They say if you're poor, your lazy. Tell that to the elderly working minimum wage jobs, yeah I know ****'s crazy. Get a Master's degree just to end up working at starbucks, needing experience to work a low level job. We can all strive for success were all just getting robbed. When in need of a place, you need to make 3 times the rent, when we're only paid 11.50 or less and they wonder why millions are sleeping in tents. College professors are eligible for food stamps, while their CEO is eating up their salary. If I had to paint a picture more clear, it would be in an art gallery. Helping the poor is being put on a 4 year waiting list, government aid you can hardly live off of while the rest are just praying the Lord above. Having to apply to live in a shelter for limited time for people who carry less than a dime. I can say no more. A simple solution, we could only wish for. Now it's just a fight to the top, to make your living situation as solid as a rock.

I have dyed my hair a lot of colors-

It has been red with anger,
A statement of rage; symbol of fire,
I spent my days with my head in the sink
Putting out my hot-headed thinking
Choking on red water
And my own way of breathing,
When I was tugged on like a false alarm
Meaningless, and loud
A vibrant call for help
And I wore it proud

It has been blue with calm dignity,
When the days were easier,
When happiness was free
I remember how quickly the blue bled to green
That was okay with me,
I loved music and breathing,
And drinking beers on city streets
I was colorful graffiti
It was more of a fleeting feeling
Of matching the sky and the sea
Back when I wanted the world
To look at me


It has been violet in the violent hours,
I remember magenta showers
And tear stained smoke breaks
When the city never slept, always awake
Humming with the traffic on the freeway
In a car with friends and a future before us
Though my skin was a tight blanket-
I felt a smile beneath a purple forest
Where happiness tugged on my cheeks
And I wanted to believe in everything
Everyone believed in me, too

It has been black on the silent days
Somewhere between indecision
And bad taste; a dark fate  
Suffocating beneath a blank sheet
While I was recollecting
The lost and bleak pieces of me
That were almost swallowing me whole
I almost fell into the black hole
I painted myself as
It is much too dark now,
For the colors I so loved
They won’t be coming back

But lately, I returned to my natural state
To see how the brown curls will fall
Like branches on my growing shoulders,
Going back to my roots,
No more drowning myself in bathroom sinks
Looking for myself at the bottom
In colors that could not define me
I am sorry to myself for hiding
Who I am supposed to be
All those colors will always exist
In some place inside of me

But I wonder what my new colors
Will be

My dad told me when you quit drinking
You finally hear the birds sing
On chirping mornings or dimming evenings
That will now be remembered
Every January through December, from here on out
Now I count every rose petal and press them in books
Jumping onto roofs, but not jumping off them
No more praying on cold bathroom floors
Finally live up to all the promises I made
When I was nothing but a shaking core
Who didn’t ask for help, but begged
To hear the birds again

Sometimes Darkness whispers to me.
It tells me it is a place of comfort,
A place of escape.
No one can find you here, it insists,
You are alone, finally,
Just what you wanted,
Screamed for,
Cried for,
Alone, with me, it looks up
With a smirk
Don’t be scared,
I don’t judge,
Stay for as long as you wish.
When I leave, it whispers to me,
Come back, I miss you,
Escape the chaos,
Be with us...

Sometimes Darkness yells at me.
It questions who I am,
Why I am here,
I don’t belong...
I’m too intense...
I’m not good enough...
What I want is impossible...
It yells at me, until I yell back.

Sometimes Darkness stares at me,
When my eyes are shut,
I see it’s gaze,
It’s lure,
It’s disapproval and longing for my return.
It stares... and glares... until I open my eyes,
And find the light again.