Goodbyes are never good.
And hellos are never hell...
Well..
Howcome its always hard to tell?

When i met Amy..
she waved, like the ocean in the horizon view.
i mean, picture a Goddess herself, locking her eyes on you,
hypnotizing you,
Telling you all infinity lies in you,
Her heart hides in you,
Her vocal tone rises you...
Like the tide..

under the horizon view..

but her theory was dark. Like the side of the moon we don't see..
Weird, *** most of the time she was joyous and joke-sy.

But she had a mental intent.
to rent, an individuals mind until her emotion was spent.

Pitched up her tent,
Now she lives in my head.
i cant get rid of her, feeling blue when shes wearing red.
i cant get ahead..

i need her,
I bleed her.
i read her.
i see her.
She runs thru my mind mind so much,
even my feet hurt.

but shes evil.
Reveling in my chaos and depression.
her sole mission is to leave me well wishin..
fishing for hope, with nothing in my view.
except the horizon.
i cant forget her eyes'n....
the way she caressed my hand in the midst of my anger.
but its sad to say her theory just brings me danger..

she says she cant be happy if im happy.

i cant believe she can say that,
I mean,
sure shes a Ten..
sure shes a friend..
sure when i ask her to come over she always says, when..
i mean i dont ever wanna put her down...
Amy's my PEN.
the pen that stood beside me when i wrote my lifestory.
the pen that stays truthful even if it gets gory.
the pen that keeps me sane and even takes over for me,
The pen that allows me the hope to reach glory..and see..
the same pen that forces me write daily im trapped,
Confined in this desk, Hennessy spilled on my lap,
lost in life, blank map im tryna fill in the gap,
Last thing i needs a fucken object that keeps giving me crap!

Still ill love her forever, and never ever leave, thatll never occur...
my pen, i named her amy and sometimes i feel that i write for her.



-afj

You can sense the sincerity in my breathe when i speak of my tragedies..
i wonder how life would be if i was born living lavishly?..
born with riches, and jewels, a chandelier and marble floor...
curtains, and high ceilings and a kitchen with French decor..

human race;
some of us start off with torn sneakers.
others born with nutritionist, and fitness teachers,
no i'm no preacher..
and no i'm not bashing the privileged..
but why pillage the fallen village, ?
so let me finish.

the human experience.
go to school for 20 years, work for another Thirty.
at best you'll retire at 65 and thats early..
Barely paid your house, finally own your vehicle...
only to enjoy it for a couple years and you see it go??

*** then you get sick, and your dead at Seventy..
who can uncover lifes secrets who has the remedy?
I think its out there somewhere but nobody is telling me..
till then, ill stay humming this silly melody.



-afj.