I'll tell you why i like being at home.

It's the silence.
Not a sound can be heard.
No footsteps in the hallway,
Or cars driving by.

It's the darkness.
The curtains are just  thicker and darker,
And light ceases to pass through.
Not even light slips beneath the door.

It's the bliss.
When I look up as I lay in bed,
All I see is the darkness.
And in the darkness can be whatever I want it to be.
I dream while awake...
Because when I close my eyes all I see are nightmares.

You were as simple a man as you needed to be.
You'd sit us by the bedside,
And read us a story.

I remember the way you joked,
Even about your darkening heart.
You never wasted a day,
Not till the day of your depart.

I knew how you wanted to go,
Peacefully with the breeze
That carried along your soul.
I knew that you never wanted us to cry,
The jolly old man,
That would never want to bring a tear to an eye.

You were a king in your own right,
The humble man on a throne.
True kings aren't buried in coffins of gold,
Their buried in our hearts,minds... and souls.

Sometimes I want to start a war.
Burn to the ground all that lays on this plain,
Till nothing but ashes lies in my wake.

Is it wrong that I relate more to the Villian than the Hero?
That when I think of power,
I think of control?

Is it not scary...
That when the rage subsides,
I'd still stand by these dark thoughts?
I want to burn it all to the ground,
Myself included.
Then maybe it all can begin anew,
And none to come will share these thoughts.

I used to fall in love.
I'd feel every fibre of my being ignited,
Every atom in my body excited,
And in the majesty of happiness I felt purpose.

When I would write,
I wrote.
I felt the words fountain from the tip of my pen,
Like each piece knew what it was meant to be.

Everything made sense on a page.
And I always smiled,
Proud of what I displayed.

I wish I could write on that passion once more...

I know all too well what it's like
To feel sidelined.
Walking on the outlines
Of the portrait of a lifetime,
Part of the background,
With muted sound.
Feeling like there's nowhere to look,
But down.

I get it.
Feeling your heart beat,
But your hearts don't meet,
And you wish the feeling was not this sweet.
Your mind tells your heart to retreat
But it's not as simple a feat,
And as you walk away
So to does your mind stray,
Till you can all but see the light of day.

It hurts to be the watcher.

The kids run amok
Setting fire and flame.
Trying to fix the world to which they lay claim,
Yet burn to ground all the good that remains.


Ignorance is the very thing that they oppose,
Yet ignorantly they justify the way that it is shown.
Pulling close the blackout curtains,
No light dare reach their shallow minds,
Filled with dreams of A freedom,
Yet robbing it blind.

All the things defended,
Yet they remain so easily offended.
When words don't come out as clear as intended
They twist it and turn till it is all but mended,
Then fight valiantly for its defeat
Looking not at any of the good,
But only at bad tweets.

Following the crowd,
A mob that only looks down at their feet.
March for it all and fill the streets,
Never looking at the facts,
Because it does not fit the narrative that they preach.


These kids run amok.

Hypothetically if I fell in love,
 I'd love you the world over.
Hypothetically if you were mine,
You'd be my moon and my sun,
With a hold on my heart and my mind.

Hypothetically if I could only do one thing a day,
I'd sit at your side,
Laughing all the way.
Hypothetically if I had to chose,
There would not be a thought of any but you.

Hypothetically if you loved me,
Loved me like I love you.


Hypothetically if you could see me ...
The way that I see you.