Pablo is the drum that never stops beating
A sound that you can hear for miles
You can feel the good vibrations that surrounds his aura
A passion for music, an urge to go faster, and an endless amount of unconditional love  for everything
His words of wisdom
The actions we use day to day
Taught by him
and the seed of knowledge that he shared with all of us
We will take the seed of Pablo and plant it into the universe
For him and for all to eat from the tree of life
He has left us
Thank you Pablo for the music and the  frontside grinds. You are the sound.

A place where we feel minuscule
All the gray soaking our vision
Pushing for comfort
Faster for fear
The whole city on our glossy eyes
Not sure what route we will take
As long as our paths meet at the end
In our tiny city, with our big hearts
We come together as one
The moon connects us
If we keep our chins up
Pushing for comfort
Faster for fear
Away in the distance
The beautiful words of love
Pablo is always near

The feeling where your insides are in slow motion
You begin to feel your heart beat
Only hearing what is repeating in your brain
Making up fictional thoughts
Focusing on what is not real

The feeling that makes you go deaf
Your concentration is on one thing only
There is nothing in the moment that could help it
Mesmerized by what is not real

The feeling of being desolate
Emptiness brings bitterness
As sweet as this may be
You lose your appetite for it
Craving what is not real

It's like I try to close my eyes
But when they shut
My head starts to pound
I think about how attached I am
To the things that don't really matter
Beings that don't really be
An outrageous amount of broken beauty
Every little piece is there
But I always find myself
Gazing at what I think is real
Thinking about its existence
Wishing it was reachable

We need more pens
Why do we need more pens?
Because with these pens
We will write cool things
We can write poems:

Poem: Not Tangible
Space can't be ****** with
What is tangible
Humans are tangible
We can touch,
We can take
We don't need; we want
We want because we are
attached to the touchable beings
Being is hard; letting things be is hard
Being me means free
Free me
Please let me be  
I don't feel tangible.

Punched me in the guts
I know that I can't tell you it
You already know
Saying what ever is on your mind
Is saying what ever just whatever?
I showed you the part
Apart of me
A part of me
Part of me isn't going to be
Because what ever I can be
I will be
But what is a matter? I do not.
Punched me in the guts
I tried to say it
But you could not.

Swallowing dejection
The throat is throbbing
Fog is appearing
And smoke is covering
A reclusive setting
With no more company

An obstinate mind
Eyes set on you
Batty and insane
The color turns blue
Wasted feelings
Drunk off tears
Minimal breathing
The end is near.