Crystal tears,
Make up a diamond sea,
Where on the golden shores,
Glass roses grow.

But I picked the green weeds instead.

Wherever you are
whatever the day
however weary
or let down
just have
a kind word to say
somehow
you'll feel better
a happy mood
will prevail

for the undesired
you'd have cast away

let not your inner self
be trapped by any dismay
tune yourself
to the wonder
that will come your way

life is what
you make it
what you choose
makes all the difference
harness your effort
forge your way!

At the end
of the day
you'll look
at the sunset
and declare
I've lived
MY way!

Love should not hurt.
It should not feel like drowning—
drowning in you.
Love should not hurt.
I should not apologize for crying,
when you’re the reason why.

Love should not hurt.
It should not feel like being torn apart,
by the one who is meant to make me whole.
Love should not hurt.

But it does.
And I can’t stop it.
This love will hurt,
with or without you.

It only takes
Half an inch
To lay your head
On my shoulder.

Sailors clubs are better than the rich ones,
We've got sails instead of super boats.
The gentlemen, (the ones we've got)
Don't drink fine wines but draft beers.

There's no sparkle of gold spoons or diamond bowls,
But still a Sailor's Club is better than a rich one.
Why? Because where else will I dance,
A Sailor's jig.

Scary ghosts of uck halls
Threw lavish parties
And summer *****.
One criteria on the
Invitation read
You had to be
Physically dead

I didn’t stop me
I had a plan
I disguised myself
As a baked bean can

My Skelton mate
Went to the bar
Asked for a pint
And a mop
It was different
That night he
Never spilt a drop.

The band played thriller
Drinks went down well
Trap door opened
Out popped lucifer
From the road to hell.

Ghost of Dracula
And Frankenstein
Dancing singing
Drinking bottles
Of wine.

Party went on well
Past five
The bouncers evicted
Me because they
Found out  I was alive.

Next year
I am
Going to
be dead
Just like the
invitation read.

Ghostly ghosts
Of uck hall
Great parties
But not for all.

I wonder
What would happen
If people I knew saw my work

I think
My friends
Would be shocked
At what goes on in my head

And that my mom would cry
Both proud and sad

And my dad would either **** himself
Because he hates himself even more now
Deny and call me crazy
Or get mad

Sometimes I debate
Whether or not to show people

Sometimes
For the less personal poems
I show my mom
And she says
How I can try to publish them

Though I know they're not good enough
And that they might never be
Sometimes I wonder
What would happen
If I did
And they would read them

I hope that they won't
Completely change their opinion of me
That I've so carefully sculpted
And made sure was okay

The book probably called
"Silent Screams"
Wouldn't be so silent anymore