Memory lane...
What a disastrous place to live.
Some wealthy mansions
And most lonely hobos in cardboard boxes.

Some grass is green
And some grass dried to death.
The lily pond is there
But gone in the same second.

I remember that lily pond...
I fell in it because you pushed me in.
What a beautiful memory right?
Two young kids without a care in the world.

But growing up changes people.
I was never keen on growing up because
That would mean to push away my
Childish soul.

You, dear friend, felt the same way.
Growing up felt like
The imprisonment of what was left of your
Careless ways.

I guess you wanted to be a child at heart
Forever.

I still look at that lily pond and wonder
"How can it be that deep?"
It was deep enough to hold you
And there was still room to hold me.

When you did it...
What did you see?

Did you see me riding my bike alongside you?
Did you see us dancing in the wheat by the farm?
Did you see Mr. Wilder yell at us when we did go in his field?
Did you see the night were you first told me how you felt?

If you are happy...
Then I am happy.
But I miss you old friend.

Memory lane is such a disastrous place to live
Because I can still see us jumping by the lily pond
And you pushing me in...

Fireflies in a jar . . .
                         Camping by the fire . . .
Looking at the stars . . .
                          For all the world to admire . . .

All things found in nature
Are being destroyed for mans greed.
We believe that we own this world
But truly it belongs to me.

My mind has killed me in a thousand different ways but only you could torture me.
Only you know how to tear my heart open with hello and scorch it with goodbye
Mangle my desires and bleed me dry.
Only you could make me believe in snow in July.
For a taste of your love I was prepared to gamble my pride.
Maybe you would have known if my words were not a scramble but you never did try.
My heart has been broken a thousand times but never like this, and for what?
I can't even call you mine.

I just want to lay my head down to sleep
And dream of you and me.
We can bask in the afternoon sun
And you can be with me.

But dreams fade.
My phantom will meet its tragic end.
However she will haunt my dreams forevermore.
This nightmare will never end!

Darkness is my muse...
The nothing has a nice taste...
It stares coldly at something...
I can picture everything in its shadowed frame.

I fell into it...
That blank face...
You are my oblivion...
I love the ring to that name!

Perfection is a horrid word.
It sets almost impossible standards
And causes more broken hearts then exes and ohs.
It causes starving dolls
And robotic children who conform
To the whispers of the notorious mother culture.

Unfortunately, nothing will change
Because most will never learn this
Universal Truth.

Oh Queen of the Night
Why must you wither before the morning light?
The gypsy among the burning sand.
The sun with its burning wasteland
Pales in your brooding sight.

Live just one more day
Because the sun hates what it can not touch.
Oh, what a tragic love!

Warmth and Isolation.
The main drive in Human Nature.
As I sit in my version of Isolation
I feel the heat roll off my skin.
As I sit there I see the curtain moving.
I dare not open it.

Cold and Loneliness.
Nobody really wants to talk about it.
When people feel it that's when they shut up.
I know it’s out there, it always is.
It never goes away.
It is just something that we have to deal with.

If I open the curtain
My enchanted facade will fall apart.
But indelible the Warmth will run Cold
I will have to leave the Warmth and face the inevitable.
But that is okay.
The Warmth runs out anyway.

I can feel it.
The Warmth is going away.
Where has it gone?
Why can it not stay?
Why does it leave me when I need it the most?
But I will survive somehow.

Once I turn the Warmth off
I feel it leave my skin.
The curtain waves at me.
Beckoning for me to open.
I stand up
Forced to leave my warm Isolation.

I stand with the Cold on my skin
And I became aware of something that was not there before.

I have been told of my pessimistic views
And told to lighten up and look for the best in life.

How can I do that when I only trust myself?
And for that, there is a reason
But that is not a tale for today

I am not reminiscing.

Sometimes when the ropes of
Betrayal is too tight
You find out who will be there
To tear it with their teeth
If needed.

I never wanted a castle made of gold.
                             .     .     .
I just wanted to live on a lone cloud.
                             .     .     .
                           With you

silence can be a blessing and a curse.
it all depends on what is occurring at the moment.
if people are telling you to change and that you are a waste of time
then silence is a blessing.
if you are alone and the silence echoes in your head and whispers
sharp words then silence is a curse.

why is there no sane voice in my life?

I feel like a broken clock.
I always want to move forward but I go 10 minutes back.
I hang on the white wall with red dots and tick to the beat of my dead heart.
When someone notices I am telling the wrong time they
Drop me in the box that
Is labeled

Rejects . . .

Then one day they take me out of the box
And hang me on the wall again.

Like a broken record they do this sick cycle again and
                                                                              again and
                                                                                      again and
                                                                                                   again . . .

Do you remember when I strolled past you
On that lazy summer day?
You laid on the bench
Across from mine
In that park that no one cares about.  

I went over and sat by you
On that blissful nostalgic day.
The next day you were still there
In the same place as always
Looking beautiful as ever.

I grabbed you from that bench and
I took you home in my pocket
And gave you a new home.
I watched you grow throughout the years
I fell in love with you and buried my tears.

Things around us are changing my dear
The old is out and the new is in.
I am afraid that the machines are going to take you away.
This place is going to be gone by tomorrow
For something that gives no sentimental value.

Just know that I love you.
I wish I could bring you with me
But your roots are too deep.
If people had seen our tragic love
Then maybe you wouldn’t be destroyed.

Do you remember when I strolled past you,
On that lazy summer day?
I think that was the biggest mistake that I ever made.

As I walked down the closed trail
I came upon a frog and a snail.
They seemed to be arguing
About who was better at flying.

The frog said:
"Of course I can fly higher! Watch me jump and soar."
                               p
                         m        e
The frog     j u                  d  and sneered at the snail.

The snail said:
"You did not soar like a bird Mr. Frog. You should try again."
                                            P
           ­                           
                               M                      E
The frog     J   U                                        D  again and came back down.

The snail said:
"I believe I could do better than that. I will give you one more try Mr. Frog."
                                                          ­        .     .                                  
                                                  P  .    .  

                                      M
                        ­   U
The frog    J                                                        ­    

I looked at the snail and asked:
"Why did you do that to your friend? I know you saw the bird in the tree."

The snail said:
"He annoyed me too much."

I got so angry and without thinking I stomped and he went SPLAT!!!

I don’t like to put on the mask
It hides who I truly am
It hides my wounds
It hides my scars
Or at least that's what I thought.

Without it they snicker
They jeer
They laugh
They sneer
They think their actions are invisible.

With it on they whisper
Fake compliments
Fake love
Fake people
They all learned to hide and observe.

I guess with the mask on or off
They are all the same.
So why do I always hear the whispers?
And why do I care?
They are all the same.

I guess it is best to live with the mask on
Then they are oblivious to my pain.

When did I turn into the monster
That you see?

When did you begin to quiver
When I came near?

When did you call me the monster
Under your bed?

How unfortunate
You will not care when I am dead.

                             Am I really the monster that you see?

I can hear her pounding on my roof.
I can see her gloominess in the sky.
I can smell her sweet aroma throughout the wind.
I can taste her tears falling from your cheeks.

She beckoned me outside with her intoxicating song.
Her fluid movement like a ballerina in mid-flight.
Her sweet singing luring me in her luscious embrace.
I wish I could stay with her forever but the storm was almost over.

I love her jealous tempers that come in gusts.
I love her misty hair twirling in the ferocious wind.
I love her alluring aura that shines above all elements.
I love her impish laugh that is carried throughout the valley.

I am in love with the rain.

Why do I feel so alone?
Why is love so unattainable for someone like me?
Why can I not cry?
Why am I so desolate?

I am beginning to crumble.

I am gone.

I feel as if I am not writing these words.

I feel as if my hands are tied with strings
And my ghost is the puppeteer.

                    000
               00000000
            00000000000
          0000 R.I.P 0000
        0 THE SINNED 0
      00000 POET 000000
      00000000000000000
       0000000000000000
    1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

Howling and beckoning
The wind brought me to
A young woman standing in the tempest.
Hair like boughs but disintegrates in seconds
Her dandelion soul just out of reach.
When I grasp her hand she fades out of view.

Goodbye dear friend...

To whom it may concern,
You do not know me and I don’t know you.
You will probably have no effect on my life.
We will never meet by chance
Or fate.
That stuff is just pure imagination.

To whom it may concern,
I will never experience love at first sight.
I will never be saved from the tower.
No prince will sweep me off my feet and carry me away
To a castle and make me queen.
That stuff is just pure fairy tales.

To whom it may concern.
I will never look deep into your eyes and see a future.
I will never be dazzled by your smile and your laughter.
I will never be charmed by your good looks.
I will never be held in your warm embrace.
That stuff is just pure hopes.

To whom it may concern,
No one will be mine
And I will never be someones.
So let's just go our separate paths
And never think of each other again.
That stuff is just pure reality.

Two roads . . .
One side is light and the other
                                               is dark.

You, the reader, would naturally assume
That I chose the light path
Because the light exposes secrets and deception.
                                          
                                                But I am being guided by a fox . . .

He told me to go down the dark path
                                               And being me I was gullible and went with him.