Give me all your cosmos

For I need to get lost in eternity

To find something called

Happiness and stability

t’s hard, to use the method of escapism to deal with the reality around

For writing, music, games, art, reading, can be mesmerizing to distract

But sometimes it isn’t enough

And you still have to cry into a pillow alone at nights

Though it may sound as melodrama, the harsh reality is it’s true

For many are not lucky to have grown up in good homes

To have had loving and caring parents

That pain sits like a razorblade pillar in your stomach

And your tears sting your cheeks like saltwater acid

Then you have to muster up strength, and keep your hopes on an even level

And for those that are the unfourtunate ones, always know that you are wonderful

And that your cage isn’t permanent

I once walked upon the house of god, inside was a fog made of dust
The spiders silk all along the walls, the stale air of times neglect
And I saw a chair at the end of the hall, etched in blood I saw words
Throne it said, and no sign of life was around the house
Only the succumbing feeling of uneasiness, uncertainty
Was this the house of god, or was the just a house, merely a house
Had I found something I was never meant to find

Progress is a road paved with blood and sorrow, change is never truly peaceful

We as a nation must keep hope as a candle, lit in the darkest corners of our species

For we must not let those that sacrificed, become the statistics of meaninglessness

So we must walk with heavy hearts, and lead boots on bones and blood

For we will see a sunlight above the fog drenched roads

And the shining fate will be there to greet

For we are deserved better

Than sorrow and senseless cruelty

The romance you try to find, in all the little absences that no one seems to be aware of

The lone flower among the sidewalk cracks, the simple rays of light through the leaves

The purity you have to try and look for that, is something to be treasured in a world like this

Never try to give that up for another view, this world is cruel from the skies to the streets

You hold something organic that not many people have, nor too many people appreciate

But you musn’t let that cynical claw break your wings, for you have a pure soul that can help

Even if you don’t think that you can contribute, you are innocently unaware the kindess the world needs from you

You write such beautiful stanzas from the steps you take, the small smiles you give to the sidewalk warriors across the town

From the gentle touch you give the hurt pigeon on the steps, to the small laugh you direct to the mothers child

You have such a grace about you, you hold something purely universal in the fingertip hymns you conduct on those cups of water

You must never lose that joy you have so naturally, for it is infectious to those that see you as something to inspire towards

Magnificent is your speech about the breeze in the afternoon, you talk with an open choir of unapologetic happiness

Somehow you are a living version of a sonnet, a painting that walked away from the ink, and dawned flesh and bone

There’s confusion to try and figure your presence, for you are a candle of vanilla evenings, a soothing bible psalm in the eve of dark

Don’t give up your flower crown for one of thorns, you hold a golden river in the lovely iris of your eyes, an oasis in those freckeled cheeks

Sunshine in this morning can not look as radiant as your exuberant state,

illuminating you are to the day as it washes by on your waltzing beaches

How the atlas ribs seem to map out your inner content, something of the biblical purity, but never do you judge

Only to you help and love in the maelstorm that can arise, a rare type of creature you are, rare and excitingly amazing