talking just
to quiet the silence
is rather aggravating
at least to some
others disagree
they feel that silence
is rather distressing
and words are good
for any occasion
or even no occasion.

Selfish is the artist,
Secluded by his hand.
His world could fall around him,
He wouldn't give a ****.
In fact, you might just catch a grin above his chin from all the material given to him.
This sort of pride doesn't last long,
It never does.
There is too much pain in his heart for that,
Don't doubt it.

There is no dagger
Quite like betrayal
Its poisons
Infect fond memories
And the scar it leaves
May never go away.

sometimes
it seems so wise
so full of good sense
a nice bit of advice
yet on a second
maybe even third
or fourth thought
I realize its madness.

A follower of the marquee
A proponent of pain
Possibly handy
With a blade
Those viscous folk
Who feed on pain
What's the appeal
Perhaps it's just
A sort of quirk
Albeit of a more
Malevolent sort
I hope you don't
Bring them home.

There all messed up
These hands of mine
I have an image
In my mind
Of what they need
To draw
And what they make
Is quite off the mark
They don't build
Honestly they aren't
Even good fists
But there what
I have so I do
what I can.