Amethysta
.  .  .

Your name is music!
Your shape is sleek,
Loose yet tensing edges,
As if the story is at it’s peak!

A book in amethysta,
A book in pretty ink,
A book with pretty lies and a beautiful mistake!

A poem in amethysta,
A poem like it’s touch,
Will a hear a poem that describes itself this much?

Pretty little style,
Soothing words you speaks,
A font for writing pretty lies for all the world to see.

*******!- where do I start?
This whole word has us all tearing each other apart,-
“White is Black?
Black is white?,-
Which one is better, I just can’t decide.”

This is all *******. How many of you ever had the experience?
They throw it in our face to keep us segregated.
“So, yeah eventually, they’ll tear each other at the seams,
Pull away from each other and start a war for you and me,”
Profet.
You see it’s all about the money,
And I find it pretty funny,
How they keep the system running,
How they keep us brainwashed, always grunting,
“Stupid white crackers,
Black people matters.
Anorexics just get fatter,
Bigger ******* get thinner faster.
Dark people whine,
They don’t even take the time,
To realize, that everybody matters,”
While you sit there making patterns!

We are judged by the clothes we wear,-
Despised because life isn’t fair,
Controlled by society,
These things deep inside of me.
I strive to make a difference.
Let everyone know, this world we’re living in,
Is only tearing us apart controlling you and him,-
When everything is about looks,
When everyone’s stuck in the hooks,
Where the only people who really took,-
The time to sit back and,-
Realize,
That the only real problem is one that we all just need to solve then,
And that is greed.
And I know what you mean,
When you say it’s in every phene,
In everyone,-
But if we could just flip the table,
And rewrite the constitution of this fable,-
Create a new story,
A whole new series to a book with a mile to go,
With a pretty perfect ending if we get it together for sure,
But it took a lot of,
Strong people,
Like General George Washington,
Or Abraham Lincoln who believed in truth, again-
We all need to agree on a change,
One that everyone will gain,
Stop making yourself insane,
It’s just the stupid ******* game!

We are programed to believe that “Oh it’s is here and it’s a thing”
So you follow it so mindlessly,
Listen,-
You’re being told what to and not, you’re being controlled by the world’s twisted knot.
They got you wrapped around their finger, telling who they think is better,
Do you even do your research?
Bet you’re a sheep just like your “leader”,-

They only give you what you need,
To live in greed,
Be so obscene,
They only feed you pretty lies,
Open your eyes,
Nothing!

You can’t see the things they throw at you,
You’re so busy getting what you need,
Striving for that newer thing,
Letting everyone think you got money,
Cause, oh it’s just a little bling;
Listen!

It’s distractions from the plot,
The reason you gotta trot,
Like a little tiny puppy walking around on legs so stubby,
But it’s like the same thing,
You they are owning!
Able to manipulate the minds of the mature,
Minds of all the children and taking them away from human nature,-

I say,
Just go and preach the truth, ain’t nobody gonna stop you.
If they shut you down,
Just come back around,
We hear you.
All the people who know what’s up,
They will stand so please look up,
Just go and release the world, do it for me,
For the people sick and tired of this god forsaken world.
We have truly gone too far,
Just look at who we are,
If an author were to describe us as a whole we are more like crashing cars.
This world can’t go nowhere but up,
Well it can but don’t let it get too corrupt.

Maybe it is I don’t know I’m just writing a poem,
And I’m pouring out my soul.

-Her Shadow Poem-
  -  -  -

I am nowhere to be seen,
In this cluttered mess of Mary Jean.
Clothes and hair lie on the floor,
Blood stains line a path to the door.
My bloodied body perfectly still,
Underneath the window sill.
Now that I have set the scene,
Listen to the ****** by Mary Jean.

Dark one night in the cold winter’s chilling,
Outside the store where I’d been living,
Cold as cold as cold can get,
No warmth was found in this woman I met.

Her hands were warm, and her words spoke right,
“Do you need a place tonight?”
My heart collapsed as I agreed,
To stay a night with Mary Jean.

She let me in and took my coat,
Gave me some old things that she wrote.
Made me tea and sang a song,
Just before it all went wrong.

I read a poem,
I read a song.
I read of dark and twisted *****.
I read of ******, of slaughtered scenes,
I read of simple nasty things;

I read of these with no expression present,
I read from these but they were pleasant.
I read of these and thought of Poe,
Thought of King and other folk.
“What a wicked fantasy!” my mouth had finally released.

She looked at me with stone cold ice,
Colder than the air outside,
Eyes that could freeze a wailing volcano,
Eyes that could still a grown man’s soul.




Doors had closed with no one near,
Her smile grew from ear to ear.
Running to the door I screamed!-
“Please just let this be a dream!”
As I drew near to the door,
The knife thrown to me, I heard it soar.
Ducked but this was my mistake,
She was aiming for my leg.
It hit me in between my blades,
Above my lungs, but my breath still fades.

Still alive! I’m still alive! I didn’t see the what danger lied.
A candle lit above me now,
She stood above me, one raised brow.

I felt her drag me to the pane,
Where I saw her raven slayn.
I noticed then that there were stains,
Red and black, some carpet plain.
She reentered with a black glass bowl,
Candles, feathers, and paper scrolls.
She spoke the words of the devil’s book,
As she did the cabin shook.

She then bent down and, I halfway gone,
Spoke the words of a beautiful song.
“The stars may shine and the moon is out for you to see,
But the sun never shouts in jealousy.
You admire the sun as much as the stars,
The sun is what gives you who you are.
You bid by night and travel by day,
You play your cards and slip away.
Moon man sees and he does seek,
For what is found should not be meek.
Your pride is weak and trust is high,
That is why I sing tonight.”

The song settled in and the song was mine,
To me she had given me my own life.
She took mine in to make her song.
I’d been singing all along…

I walk these halls and bitter cold rooms
With nothing but the thought of you
And sometimes I begin to wonder
If you did the things, I ponder.
Did you hurt a person badly?
Did you hurt a person, sadly-
I cannot stop these from coming-
Soon begin to fear the following.
Will we last a lifetime like we said?
As we lie down far away in bed.
Nothing goes down, nothing went wrong,
You stay polite as I think of this song.
How did I choose you?
My thoughts begin to shrink;
Nothing in my mind will go in sink-
And now I'm scared, a rhythm plays,
A song I know too well and still I stay.
I love the way to talk to me,
The words you say the way you speak,
And still I wonder why I think of it,
You say it's okay, and we both just sit.
We're quieter than what we were before,
Because I think of deception and of her.
The lies you say she told to them,
The lies you say, they still condemn-
And now I start to cry and hold a tear,
A tear that falls along beside my fear;
Of you I try to trust your word, your voice,
But the more I look, the better choice:
Is this all an act, a ***** game?
Upon a heart of darkness littered pain?
Am I in love, am I in Hell? I feel insane,
A story tell, about a long and ruined road,
A road I walk with me alone.
I say I love you, I say I do,
Questioning my reality too-
Holding your name way up high,
Should I really? Or should I,
Just say the truth and end the lies?
Before we die, before we die...
I want you gone, I need you still,
Just say my thoughts, I have the pills-
I love you, love you more than life!
For this is true I take my knife,
Hold it to my throat and sigh,
I love you, and to this goodnight.
I need you dead, I need you dead,
I see you in the mirror little tear I shed,
Am I dead? God am I dead?!
Is this hell, my Hell just as they said?!
This consant feeling of lifelessness,
I want it gone, need it to end!
I need me to be okay but the more I talk there is just more pain!
Condeming myself, holding myself accountable,
For things I didn't do I am not responsible!
And the feeling of guilt corresses my cheek,
I did nothing hear the words I speak!
It's all my fault I say to me,
I blame myself for I decieve,
Myself and only me, I know my pain it will not leave!
A poem speaks the rath of me,
The rath of me, myself and greed,
It is something I do not behold,
I show my kindness to the world!
And still I talk so mean about myself,
The thoughts I speak hang of my shelf.
They ask why I speak badly of me,
Do they not know what I see?
I am crazy I am sick,
Twisted in the mind I knit,
A woven scarf that I hang by,
A piece of thread to watch the light die.
A needle in my heart and lungs,
Pins and scissors scar the memories of fun!
Oh I am not normal I scream aloud
When no one else is near, around.
I narrate life in third person too.
And still these thoughts were ceased by you.