I knew a girl who liked to draw,
she drew pictures that nobody saw.
She was most artistic late at night,
in the bedroom, out of sight.
She kept it a secret, without giving any clues,
not a soul knew, and her gallery grew and grew.
It was a different kind of art, no paper or pen,
but needed some stitches or bandage now and again.
I took her to the dark and murky river,
which reminded me of my life.
It was then when she rolled up his sleeves,
and showed me her scars with embarrassed eyes.
I laughed at Irony,  and rolled mine up too,
"I draw as well", i whispered and stood.
Taking her hand, we jumped into the river,
and  rain of white feathers fell.
That's when the demons quited,
and the river turned clear  as the sun rose up ahead.

i always wanted to write about the true heroes
It's not about hockey stickers or football kickers;
face punchers, these million-dollar-heroes, they manifest no social change
It's about us the people, it's about you and me
It's about free givers who give of themselves for the good of mankind
It's about free changers who freely make change for the good of mankind
That's it, hmmm, changers and free givers?
Oh yes! Free changers in the face of diversity
and against any form of oppression,
never be apathetic to what is right
Never become fearsome in knowing what is right
Stand up for all your brothers and sisters,
here on our delicate planet earth
Say never to the numbskulls, who disbelieve in change,
even at times trying to educate some
When hearts go forth and attach to others
is the beginning of a selfless human being
When the sun never seems to rise,
join other heroes along the way
Everyday count your blessings what you and I fought for
Altruistic motivation is the greatest catalyst for real heroism,
take advantage of it my heroes and potential heroes;
i love you guys, keep on truckin'