A young boy watches wisely,  
Sees all the injustice, unravel,
He feels the pain in his heart,
Watching human suffering,
He became stronger and stronger,  
Because his hatred grew with pain,  
And his pain grew with each second,
He watched, he waited, he studied,
As the corrupt destroy this society,
He hides within their shadow of lies,
He waits inside their evil, patiently,
This boy, born into pain, and suffering,
He sits in their pitch black hearts,  
And they thought they were safe......
In the darkness.

Shh.....
You hear that?
Sounds like a keyboard.
Rapidly the tiny ticks of keys
pushes your mind out of ease
and please...... don't tease
the shivers and chills down your spine
it'll make your brain reset, re wind
to the start of it.
To the first hair raising on your neck,
to the second before the plane will wreck,
the constant uttering of a tiny peck
shifted by the sounds of little specs
that make no sound.
It's in your head just look around!
Nothing there, nothing found,
but just... pound pound
No.. no.. no...
Just your heart racing....
feet pacing...
T.... turn around...

Your legs ache, your head done pounding
the wind around you is eerie sounding
hands weak, and feet stinging
from washing someone's else's dishes
sweeping someone else's floors,
it's okay they would do the same for yours,
-sarcastic chuckle-
you trip over cracked cement,
try to catch yourself and your knees buckle,
you laugh even though it hurts like hell
clothes soaking wet but its dark they can't tell
"Can't believe i almost fell.."
you get home and the cold becomes hot,
you turn on the fan to hear it whirrrrr
the computer screen turns on and you feel at peace
you have been craving this moment
with crystallized crystal eyes,
you go to open your favorite game
but you have a better idea,
write a poem.

What do you know of pain?
The catacombs of agony contort accordingly.

People do not simply comprehend or
Adapt to the engraving that burns
Into the mind during torture they try but to
No avail,  they fall deeper within.

I see, the destruction in your eyes
The reckoning you realize
But to my surprise
Its comprimised.

You dont feel it you take it in
You breathe it out
Yes you!
Step away from this mirror,
Start your day.

People in poverty live by the hourglass.
Not a clock.
The sands are our moments where the struggle isn't felt.
It's still an hourglass.
In poverty the sands run out.
And it's time to be strong again.
To adapt again.
To "get through it" again.
Waiting for when you can reach out,
and flip that hourglass again.

I only breathe for you
I only think, for you
I only am,
For you.

The people as a whole
Aren't really people
are they?
Not individually
Not privately
In the quiet we're loud
Our very minds mold nature
Galaxies blossom like rain
fresh from sky on snow
Hearts expand through
Dimensions only thoughts
Could hear

Fragments of truth protrude
In public on occasion but,
Only by mistake
See this precious gift
is only shared through
knowing everyone else
can do it
without speaking of it
It's the freedom we share
With each other.