The problem is
People only see as far as the last sentence in the newspaper article.
They see that my best friend stabbed his father.
They see that he was planning it.
They see that he failed in his attempt to **** him.
They see that at 1:30 am he was arrested at the scene.
They see he will be tried as an adult for premeditated attempted ******.
They don't see anything else.

At our little brothers baseball games we would search for quarters to get airheads.
On the bus we would share stories about our latest failures.
He was trying to get sober.
He had failed to **** himself twice.
He had serious mental problems that everyone underestimated
He needed help.
He didn't get it.

He's alone in a juvenile detention center, isolated.
Mentally unstable and yet again without a support system.
Doomed for the rest of his life.

So excuse me when i tell you to shove it up your ***
When you say that i should stay away in fear of being remembered
Because all he'll do is remember you forgot him when he needed you most.

I am a slave to the world...
I want to be free...
But the thing is,
I don't know how.

Please forget me, you were right dear
I am cold and self-involved
And though I'll miss you, recent lover
I am weak and therefore fold

Get distracted by my music,
Think of nothing else but art
I'll write my loneliness in poems,
If I can just think how to start

Dot my I's with eyebrow pencils,
Close my eyelids, hide my eyes,
I'll be idle in my ideals,
Think of nothing else but I

I was in love
Your words charmed me.
Once.
I felt like I was in heaven
You fooled me.
Like a puppet, I was hypnotise,
A fool to your words & lies.
blinded
Not noticing your actions.
You stabbed my heart with a smile upon your face.
You promised to be there, but I guess I was in the limelight alone. Grieve became my logo.
I didn't realise the sorrow surrounded around me.
Until one morning.  I didn't love you no more

There's this girl
Who Climbed her way out of my heart;
Only to appear at my side.
She is sweetness.

If I believed in God
I would call her a miracle.
But since I don't,
I'll have to call her a universe.
In which I could never feel alone.

She is precisely the Kind of girl
I could write a love poem about.
Because every word I steal from her heart,
Is but a drop in a golden ocean.

So I sit as near to her as I can
And try to catch her eye
And smile to myself,
Because it is hard to hate a world in which
She will  always be beautiful.