I can hear the angels sing.
As the stars glisten,
as the moon rises well into the night.
I can hear the angels sing.
Its very rare,
so listen,
to catch a glimpse of the beauty.
The angels dont sing often.
Therefore you must treasure the moments
Forever fleeting like a shooting star.
So Ivhold the angels close,
for hope that the song comes again,
once more

Somehow I found
A way to get lost in you
Let me inside
Let me get close to you
Change your mind
I'll get lost
If you want me to
Somehow I found
A way to get lost in you

i'm hurt
you're hurting me
*and whatever

Tired Eyes
stargazing at night
Cold breeze
moves swiftly by the queit home
Deep Breaths
taken in, to calm and conquer
Natural High
*received through natures beauty

Looking into the distance,
Forever wondering what comes next.
A whole world of possibilities lay ahead,
The only thing that stands in the way is my head,
Telling me what to do, what not to do,
But it makes it very confusing.
"We all want what we ain't got"
So let's enjoy what we have now.
Forget what has happened in the past,
And move forward.
The past can not be changed,
no matter how bad you want it to.
My best advice to you?
Start over, start fresh.
Every year we get this opportunity.
Take advantage of it.
Today, I have mine.

I'm writing out my story from start to finish,
I'm not quite sure where to start.
Everything flows out like a waterfall over a cliff,
pulling the strings and tearing my heart.

The buildup of stories have occurred over time,
and not one person knows the entire truth.
I wish I knew myself sometimes,
because everything is slowly breaking my youth.

The innocence I once had, is long gone now.
I've seen and heard too much.
Oh how I wish I could go back,
to when life was solely soft to touch.

I complain about plenty,
though sometimes I don't know what.
It's just nice to let out,
the feelings I keep shut.

For stories have conformed,
the me I am today.
Eventually I won't know,
the me that's got away.

*I have changed.

The guy at the bus stop, seen every Saturday morning, carries the battered and broken guitar case. He doesn't know where he is going, he doesn't know what his life will be. He smiles and tips his hat at everyone walking by.
Little does everyone know the emptiness he feels inside. His hair, cut neat-His
outfit, perfectly put together. His smiles, so big and bright: they mask his true identity.
He gets on the bus as per usual, weekly traveling down to the local coffee shop with the rest of his family. The guitar half fits in the seat beside him, as he sits waiting for another day ahead of him.
He will go to the local shop, sit on that little brown stool in the corner, and pull out his one prised possession. Music isn't defined by society, music is interpreted by the beholder. And there he will play the day away, seeing the smiles on the faces of others. They walk in, grab a coffee, make small chit chat, and walk out taking on the day.
Occasionally, a few people will stop, complement the plucking of the strings. With this, he will reply excitedly, explaining the new piece he has been working on. Most will smile and nod, some talk a little longer, intrigued by the musicality.
Others go up to the store owner, his mother, and ask for his name, for they truly enjoy the music. Nobody ever asks him for his name, and he never knows why. Yet without a doubt, he always dreads the answer coming from behind the counter.
Her name is Scarlett, his mom replies.
He hides his face behind his pin straight black hair that flows down to his waist. He looks down at the red and white polka-dotted dress, sighs, and continues playing.
One Saturday afternoon, right before his family was to go home, an old lady came and asked his mom for the name of the beautiful guitar player in the corner.
He heard the usual response and stiffened. The old lady noticed this and walked over to the corner.
May I ask you, the old lady begins, What is your name
His eyes light up, then quickly faded. He cannot speak of himself in front his mother.
It's okay dear the lady whispers, I used to have a family like yours. They called me Mark, but my real name is Lacey. You will be yourself one day, I promise
His face lit up once again.
He finally found someone who understands.
My name is Sean, he replies, this time-with a true smile.

take it.
go ahead, take it.
it won't harm you.
i dare you.

The evil serpet lies as it slithers down my back.
It's hiss and whispers send chills through my body.
I am stiff,
I am rigid.

I said take it.
You will achieve great happiness.
Just outstretch your arms,
and it will be yours.

Mind turns to greed,
My eyes turn red like the blood of the serpent's prey.
I open my arms, letting myself feel the power hit me,
knocking me to the ground.

See here,*
For you have taken what wasn't yours.
You have played my little game,
and for that, you shall pay.

I lay on the ground, blinking in confusion.
My eyes. They fill with water, they drain their color.
I cry red, hot, fiery tears that burn as they roll down my face.
This. This is the least pain I deserve.

One so familiar to me.

I've seen so many times before,
but it's different this moment.

I'm scared for different reasons,
never having these before.

I am fearless, yet I am scared.
I am the name on the screen.

just say the words, ******
come on, you don't have all day
(whispers) I-I-.....
******, they didn't even hear you try
The action races through my head,
the possibilities are endless.
Can't I just text them, Won't that be easier??
No, Sam, no. you have to do this in person
"I am...."
they still didn't hear you, you were always too quiet
come on, you had enough strength the first time
little bit more, you got this
"I* am..."
say it, look they stopped talking for you
come on, now you made it more awkward
"Are you okay?"
"Oh What? Silly me, yes of course I am fine. I just wanted to tell you something"
nice save? not really, now you have their full attention
"Okay, I'm here, what is it?"
****** ****** ****** I can't do this nope nope nope
breathe, you got this
why is this so hard? I've done this before
oh my god are you actually doing this
is this a good idea
run, run as fast as possible back to the closet
NO GOD ****** SAM JUST SAY IT
"I'm gay, not straight. Well, maybe I'm bisexual, I'm not sure yet."
what the **** was that
oh god what do they think of me
silence...silence not good NOT GOOD
and um you identify as biromantic homosexual, but sure close enough
STILL SILENCE SAY SOMETHING
"Oh! I wasn't expecting that, but okay! Whomever you love is fine with me"
"I-uh-um-Thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me....
I'm rambling
I can't stop myself from going on
what am I even saying anymore?
oh god I can't stop shaking
it's okay, they accept you, you're fine
or am I fine
Do they actually accept me?
How do I know the truth?
SHHHHH JUST STOP SAM YOUR FINE GOD
...and so basically Thank you so much again."
silence again, I said too much
I'm just going to stop talking....
...and thinking
they can do the rest of the work
*because in reality, that was **** exhausting

Whenever the sparrow falls,
it's there to catch it.
The robin watches the sparrow,
encouraging it to fly high, to reach their dreams.
The robin said something to the sparrow today,
The puzzle was put in place.
The sparrow is content,
the sparrow is happy,
because the little young robin,
made everything okay.

I think too much.
I make stories up, that will never come true.
I tell my self scenario's, that are impossible.
I hope for things, that never actually happen.
But it's always there.
Hope
Hope for, I can not say.
For it is not something that I believe to be true,
But it's something that I so desperately want,
So Hope remains.
What I say, What I do, I plan.
I have a meaning for everything,
because I think too much.
I overthink, I get scared, I get anxious.
Why must my mind question everything?
Can't I just live in the moment, see what happens?

No.
because that wouldn't be me.
I am someone who thinks too much,
Someone who worries about everything,
and takes everything to the next level.
My thinking may go over the top,
but it gives me occasional happiness,
and eternal hope...i think.

The sun rises,
The sky gets grey.

The internet runs,
The phone dies.

The music blares,
The dark stays.

The shade stays closed,
The door says shut.

There is a reason,
*for everything

The dove left awhile ago.
The flamingo stared as it flew away.
The sparrow sat silently,
watching and observing,
Knowing that eventually one would break.
What the flamingo doesn't know, hurts it.
The dove, in fact,has had its wings broken before.
It was said that the wings were broken to no repair.
The dove was paralyzed, could feel no pain.
It was numb, it was in vain.
The sparrow sat patiently on the side.
It helped the dove get back in line,
Time was the true healer.
The sparrow watched as the dove failed,
The sparrow watched as the dove grew,
The most important part,
is that the dove overcame.
Even the sparrow thought there was no return,
though it never said it, it believed it.
Until one day, the sparrow looked out,
and saw the dove flying away.
The dove had healed, the dove was free.
The numbness went down and it began to see.
Now, this is a message for the flamingo to hear,
The sparrow has everything to fear.
The dove never wanted to fly away and not come back,
Yet the flamingo desires exactly that.
The dove was able to overcome their pain,
so I believe the flamingo can do the same.
It takes time, it takes patience,
but in the end, it is worth it.
The world will be clearer, and the flowers brighter.
The sparrow can not wait,
until the day the flamingo can fly away.
But to fly away with its own wings,
with its own strength,
to have overcome this obstacle,
and finally be free.
The sparrow will wait patiently for that day,
Helping all the way.
The flamingo will soar high,
not has high as the heavens,
because it will be low enough to where it can fly back,
Back to where the sparrow sits patiently,
for the help it can give once more.

It rises,
It sets.
Sometimes we long for the end of thy day,
So we can start fresh and anew.
Others, we wish that day could last forever,
Holding it in your grasp, and never letting it go.
The Sun
A funny concept.
We tell time by it,
by a star.
What *is time anyways?
What does everything mean on this earth?
Something that happens now,
Will be forgotten soon.
Twenty years from now,
Will I know I wrote this poem?
On September 27, 2016 at 11:20 p.m.?
I may not remember the exact words,
But I hope I'll remember the message.
The sun rises and it sets for a reason,
to give us a second chance,
a brand new day to be happy,
*to be free.

You say its pretty,
I see it as a symbol.
a symbol of hope. Freedom.
colors blend together, showing unity
the unity desired by many,
fought for by few.
we all want it.
we all chase it.
only to find out, it can never be reached.
no matter how far you drive,
how far you walk.
you will never reach
that *** of gold,
that sits patiently
at the end of every rainbow

Impossible to find.
Something so simple,
so close.
Most people have it,
they are the lucky ones.
Effortlessly Easy,
Forever holding in their grasp,
what people are searching for to the ends of the earth,
but is impossible for them to find.

I love the trees
Mountains filled with snow
Icicles hang off the roof
Snowmen are built
Snazzy lights put everywhere
Yuletide is made gay
Opening presents before the light of day
Unwrapping happiness and love

is to listen.
To be here and there.
In the wind,
As it spirals around.

is to be patient.
To stay put.
In the line,
As it moves forever.

is to forget.
To walk away.
In the confusion,
As it builds more.

is to see.
To observe.
In the community,
As it crumbles down.

is to stop.
To glace.
In the thought,
As it whirls whenever.

is to be.
To exist.
In the sadness,
As it eternally soars.

To be omniscient,
all knowing.
Wished for over a long period of time,
desiring the unspeakable knowledge.
Clawing the insides, tearing up the mind,
due to the simple desire for truth.
Possibilities rounding the corner of every thought,
to be settled into a straight line of clarity.

To be innocent,
unknowing.
Wishing to go back,
desiring the knowledge be erased.
Cutting the outside, shattering the mind,
due to the impossible desire to reverse.
Possibilities never ending continuing around,
spiraling as if forced into clarity too soon.

Messages flow,
back and forth.

Only believe the truth,
what I said,
what comes out of my mouth.

If you believe others,
confusion sets in,
and more hurt is pushed around.

If you actually knew your facts,
you would've kept your mouth shut.
You don't understand the situation.

I may, mistakenly, be changing up the facts.
Maybe you do know of the entire left side, and I am wrong
Yet I know-I know for a fact, that you sure as hell haven't heard the right.

So step back, seriously.
you don't know the power you've created.
I would say I warned you,
but it's too late for that.

Good Luck-You'll need it.

I try to hard for happiness in others, and in me.
I try to hard to rid the pain in others, and in me.

I try to hard to make others laugh at me.
I try to hard to make others look at me.

I try to hard to make others like me.
I try to hard to portray an image that's not me.

I try to hard to disconnect the me,
I became.
I try to hard to find the me,
I once was.

I try to hard for happiness in me, and in others.
I try to hard to rid the pain in me, and in others.

*I guess I'm not trying hard enough

I feel like I lost,
You won.
I was winning,
What happened?
I was finally in control,
or was I?
It's all a hoax,
because I'm confused.
I'm making everything up,
everything does't have to be this confusing.
It's me.
I am the problem.
The only way to fix that,
is to have me go.
Everyone would be better off,
In the end at least.
I know it,
I'm sure.

I miss writing,
Writing the happy poems,
the ones before my mind left me.

The ones about fantasy,
about the me I desired to become.

All those have left this brain of mine,
The reality forbids I cross this threshold.
I know the truth in all, crushing the dreams I once had.

I am no longer confused, just curious.
I know not what I should.

I have lost myself,
and can never be found.
*To this realm I am eternally bound.

Only time will tell the confidence within,
the courage, the strength, behind the skin.
Near and far from the depths of the shadows
Breaking from underneath the grin.

Everything here are things that I chose,
Holding back, anything but the proper prose
Wearing down, and running thin,
Running away from those who appose.

I want to.

I need to?

I shouldn't.

I should.

No.

I can't.

I thought,
I speak,
I shut down.

I wait,
I hope,
I shut down.

I feel,
I breathe,
I shut down.

Unstable am I,
Traveling these shallow halls.
I fall upon the shadows, creeping down beside.

Shadows have always been my peace,
my prosperity.
A place I could call happy and home.

How can one cast a shadow of the broken?
Is there a crack in the shadow?
If so, Mine is split in half.

Emotions and me, they don't mix.
The serpent is right, I tempt myself.
As worrysome as it is, It is out of my control

Anger is something I never struggled with,
until now.
Concentration breaks with fury and rage.

I thought something had changed,
Like the last times before.
But my mind stays put, and the shadows remain.

How? How is it that easy?
I honestly can't say.
It has always been hard for me,
It's always been that way.

Tell me dear, how I can be fixed.
Mended from the past, present and future.
Otherwise, I'm not sure there will be the third.

Why am I like this?
Where did this come from?
Who have I become?

I said before, and I say it again.
I've lost myself.


*please help me find my way back.

The flower droops,
showing its true colors.
Leaves fall to the floor,
all shriveled and brown.
The little old vase was all that was left,
It's steardy glass held in the water
to keep the flower alive.
Around the rim, cracks began to form.
Nothing was done to fix them,
they were little, they didn't matter.
But today, they grew large.
The vase broke, water spilled everywhere
and the flower was left,
laying on the floor,
*helpless

The voices drag me from the shadows,
Dragging me to the light, to the sun.
They don't realize, my shadows will always appear in the sunlight.
I have no escape, from the little part of me.

I don't want to escape,
I want to stay.
The darkened side, will always stay.

*You belong to the shadows, and the shadows are where you will remain safe. Do not disobey

The wells have dried up,
There is no water left to spill.
They said this might happen,
if the well was used too much.

There is nothing left to do,
but to stare into the emptiness.
Letting voices echo, and music flow,
as the town fades into darkness.

Sometimes,
When you choose to,
When you want to,
You help me.
I feel loved, I feel happy.
Then you do this?
Ignore me? Never answer my calls?
I thought you were better than this.
What happened to the one I played basketball with?
The one who makes me laugh,
the one who is a stupid idiot, but I loved anyways.
Family, sticks together?
Really?
Okay, if this is sticking together,
I'd hate to see your ripping apart.

In all those moments I thought it was over,
I felt happy,
like the family was finally whole again.

I now realize,
it wasn't over at those times.
It was just hidden from me.

It has escalated to the point,
that they are willing for me to hear.
I just sit there confused.

In the thoughest of times,
They will always be there for me,
but not for eachother.

For at once I thought my family was whole,
Though I have come to realize,
There is a hugh hole...

*...and that's not what I wanted.

I'm the only one.
Nobody sees through my blurry eyes.
Nobody understands the thoughts that ramble in my head, because there is one me.
I cry because I have the energy to do nothing else,
and when that energy runs out,
I'm left dark and empty.
Just tell me why
because then maybe I'd understand.
Tell me why I'm the only one that believes?

Is it because I'm worried?
Is it because I'm scared?
I just-it hurts...
I wish she knew it hurts...

Through the glass I look,
the window that divides.
I see the beauty of the sparkling rivers,
the bright and cheerful flowers,
and the colorful leaves as they fall from the tree.
I hear the notes of the birds
as they tell a story through their graceful song.
The crack in the window brings in the comforting smell of
the fresh, crisp outdoors.
All this divided by a piece of glass,
A glass that lets me see, lets me hear,
but keeps me away.