's so easy to fall, but much easier to make someone else fall apart.

You guard yourself, for really you wouldn't want to be hurt
Some may underestimate you, but you shouldn't count on them to count out your worth.

You're in a great valley of your own,
and like it's roses, you make guard of your heart by the sharpness of your thorns.

Roses in a valley will often be picked by many who seek for beauty,
still as many will come, only the right one will ever love you truly
So never let one ask you for an advance in love if their only return is with cruelty.

Usually I don't speak highly enough
so I highly speak of what always needs to be said.
No love is highly acclaimed like the one of a woman's love.

You've weathered storms of what the world could rein upon you, but you're still standing strong as you grow.
What is your strength makes you for you, we all should see such in those petals that show.

Don't place your heart out just for someone's lonesome stealing
Let the beauty of you strike the eye, then only when he has understood it for all it is, will that be the day your heart is out for his receiving.

It's a bunch of you that the world has placed in a corner
but it's grown over to a valley.
We should learn wisely to care kindly for you
for a man is the head of the house, but a woman makes what is the heart of that family.

So for these roses of the valley,
shall the Lord add on endless worth to your value.
Though you drive us crazy sometimes, we should learn to love you madly.

Less is more,
more or less waiting for a lot in store.
But just for you babe, I'm looking forward to having a little more of you.

Probably you know me best and how I easily break,
putting a lot at stake to glimpse what's hidden underneath that sunny dress.
Hoping that what I'll find is as bright as you.

But I shouldn't care much for things I really can't see,
though having my eyes stuck on you isn't the best view of life for me.

But life is strange,  that we're always stuck on something,
stuck in between loving you more than loving myself, honestly that shouldn't come up to just nothing.

So like a short verse bleeding out of my pen,
I've bled out carelessly for past loves, that it makes me wonder if I'll ever fall in love again.

Placed on these waters
you look for change in life's quarters
Tell me what you find.

Unless of course you find yourself
but who are you really
Rather what have you come from
and what's the beauty in the voice of your song.

Surely the horizon ahead is misty at times
looking into the future isn't so easy to see
But like waters across the globe that dress the sea
You'll never meet an end cause for that very end is just a beginning.

Placed on these waters
you wrap yourself in a blanket of hope
Tell me if you've never felt so warm.

A placed bet on life
but has life dealt you a better hand.

Everything always feels like a risk
still from all the best endings of your misplaced fortunes you should be glad
The little of you is a better hand then a lot of problems
So hold dearly on all that you have closely to hand.

What you see at the end of a river
is only the start of a lake
And the end of that draws into a ocean
grander is we draw into greatest like waters drawing into a Great sea.

So see no end in your life
the end is just a new beginning
We could seek so many answers
but never get set on life's true meaning.

Still living a meaningful life has it's purpose
like change in the upcoming season
Change comes at it's own cost
before knowing the purchase.

So whatever you place on these waters
place on it your faith
Such draws into your heart drowning, your soul
washing away the despair on your mind
Misty waters is us looking to an uncertain future
certain it will all work out well
So you'd have your faith out on a stretch.

Above the misty waters,
is to be above the unclear the human eye
Seeing clearly through God's eyes.

Don't misread me for spelling this out to you,
as the sun and moon will eventually cry together
That will be the warmest winter I ever know.

If I don't wake up tomorrow,
I'm sleeping through my pain,
Soaked up in my tears,
drowning in that pain
So if I die, my death is only for other people to live.

I gave my all, but only got little,
I feared you've stopped listening to my prayers so you can listen to the others.
I questioned love, and you're still yet to answer,
so care for me last, as you care more for the people in my life first.
And if you hate me for these selfish motives, I ask you to forgive.


My own opinion has never lead me to anything better,
so I hardly think for myself when I mostly think for others.

I only want to be heard,
but everyone I know takes for granted my every word.

I just wish to be seen,
but nobody sees what I really mean.

I waited on your timing,
but time has run out for me.

So how do I trust when that trust is empty,
how do I ask when you never listen
And how do I live,
if living is only a slow walk to death

How do I dream when all my dreams are just my constant nightmares
And how do I follow the rules of my wake, while looking for a place to escape


Surely it's so hard to keep yourself together,
sunny outside but living under the weather.
Overcast, overcast, overcast,
I know my future depression has it's rein within the past.

I know I should care more about myself,
but I'm so stuck on loving everybody else.

What's left for me if I leave my heart out for you all to pick in
To stay above high waters of every relationship,
but I know I'm just a sinking ship

Titanic, Titanic, Titanic.

If love was once mine,
I'm  convinced I never had it.

Given all to my friends after I divided it with my family
As I'm crazy enough to enjoy the sense of pure insanity.

The man everyone looks to lean on,
who could write a picture for you all to dream from.

Some days I hate it, but do it all out of love,
So often I fake it, so let me end up weightless inside of being wakeless

Let a pen run dry from it's creative ink,
maybe take more time to create your words before you say them,
put a lot of thought into what you have to say &
try first to think.
That's honestly got to be my loudest silent prayer.

Only time I'm running out of luck is when I'm running out of reasons to ever live,
thousand reasons not to wake up to this beautiful  life we all live.
And a couple more to throw everything away, before I'm ever open to receive.

That's got to be a point at the end of the tip,
at a mountain peak bleeding out on those below me and pouring out knowledge onto these small kids with my ink.

I see black things much blacker in the dark,
and it's not a pretty site but still a reason why black is art and who we all are.

And my pen is a paintbrush to a poet painting out his every word,
Probably blinding out your eye, so take a better listen or haven't you heard.

I'm only here to spell out the info of True,
So don't misread me for spelling it out to you.
If you can't take the truth then it wasn't meant for you.

That's what the relationship between a pen and a poet had to sink into your head,
so he best wipe his fingers now, cause his fingers have bled.

There was a dream of mine,
an idea of most in a different space of time.
I dreamt of a place where a man stood in front of a crowd. People of so many colours.
Unashamed of the colour on his face,
nor the song underneath his voice.

Some of course,
hated him and his so called gang of "stereotypes".
And in all honesty, it wasn't a shy away from racism,
cause they introduced them as short time hypes,
failing to even pronounce their leaders name.
 
So that's what they walked in as, "The crazy gang of dangerous stereotypes".

They crowd fell quiet at their arrival,
and really the few who understood their vision came up in front with their tiny cheers.

Those against them sent their spies to try and infiltrate the group inside,
But their leader didn't mind. "Let them try and break what's outside, we're much stronger inside".

Their fearless leader echoed to his stereotypes.

Those against them tried to pull the plug on their little performance,
but it just made the leader chuckle.
"They can turn our mics off, but our voices will always be on".

Their fearless leader echoed to his stereotypes.
And now turning to the crowd.

"I know you hate us, I see it in your eyes.
You think we're quite strange for being a gang of such vibrant colours,
Which is the case, but also the case of how different we are from one  another.

There's white on our keys, 
black on our drums,
yellow on our bass,
red on our strings
And mixed in the lead.

I understand being mixed seems a little overwhelming,
but trust me, it was for all of us at first.
Still we need you all to listen,
we've got a song to give.

We're tired of this hatred for different colours".

Their leader gave the call,
as the drum began the count,
The crowd grew closer. A few began to dance, while others still stood in their places.
But you could see the jig expressed out of their faces.

As the song was halfway done,
the crowd was entirely full.

Where the leader swerved left and right,
the crowd did so without hesitation.
And those who had stood in place where now dancing with everyone.
Dancing as one entire nation.

Their leader lifted up his voice to the Heavens as they rained down a shower of lights,
flooding the entire room.
The leader fell to his knees as did the people,
his voice was tired and broken
But he kept the song going strong.

He got back up building his voice till it was echoed high enough to bring down a mighty tower,
And with one mighty call to the Heavens once again,
the song had filled the room with cheers and tears.

Those against them had stood behind explaining,  "sorry but you've been suspended".
The leader with a smile replied, "we kind of figured, so we're taking this party somewhere else".

As he left with his stereotypes, the people inside had begun to follow behind,
They tried to break what's outside, but we're much stronger inside.

And that's the strength of our song that goes,
*** *** da da di *** ***,
*** *** da da di la la.

Life's got to be a trip,
question is where are you heading to?

World feels smaller in bigger shoes,
99% of the time I'm 100% sure I don't know what I'm even doing.
And a percent of the time I'd like to question what's living,
Asking myself, "what's the purpose in you".

The bright side of life could be a sunrise away,
so of course the lightness of life is just daylight found in another day.

So don't pray for the day,
just pray that you make it through the night
And I don't know if you shine, but you should be shining bright,
All through the day and burning through the night.
Might seem all bad, but every good is going to make everything seem alright.

In between us all, we're all shining,
and in between us all are the lights of our hearts.
So while it's still beating you're still alive to shine.
Stop playing shadow games with the dark,
you should know the moon itself still comes out in all of that dark,
So learn to shine in it from your beating heart.

Everything is going to seem so different,
like a changing season.
So stop betting on the weather,
you might find your fall before you spring into the next summer,
And it's going to be a quick Autum before you find yourself back in winter.

Clouds covering the sky are only a blanket covering the light before it wakes,
So learn from the sun and do your best to show a brighter face.

What you hiding from if it's only yourself,
and what you running from in life,
Looking for what's in store yet barely sticking by the shelf.

I know we can feel unsure about a lot of things,
and a lot of things can overwhelm the best from doing anything
But you're like a dream that isn't based on rules,  so maybe you could do everything.

Everything that is, what you were created to do,
shining in everyone of those tasks.
The simplest of course cause of the light in you.

You'll only know what you're missing when you haven't taken your shot in life,
And you seem to always do wrong cause you're never really looking to doing what's right

And I really should quote myself,
but really this me writing for anyone out there listening.
Cause maybe if we all had wider ears than a larger mouth,
we could probably figure out what's missing.

And really these poetic quotes aren't lightly taken despite me writing them in the dark.
But you should know broken people are the masters when it comes to any beautiful art.

So let yourself do the work in the things that set you apart,
Cause you're not living in this world for another  person's benefit,
so you best live for the sake of who you are.
And craft into the works of your gifting to make another piece of that work of art


Poetic Quotes.

Utter no word,
rather have your heart be the one to speak.
The beauty in your silence can calm the winds of it's many tiny whispers,
A beautiful artifact in the treasure of love,
so be like a jewel in the eye of true worth.

For I only say this to remind you of you're worth,
And never let any man think of you any less,
nor let any other compare you to perfection.
No one in this world is that perfect it,
but everyone in it are all worth it.

Utter no word,
rather let your beauty echo out what wishes to be heard.
Let the echo bounce back into the ears of the very people who need to hear this song,
And let us sing along with you till the waking of new Dawn.
Flesh will grow old, but this Beauty inside will forever remain so young.

Utter no word,
for your soul is the one to speak,
As it speaks so highly of you.
Why then should you be so low.
Or incapable to love, when you already love yourself enough.

Barely would a whisper have spoken,
still the words themselves can't be enough to describe your Beauty,
The only few words you need to hear is,
you're so Beautiful.
So don't close yourself on the notion, just constantly keep that heart open.

This child has the strength like their father,
the gentleness of their mother,
And with your own abilities it makes you like no other.

Who holds no regret to the odyssey of their beauty,
and never grows tired on their feet as they head towards there.

So walk your Journey. Walk along this Beauty's Odyssey.

People would say we don't matter,
we don't belong and there's no place for us. They may call us so many things, so many names, but they don't know who you really are.

And better yet what you are.🍂

The words of their mouths shouldn't define your actions, and your actions based on getting a good word out of their mouths.
They've labelled you different and strange. They don't understand us, and for a while we didn't even understand ourselves too.

So we lived in their shadows hoping for a glimpse in their light.
But the very light we desire is the light within us.

Let it shine brightly, as it freely can and will. 🌞

Our tears💧💧 hold so many chapters, and every drop cultivates this land to grow another story.
Our legacy isn't dead in the wind🍃, but heard in these stories that blow into every ear of men and women. 👂👂

You're not defined by their definitions, so don't defy yourself in their image. Everyone is a painted portrait, and a brushstroke away from being a masterpiece.

So paint away. 🎨

Let that pain they gave you be your drive to stand above the hurt.
Let the distasteful words they say urge to find the taste of freedom
Let the hate of men push you closer to love,❤
that it becomes the only thing you return. 💌💌

Man has fallen short, but we haven't fallen short from our uniqueness,
Man has mistreated us like we're nothing of equals
Still man can never forget that we're all but people.✋✋✋

So people, be as you are as people.

And us The Different we'll be as different as we are,
and make the difference in this world.

We are The Different.

Nosey!
I guess I am,
a boy just wishing to grow into a man.

And by the lies I do tell,
it's growing longer for me to ever fall short
Oh Pinocchio, how could the world ever love us, when all the love in the world feels so bought.

Feelings aside,
hating the mistaken times I've taken the deed of living inside of pride
Never living out of the world,
cause I found it much warmer inside.

A piece of wood thrown into the fire,
till ashes are all what remains
Perhaps tied a knot into these puppet strings,
that never break so easily for their my chains.

Oh Pinocchio, I'm so ashamed.

I've been done in by a sly fox,
buried a lot of my worth, hoping for it all to grown enough to afford a wooden house

And like an foolish ***,
I've kicked my own self.
Oh Pinocchio, I surely wish I could be anybody else.

Like a trick,
the play of hand has made it's deal
And maybe if I question reality enough it might show me what's real.

But I'm so much like an old story the world seems to have forgotten,
much in common with the darkness,
my body much like the same material of this black coffin.

Still forgive my whaling Oh Pinocchio. Shall I swallow my sorrow
Maybe be a little thankful for today, but I'm so remorseful for those days that come after tomorrow.

Oh Pinocchio, could I tie one more knot into the string,
could I spell out what I feel, like your name I spell out every time I sing.

Could I ask my creator to create the better version of me,
if such a thing does exist, how could it be.
In the sense of being able to see.

I'd see to that very future,
wind-up into blowing winds heading there
No longer sitting on my talent, though my material is what I sit on as a comfortable chair.

Oh Pinocchio,
I surely don't know
For I once was you so long before. But I'm not a wooden boy anymore.

My love for living is nothing but Titanic
a sinking ship;
down to the end of it's relationship.

Come to terms with the realization that is life,
if I die tonight would I make it to Heaven.
Perhaps you think I'm so alive, yet I've been dead since I was seven.

Everyday feels closer to the very end, I've feared no Armageddon
Like the young seeking only pleasure,
seeking such desires in the shortest of measures.

What is living.

What is purpose upon knowing who you are,
and therefore who are you if you're only known by nobody
What is living for yourself if we're constantly trying to live for somebody.

What is living.

Like a distant memory less focused on the past,
how far have we come
And in comparison to the past,
what's left for any of us.

What is living.

A closed hand question,
but not on the grip of things,
while thinking upon on all we've once held
So then it seems,
man only seeks to keep hold onto all their dreams.

What is living.

The days right now are foreshadowing the days ahead,
the months before;
as the years have gone away
To compliment the gesture is yet another day.

Then again what is a day if not lived to fullest
what's the question of living amongst the dumb ones and the clueless.

We're the only one's stupid enough to keep poking at the notion,
abusing the idea of living;
and seeking out our own torture.

Truly what is this living.

At the peak of the very tip falling off to the edge
a graceful fall into the shadowy hole of self longing
The time is rising still as the days are dawning.

Crawling out of the black pit we've buried ourselves in,
the grave we've set.
Gravely do you ever think of the mess you're in.

Perhaps no,
but no to the notion of thinking it's the end.

What is this living.

Living in the world that can't live with us,
a world we **** and still beg for it's trust.
What is the hope for us.

What then are we living for.

Living once and to the very last,
what is the hope for us.

Quotes of my words paints the picture of my name,
a kid stuck in is head sticking to his dues
And due to the bigger picture of things I'd much prefer to stay stuck inside my frame.

But the painted picture can't remain the same,
so let me add a little detail
Hang myself with interesting people
and be part of the craft of painting this picture.

Still I don't see what's the final art piece,
it's a puzzle piece against puzzle piece
A stroke into another stroke,
and a hit line into the fine line
But I should try to find peace within myself from this rhythmic rhyme.

Find the grand stand of the outstanding,
amount to the worth before I lose interest
into my soul's investment
Banking onto the little pennys spent into my dreams of wanting to be grand standing.

For I believe,

To be of cause is only when I'm heading in the right direction;
a long way through life and the challenges
Cause life's a trip and quiet battle that hits low by the midsection.

To be one of the greatest means I should have hang with a few,
Hang my thoughts and ideas with them and  borrow a few
Still I see you as great, but I aim to be greater than all of you

I'm the painted picture that your eye fails to sway from,
the piece art critics wish to know the background of

"Hey where did this piece come from"

And my theme of it all is behind the detail
so feel into my words through braille.

My twilight dawns,
sparkling a piece in my eye. Could I see the very end
And O light of my eye, where has your lightness gone.

Could the very end be much closer as it seems,
Though it seems
a common denominator of all losses over wins
Though it seems
across the light bouncing up and down the bodies of rivers and streams,
Though it seems
like painted waters, and gleams.
Though it seems
to be found in the lightness of my dreams.

Now Dawn has risen upon that setting Sun
Time has left us all behind, but still isn't gone
singing words of encouragement but we ourselves shouldn't forget that song.

As Morning wakes
becoming a vessel for an empty space,
which I much prefer if I must confess.

Night has fallen upon,
robbing the light of day behind the sun
And I shun myself for often being found in the dark
But lightness only became as was when it went ahead of the dark.

Now my time is setting,
and at the end of it all what was my lesson.

Upon the waterworks,
are the very tears tasting of worthlessness
A broken cry of the tears falling into the ocean
as her body curves, displaying these emotions

So what do they tell.

A question indeed,
for human nature yearns to ask the question with the answers we much need
And I'd need a step back from myself
a minor second to breathe
For holding back my tears means I've fallen not being able to forgive.
Surely it's not too good for my health

Still the very Lord I cry to,
hears the echoes of my tears

What do they tell.

How you see good in all your people,
in my tearing eyes I often see evil,
We pray so long till all these knees hurt,
the last bad I do always come first,
And I paid my dues now I need my reimburse

What do they tell.

How to fix all my pieces,
rich at heart but still no richness
the last bad I do always come first
And I love being my own witness

Still what are these tears telling.

How inch by inch I'm climbing my ego,
can't stand myself while I stand with your people
My proud voice only comes out feeble
And I don't know how to be good while I see evil
How do you see good in all your people

And what's the last they've told.

How I talk big talk with small words,
the last bad I do always come first.
I know that it's wrong, but feels right,
don't want to be left behind if you don't mind

I see all my bad, and act blind.

Have I then listened to my tear's story,
perhaps though, still my crying isn't at it's end

Dearly Lord I'd much prefer to be where you are.

Service is due waiting on a fix,
a black beating, and shadowy echo
Holding onto old ways, but maybe we should let go
put back into heart.
Back into that bleeding piece.

Do we ever love you enough,
has the world loved you a little that my particular love is always a lot
Or maybe I'm convinced into easily buying into love by the mart.
a corner store close to my heart,
Tied to me, so don't unwind the knot

Would you care enough about me anymore,
being lead by this discussion
Sense emotions but maybe can't feel no more
Why we're all not taking our time is because the whole world is all too busy rushing.

Still I am due the service,
could you maybe do me well a black service
In the dark glaring at the light of being a better person
I know it's a bleeding heart, but I don't think I can feel the hurting

I'm due a service.

Don't need to know the cost
I just need to finish my shopping, so could we start.

I don't take care myself,
or buy into the idea of buying into happiness by the sum of your wealth
But I do care if the blackness of my heart robs the happiness of my health.

I'm due a service.

From being the wrong, I'll be seen the worst,
who's lining up for a fix,
I'm in line in the middle claiming "I'm the first".

Still due the service.

Black is dark,
Still black is art and who we are.
And we wear that picture within our many scars.

Still due the service.

I just need to finish my shopping, so could we start.
Due a black service and seeking The Lord on top.

Give a say on steps means I'm overstepping
But I do like to stay a step ahead
But come to think of it
that last pun was a bit of a misstep

So please let me know about your feet
Cause all this stepping may lead to stepping on toes
And it's a possibility if I'm stepping out of place

But let's go back to the first step of me overstepping
I did it in a way of stepping out

So don't be expecting me to be stepping down
My foots hard onto the ground of a stepping stone
And that's stepping puns of this stepping poem.

Had it been a year ago,
you'd tell me a cough would be the scariest thing to hear,
I wouldn't want to be in that year.

Had it been a year ago,
The common flu wound be the death of so many,
I'd think all common diseases are working to be my enemy.

Had it been a year ago,
the four walls of my home would be my very prison,
I'd think the year had gone against us, so I can call treason.

See,
I've feared enough in my life,
to never fear the same thing twice,
But now I see,
I'm much afraid of a sickness,
that I fear twice of my own cleanliness.

As I see,
the flu is the possible thing to take my life
Sorry, but am I even reading that right?


Now this year,
I was told to be insecure of how clean my hands are,
rather than being insecure of myself.
To make social distancing a trend,
for the sake of my health.

To now questioning how this might all end.  
Sorry but I had a more eventful  year planned out,
rather than this year instead.

Now,
tell me what is the cause,
I've heard so many theories, but who really knows.

Tell me how it got here,
I've heard it came from so many places, but I fear mostly that it might be near

Tell me why I'm in Lockdown,
the news told me it was the safer way to live, but my isolation isn't doing me the best to stay calm.

But just tell me please,
where did this Corona come from.

Was it the hands of man,
who for the many good we make, we make one bad to throw it off,
Was this the supposed plan,
decrease the population and leave them all guessing where this virus came from?

Sigh,
never mind the cause.
Why question so long of things we don't really control
Human nature often pushes us to question everyone of our flaws.

Pull away from that disease,
maybe do yourself the justice of getting on your knees
Maybe pray a little more than you'd like people to believe.
Then again you were taught well to know asking is the only way to receive.

A cure really is what our hearts are hoping dearly to receive.

But have you prayed enough,
given your all, till all was foreign to you
Taken the time to fast as much
Asked the Lord how the cure would look if the cure was in you,
and all of us.

I seem that silly to think such a thing,
but I've heard a man state "he has a dream",
And my dream is such a thing wouldn't be as hard as it seems,
We just have to believe.

Believe that we'll conquer this pandemic,
For I refuse to let a sort of flu be my death,
I won't accept it.
I may be isolated, Locked away from all my people,
But I'm still connected.

I won't shy away to check on a brother by the dial,
"Hey there brother, wanted to know if you're doing fine
Or quite bluntly are you still alive"
I kinda figured my concern of your life might add more time to mine.

I'll still be connected.
I won't be defeated,
Cause I won't accept it,
I'm broken yes,  but I still have a lot of fight within my pieces.

From them I remind myself of what I've once said,

The world is in a moment of chaos, but only as a moment.
So if the miracle the Lord has for us appears in or after the chaos we'll  be the ones to show it.
I may act a little selfish and say I own it.

But I'll never own the victory of all my people,
I've told myself, "at the end of this all we'll share this victory as equals"

We're the cure but only if we're willing

Willing enough to pray to be the cure of this virus,
I've prayed to him enough to though he wouldn't deny us
Cause he told me all our battles don't break us, but only define us.

And I'm defined to be  the cure if I'm willing,
cause I'm grown tired of people dying,
To hearing that corona did the killing.

I'll be the cure for my people,
ask them to be one for another,
To be the one's to call up a sister,
send a text to a brother.
Show compassion more than a little,
Cause right now should be the time we learn how best to love one another.
Perhaps more than a little.

And that love doesn't need a gesture of being the biggest hugger,
Rather of the simple task of checking on one other.

The cure or cause to me can't be the thing that matters
I just want my year and people back
And I'd never be much gladder.
Cause the cure or cause to me can't be the thing that matters
I just want this all to end, and go back to the days of happiness and laughter.

Flipped ideas and concepts,
flattery of the heart, and excuses not to make.
We're all these things and many more pouring ourselves out by the upside-down.

Hey there brother,
what's with the frown, what's with the tears.
Never heard of the upside-down flipping those feelings right back around.

Thinking it meant you feeling better,
but stop playing pretend cause not every advice you get is like a friend.
The world is tough, and tougher when you toughness isn't matching the measure.

So maybe flip the world, letting the bad hang over
But I can't promise all the bad will soon be over,
Still all the bad pushes us to the good to hold it closer.

But you may feel flipped yourself,
cause the world itself enjoys to flip us over.

Still don't hang onto it's ideas,
you  may hang yourself just for it's pleasure.
And it may give you every reason to say you're nothing special
But a broken world can't know it's worth to determine if you're treasure.

So maybe stick to the balance of things,
away from the imbalance that probably haunts your dreams
And cares nothing of who really wins.

Stick to the sky, for the grip of things,
And I know it seems hard, but it's never as hard as it seems.

Just try your best to hang onto your dreams.

i.

By chance,
I'm really not that good at giving his thanks.

The moment is equal to the words I should say, but sometimes things never really add up,
And in my case no addition to the cause subtracts the total worth.

Please excuse me though I may tend to act up.

By chance, I wouldn't know how best to express myself,
Unless if I was somebody else or playing pretend on myself
I guess until I would only learn how to stop copying somebody else,
I can be my own self.

By chance,
I wouldn't know how to stop myself from falling in love.

And the chances of me not showing it aren't too many,
I do apologise baby,
My apologies are always so plenty.

But you and I will choose to play the game,
flattering ourselves that we were in love.
And yes darling feeding yourself dreams still makes you starve.


But why are we these beings,
falling to love.
Cause human beings can't function to love another if they can't love themselves.


ii.

But it can take the whisper of dark,
falling onto the cold nights,
that you may toss my comfort away from your side.

A slow measure distancing man from God,
in our case man from woman.

The butterfly knot would then be surely untied,
you wouldn't expect less of me,
Cause you'd expect me to tie a new knot of making you bride.

But my only possible fault,
being too afraid to commit
And one's added failure is to not point it out.

Still never distance yourself from these warm truths

Distance may let you grow,
cold and old.

i.

Painted scars,
displaying a beautiful tragedy

A dream taken away,
other's never had one to have
And so in both our eyes,
we could see each person so sad.

Two broken pieces,
trying to fit together
If you could feel your worth,
but failed to see the treasure
Alas
If you could hear your love,
but never taste your kisses.
Alas.

Perhaps you weren't nosey enough,
to scent out more of you.

Still during your time,
you wished for something
But three wishes had given you nothing.

Alas


ii.

Back then I was
going out into the world
finding what's out there.
Soon fell out of place.

I took a trip into the world,
leaving a lot behind.

I left a man with morals,
never thought he felt important
Never had a dream,
always stood woke
Left the joy and laughter of company,
wasn't one to take their jokes.

Found my seat on a train,
heading nowhere
Glanced at my reflection only once,
As once was only enough
so careless of me to say, but I never dreamt of such.

Alas,
these painted scars.

Here goes a toast, a raised glass to the Heavens,
looking down upon us.

Wonder what you see

I could help, send back the picture,
a perfect sketch of this crazy world.
Send it back to you;  for you see it much clearer.

Our world is in a bit of mess,
havoc has made a home in the hearts of man.

Man's hearts have made homes in the idols they build, hoping to be an escape.
I'm guessing that's the plan, but it's a pointless thought I must confess.

Depression seems to be on a all time high,
yet cheap enough for everyone to buy.
But wait that's such a lie,
everything bad in this world is actually for free.
The good you work for, and working hard you'd have to do.

But I guess you knew

Here's something more appealing,
cut your right off that does the ***** dealing
And you'd have left the hand of stealing.

Here's something more relatable,
we're not really living in the time of he or she being marriage able,
Rather of;  "Hey I wonder if their sexually capable"

Still with me I hope,
cause if I don't have you to look at in these troubling times,
I'll fail to cope, laughing in my short breathes but it's nothing of a joke

Here's something more questionable,
trends of the new are just reruns of the old.
But someone kept bugging me that I stick way too much to the old, and that I'm not so relatable.

Must of been the way he read into my pen,
how it's words had something a little too unsettling to his natural discomfort.
Maybe because I gave him one word of friendly advice, and he only heard harsh criticism of probably ten.

Sorry brother, I won't stop you from doing the obvious wrong again.

Here's something I tend to notice,
took for me a while to get it. My advice, look at it with a little more focus.

Someone once told me I was useless,
how it echoed sadness in my heart.  Still it really wasn't what she said.
Rather it was saddening how easily I accepted it like that was my purpose,

Like I was only worthless.

Have I struck a nerve,
I know I may be complaining a lot, but I'm just seeing a lot we don't deserve.

We don't deserve the pure LOVE you open handly give,
Feels worse when I'm in my guilt and shame, as my pride makes it closed on my hand to receive.

I honestly don't deserve much of all the things you give me. Yet you won't stop.
And the sun of my heart sets sometimes into the  dark,
You're still the endless light watching me from up top.

Please never stop!

Cause in a crazy world, your sanity feels out of place amongst the insanity,
like being the black sheep of your entire family.

Still it's the little sanity keeping my eyes up to the Heavens.
The world is in a moment of chaos, but only as a moment.
So if the miracle you have for us appears in or after the chaos we'll  be the ones to show it.

Here's a glass raised, a toast to the Heavens,
looking down on us.

I do wonder what you see.

This really isn't a public speech, but really just a personal prayer to you Lord from me.


Cheers!

The very words have slit the back of my throat,
a crude experience tasting on the blood of a wounded tongue.
The very taste of evil slipping off of it.

The lines are chaos trails leading to a destruction,
Lurking, slowly preying like the untamed beast of unfiltered words.

Soon it attacks tearing at flesh to reach the heart.

Falling into submission, it holds back by the voice holding it down.

Don't you dare speak another negative word I tell myself,
pulling back the very thing and letting healing take place on the wounded tongue

Kid sees ghosts in an empty fall of a garden,
Spring came around, but this heart can't be sprung by anyone.

Black trees all over my head, pretty much shady,
a little too crazy. Dodging the ships of relationships so I won't be good in the navy.
In a night garden where I grew black roses.

Being I am not the one,
not so bright today but I'm a lonely son.

Guess my time is done, guessing life was a little too fun.
Did a lot of deeds but they felt like none, so if you got some good deeds can I borrow some.

While in the night garden, that I planted myself,
wouldn't want to be there,
but I had to due to my health of thinking for
myself.

For Black roses,
make me seem so soulless,
And people shouldn't follow me cause I'm not the best Moses.
Blue tulips kinda remind me of sad kisses,
violets are a passion I have to towards my broken pieces.

And ghosts in my garden come out at night,
don't give me fright,
Cause once daylight comes they'll be running out of sight.

Night-time is me, only time really free.
I go into that state with a face of glee.
Daylight covers up my face, masking all my pain,
fire is my veins, and smoke clouds my brain.
But I don't know the difference cause it always feels the same.

Water in my garden only drowns my heart,
swimming in regret.
Sorrow is a rock at it's bottom holding me down, pretty much it's role and part,
And peace of mind to it is a threat.

But what could you expect less from a violent violet.

Cause my night garden is only a place for me, just to keep me sane,
whereabouts shouldn't be known.
For sharing with people would make it harder to maintain, I don't need the strain.
There's a lot of demons inside my brain,
trying to mask my pain.

But I wore out the face, buried inside my garden,
a place with no food for thought, so this mind is starving.
Hungry for love, and my composure,
something real to hold that pulls me closer.

Cause I hate myself for having a boo when it's only one of the ghosts in my garden's making,
cause such a theme is rather concerning.

But that theme was just a dream,
surely I need to wake.
But I fail to cause the heart sees reality as being  fake,
So let me stay awhile in my night garden's little space.

But I play two sides, hiding the darker part cause I'm scared what you'll find.

Still in the light I know a bit of dark,
darker sides of me festering in my heart.
I would explain what it is, but I myself am trying to figure this darkness out.

See I learned monsters too need to eat,
my darker colours make me a beast out to feast.
Cause I feed sometimes on lightness till I'm all but darkness,
A cynic type of picture cause really I'm a cynic  type of artist.

And mixing the two colours completes the full picture, but I show one side in the light day.

Cause if I'm going to die tomorrow, let me live tonight,
If it's a cost for me let me spend this life.
But if the darker colours tend to peep through when I lose control,
you'd be wise not to tame such a thing if you value your soul.

My lightness would give me reason to cry, as the dark holds a lot in.
The dark enjoys nightmares, as the light is only a dream.

But oh well, I guess that's what you get for being kaleidoscope,
playing two sides is frankly draining and no joke.
For I know people fall attracted to the lightness,
but the dark gives a reason to run away,
But you feel a bit of commonality to my darkness,
cause our situation is kinda the same.

Kaleidoscope, dark and light,
brave or fright.
Good or bad, a changing perspective,
I lack a strong fibre in will, and the will for repentance.

But I don't regret this, I just expect this.

Feels like the first time, we ever really kissed,
shooting my shot, and I knew I wouldn't miss.

Cause I, need to take a moment, while I find my composure,
cause I write my feels when I feel the moment.
And no I'm not joking, everyone lies, but I preferred when you lied to me closer.

And though it may seem things are over,
growing out of love by the days I get older.
Still I hope the feeling of love never turns over.

I mess up sometimes, my goes messy,
I'm scarred for anyone to come undress me.
Cause I know what's inside, lot of things I hide underneath my pride,
but I know everybody has days to cry.

O' My,
why do I feel this way.
O'My,
I've been only feeling strange in every way,
O'My.

I **** up a lot of smoke inside my lungs,
and no it's not a joke, I feel kinda dumb,
thought you were one, but love ain't for everyone.
O'My.

But given this time I find myself before I find new love,
and not by the end of my wealth do I fall in love again,
O'My.

Goodbye, have a great time,
see me outside so alive while I'm dying inside.
Still really never find. Given this this time,
I'll find something when I leave this all behind.

O'My.

Changing colours on how I feel,
my heart does it often. Don't even know what's real.
Coming into one feeling so symmetrical,
O' a kaleidoscope.

Remember the very first time, really wasn't by the best time,
lying to myself that I'm just fine,
think about it now that's just a cliché line, cause I'm just lying.

Still not the same when I write this, when it's all past I'll probably wish I never wrote this.
So many of these colours, I'm just going through the motions,
Mirrors in my heart somehow really help me to focus,
See myself clearly and never say that I'm worthless,
Though the Thoughts at the tip of my mind,  low-key  feel pointless.

But I'll need change, as I readjust my mirrors for a clear range,

Not in an empty space.
Cause hiding in my empty closet space isn't a filling place.
But I'll lock that door, really just in case.

In my Kaleidoscope, a pretty design if you really look close,
holding a lot of colours, within each piece of all worth.
Cause really I'm a kaleidoscope

Where three is a crowd, two gossiping have secrets coming out loud.
At the breath of their words, the things they say,
Id asked you to hold your mouth and swallow your tongue as I ask you may.

Perhaps do things differently today.

Where two is love, love isn't for itself, for it's shared,
Where feelings are kept, many things we soon  regret. When we lose a love so rare.
You best hid to such love and take care.

Perhaps speaking to myself, or of the inner voice of my conscience,
a good will of men, a foreign past of what once was.

A lesser past, behind the back of my mind. Thoughts of things, and pieces of dreams.

Where they all lay, I stay,
Where they rest, I sit next,
Where they are to be, is destined for me.

A man, a wake, a wreck, and an empty ship ready for another relationship.

Seems the Heavens forbid my tears a fall to the ground,
Upon the many cold whispers of self awareness and pieces of doubt.
A forbid fortress build inside my head,
great pieces of brick and metal clashing at each other.

Though I wish for peace instead.

What forbids my emotions, toys my heart and clouded judgement,
for I hung in grey skies past due the forecast.
A fallen sun, crashing landing onto a broken planet.

If I had enough dreams to buy it, I would to only later sell it.


Forbidden fortresses, and guarded walls.
Armed guards, and beastly dragons.
All forces against me, and I'll face them all.




On painted pictures, and sketches of dreams,
a broken pencil tip, as a dream has gone blunt.
Turn your heads forward to see ahead, be at your best front.

You old ****,
how dare you turn back to your childish ways.
Your false judgments, and hopes. The old crokes, with the crude jokes.
Stuck in your younger days.

With no care for the world,
selling pieces of it, and all of your soul.
How dare you question how you've lost your glow.

I tore through your secrets,
peeped at your deeds, fell sick at their stench.
And I could bet, beneath your shadowy hearts there's a light of regret.

But with it carries a stench upon your breath,
as your swimming in sin above your depths.


Hide your eyes, for we've seen too much of your pride,
Your demons inside, your misdeeds behind, and the many more things I refuse to find.

I'll send an attack upon your men,
I'll make of you an enemy by then.


Come at me if you will,
Arm your arms, holding closely for we're all out to ****.

Some **** their father's wise words,
others their mother's gentle touch.
Her sisters love, and his brothers guidance.

But still not enough.

Some **** the hand that aids, the hand that holds.
An eye that watches, a mouth that speaks,
a nose that has no sense to perfume.

Truly something stinks.

**** the thanks of many,
the hopes of others.
The sons of leading fathers, daughters of caring mothers.

Tell me, who is your enemy.


For mine is myself,
the holder of things. A killer of dreams.
A spoiler of health.

Health and money, two things I can't have as both.
Better health for more of my money, more money for my health, but losing my worth.

So over my head, seems a lot goes over me for my shortness.
Worthless, I say when I'm comparing myself to others,
why so, the answer uncertain.

But the feeling so unnerving, so much hurting.


I wish I was perfect, rather not this mental defect.
A broken upon vessel, grabbing onto cracks.
My insecurities my greatest weapon upon myself,

I give them many thanks.

For letting me realise of perfection being the silent evil of man wishing to be God,
Stone upon stones piling on the tower to try reach to the title.
Cast your own stones away for thinking you not a sinner of none.

Pray yearly to who gives your wake,
for sleep wishes to keep you her's, for she's a cousin to death.
Let that perfection fall off your heads for Heaven's Sake.


For the Heavens I know are crying as I constantly go back into my ways,
a continuous pattern of sinning I've spread out across my days.

Such tears fall upon my head, drowning me in guilt,
Filth is upon me from the hand of sin I've used to wipe my face.
Filth it is, the Heavens know too.

O' but you, so young and dumb,
Doing the many to yourself of self harm in the pursuit of fun.
Soon your life will be done.

And when you're asked what good you did with a life given onto you, how do you answer?
Lovers may say they'll die for each, but none can vouch one into heaven for each other.

For the Heaven's surely do cry for me, as do I.
But the Heaven's still forbid me to cry.

Lack the better skills in communication,
finding words in this hidden location.

It's beautifully who I am,
a painted picture of the shyness of this empty man.

Who looks forward to a lot of things while looking back,
and the life he left behind seems to find itself upon his map.

Her beauty is a painted picture,
a work of art.

Darling you don't need that much to make it such.
A little make-up just to tickle my fancy, but not too much.

A little attitude in that walk you make.
A little sharpness to that tongue to keep me straight.

Be out of this world,  cause you take the space,
Cause you're a painted star that knows it's place.

Had a girl with the face of the dawn,
my biggest failure was failing to leave her alone.

From her small giggle my heart had cheer,
my words lost, knees weak as sweat broke out as she was near.

A tiny whisper of her voice knocks the walls of the heart,
as the hint of her heavenly scent made angels cry.
The Heavens looked down upon such beauty so pure that no man could deny.

A glance of her many curves made your mind swerve in endless motions,
the thick of her hair was black as night and blew carelessly in the wind's whispers.
You'd fail to gaze upon her and not catch emotions. And you'd pray to all gods that surely existed to make her your Mistress.

But Mistress Beauty was never the easiest of catch.
She'd teased you with a tender hug resting her tender ******* on you, gently making you wish such a feeling could last.

Still even if you played your cards right, your deck would still be empty.
And by the next hand you'd play your last. For she's wise to the game of love and she's won that plenty.

But I was that lucky kid on the block,
a nerd to the eyes of many without much to give. But still trying to give a lot.

Still luck would have me, as I have her.
And often thinking about her by my side left my thoughts with only a blur.
But I was the guy she preferred.

So I had a girl, a Mistress of Beauty.
And though she's long gone to another man's hand, I'm still glad.
For I was first to have her hand, and glad that she knew me.

So to you Mistress Beauty. You were the only one I preferred.

For all the good times, the bad were more.
Yesterday was so amazing but tomorrow brings a sense of worry.
And right now today I'm kind of in a bore,
and sometimes I don't appreciate the little moments so I'm sorry.

For all the good times, the joy is limited.
Everyone knows what I mean for we're all witnesses.
And we all have a thought of when our good days are over. At the end who'll be missing us.

For all the good times, times are feeling low,
other days pretty slow. And the rest we don't really know.
So we'll see how it goes.

And if it goes to right don't be left behind.
If we going down low don't stay too high up in the clouds with a wondering mind.
And if it's out there in the crazy world; find safety inside.

Heck if you could, in the good times you'd act bad if you would.
In the bad you'd tick off the rest with your good mood.

For all the good times we secretly prepare for the bad.
And it's a unsettling fact, but don't be sad.
For the short while in the good times try to be glad.

For all the good times seem not to last that long.

Expect less of me and I'd give you more.
The Heavens ain't high enough, nor Hell's fires too hot.
For both ain't too ready for what's in store.
And both would see me at the top.

And maybe a lot would wish the best for me, but curse with the same mouth,
Swear to you things that their lips can't keep.
And by a peep, people would eye your rewards and want a piece.
Kinda figured it won't really change,
just repeating the old days.
With the old croaks with frog mouth.

But what really happened, to best of deeds.
When the wants were lesser than the needs. While growing large dreams started from tiny seeds.

Guess I'm too much of a slave to the past,
wishing for the old days just to last.
Filled with the better memories and fewer laughs.

But I ain't raising my voice high enough to give the world a speech,
But I am giving it a piece. Putting a lot out onto the table, not afraid of the risk.

So let the far edges of the world hear me high and mighty,
Cause my light words shouldn't be taken highly likely.

And I learned from my Dad that I don't need to slaved to people for them to like me.
So if my speech is a call to arms, come and fight me.

If I could imagine two, I'd imagine twice of loving you.
My feelings were unlocked while I picked at your heart,
And I need you now cause you're such a must.

As you're such a pretty eye. A pretty lady.
But I don't want to see you cry, when you're my Lady.
And I don't want to die. I know it's crazy,
Cause I'd hate to say goodbye. I'm never ready.

But my words are weak at your scent so strong,
my feet are cold, well my eyes are wet.
and without you all, it's but regret.
For my sight is short, still I'll see you long.

But I'd have to ask why love me so?

Dearly how I wake when I sleep, as I sleep through my wake.
My mind slowly falls out of shape,
and then becomes that empty space.