Dearest You,
Don't you ever get tired of doing that? Throwing yourself at their unimpressed feet. Being stared down by their  cold  and too cool eyes. I guess, that quite simply, I don't understand.
You say you do it for the laughs, to make other happy, but honestly how does making yourself an idiot jester in their self proclaimed noble court make anyone happy? You just look empty inside.
And perhaps its another on your ways to mask this elusive hurt of yours.

Maybe

But I still wonder why you continue to try to climb up on that falsely glorified pedestal of theirs. Only to be left with scraped knees and bruises.
But how?
How to let yourself be stripped of your dignity and self- worth, how do you allow yourself to leave anyone who actually cares at your heels.  

Are they really that important? Are those 5 seconds of almost acceptance truly worth it all? We are only people, we crave to accepted.

But still

Perhaps its only me, but I refuse to value myself any less of what I'm worth. I refuse to lie to myself and to pretend that I don't care. I refuse to be pushed down and called inferior. I am sorry, but I can''t be part of that.

I just don't understand you.

Good Luck,

**M

love can mend your life
give you the will go on
make everything seem better

but love can break your heart
plunging you into despair
leaving something missing

All winter I've been wondering
where all the snow went.

But today I realized

that the heat from our fights
melted it all.

Now I wake to a drenching rain
instead of a magical snowy landscape.

How easily people stop to care
it really sickens me.

Did they even truly care in the first place?

A tradgidy they call it.

But what are they doing to help?


NOTHING

they just keep talking about,
looking back at pictures from years ago,
how much they've changed.

Do they not remember
that just five days ago,
20 innocents never got that chance?

Do they not even think
of what those families have to face
when Christmas comes by
and the pre-bought gifts are left un-wrapped?

Or what about the many kids going to school
and they don't have a teacher
because she was murdered trying to save them?

How can you ever forget anything like that?

Well I've been waiting, for a while...

So how much longer do I wait for these so called good things?

Maybe, I just want you to look at me and think,

Yeah, She is the one

Maybe....

There once was an Old Lady that lived down the Lane

She didn't give a **** about what people would say

She would Cook and Bake and Feel full of joy

Until one Late Winter night.

Something didn't go quite right.

With a Clickity Clack

Her cats ran away

Neither did she know

She would never see day.

She forgot the Sweet cookies she left on the stove

And the warm Bread Loaf That would always grow.

Soon she Smelt burning and the house tumbled Down

Poor little Grandma could only Frown

And Now to this day her corpse shall stay

And chase away who ever would came.

Shed scare the caretakers

And Burn them to

And now they say if you go in her house On that cold winter night.

You might as well Pray with all your might.

You'll soon smell the fire That burned that Old Woman

And You'll just stand there. And Keep on cooking.

Children between the ages of six and ten
boys not even close to being men
And you, you call yourself a man?
A man of what, of cowardice
a man of strange
of deranged
thoughts
scared faces
reduced to
scarred hearts
unable to heal
being torn apart
All the pain is too real
The eighteen children too young to know
to go to the unknown
A place set for a person no longer here
Eighteen children you robbed of their lives
put their families through all the fear
For what reason
Children no older than fingers on their hands
no younger than the time on their stands
standing graves for eighteen children
who won't know anymore of a summer breeze
or getting down on one knee
to pledge the love
the same love you took
from families
and victims alike
Causing all the strife
So you call yourself a man
when you stood before
eighteen children
That you put on their death bed
along with yourself
who couldn't listen
to his own **** head.
36 parents who have to
identify their child
who no longer roams free and wild
all because you exiled
The innocence and life
out of eighteen
bight
children
Tell me, what right
did you have
to be given the title
of a *Man