The priest puts his trust
In martyrs and miracles
Clutching his rosary and his celibacy
To his bursting breast
And humanity walks
Through a series of cages
Every day

The ***** puts her trust
In bordellos and bodies
Clutching her money and her condoms
To her brassy breast
And humanity walks
Through a series of cages
Every day

The lawyer puts his trust
In regulations and rules
Clutching his charters and his decrees
To his dusty breast
And humanity walks
Through a series of cages
Every day

We each put our trust
In roles and rituals
Clutching convention and convenience
To our timid *******
So humanity continues to walk
Through a series of self-made cages
Every day

                 By Phil Roberts

You shake and you shiver and cry out for me
As you caress my neck with your lips.
You melt into me like the snow in the spring
And my shoulders can feel your snow's drips

Then the clouds open up and present their remorse
Recreating your tears with their rain.
Like bullets the first drops hail down on our heads
And commence their percussive refrain.

I pat your back gently and tell you with care
There need not be a reason for tears.
But the patter of water in puddles is loud
And I say only words you can't hear.

Bam! It hits me! They're fake! I know why you're sad
And the reason you cry is unclear;
You're not sad at all, your snow is not gone:
You cry only crocodile tears.

Its hard to write a poem when you don’t feel anything
I’m not quite numb
But nor am I happy or sad
I’m just here

Its hard to write a poem when you aren’t sad
I try to describe the feeling of everything but nothingness
But all that comes out is not how I feel
I try to describe the feeling of having a ******* cloud over you
But thats not what I say
And I try to describe how it feels to have a blade across your skin
But whats comes is misplaced words

Its hard to write a poem when you aren’t happy
I try to describe the feeling of love when my girlfriend holds my hand
But all that comes out, is nothing like how it feels
I try to describe the way she plays with my hair and the love in her eyes
But all that comes out is mumbled words with a stutter
I try to describe how she lights up my day
But all that turns into is sadness

Its hard to write a poem when you don’t feel anything
When I’m as happy as can be
But I still want to cut
Its hard to write a poem when you don’t even know your own feelings