Felt like the steel tipped edges of a fake sword,
A young lover's sting, inclined to make one sob
And feel sorry

But no, not a word
Spoken 'gainst the face of the snob
Never a parry
Nor a word against sherry

Why can't some people just see that I don't want to be found?
That I want to go without your criticizing my every move?
Without being allowed a mistake?
I sometimes even wish I could drift away from the world
Just run away from all you hypocrites that never let anyone
make a mistake except yourselves.
Why can't I just be left alone
without being afraid of my own thoughts
for once??

It's a cold and lonely world.
People can get lost.
Crazy things can happen,
Some at quite the cost.
People can be influenced,
Doing things they don't want to.
We can get confused,
Thinking wrong's right thing to do.
7 billion people.
It's easy to just exsist.
But I want more than that.
Instead, I want to live.

Nothing's asked
and very little said
two strangers lie
on either side of the bed.

Life ticks on
Like a rusted clock
to the eerie routine
all dreams are fed.

Yet there's a spark
that lights a fire or two
in the moonless night
it shines like a dew.

Morning comes
and rings the bell
pushing the tiny sparks
into hell.

And life ticks on
like a rusted clock.
Two Strangers live
on each side of their bed.

Achieve what can never be taken away from you,
Gain; what you can never lose
Learn to teach and teach to learn
the knowledge that you can forever use.

Wise men said
All that's visible will perish
Its what you have internally
that will flourish.

For great men never die
Their deeds of kindness amongst us lie

My Dad once held my hand
and spoke of this wonderland
where no man is great or small
courage and success emblazons us all!

So my dad taught me to reach a place
from where I can never fall!

Dear Motivation, you leave then return.
You come with a strike and exit without a word.
If only I could capture you to stay inside my head.
I seem to forget your presence, so you fade away instead.

Motivation, you are the most important in my universe.
With you, I can perfect a song I have never rehearsed.
Motivation, you give me the strength to conquer the world.
No obstacle is too large. All my ideas become pearls.

Motivate me, Earth- aurally or syntactically;
Whether it's through the beauty of nature or a man-made factory.
Give me that thrill, that power, that urge for thought.
Please hurry to me, Motivation. Don't leave me distraught.

I know you will arrive. In no way do I doubt,
But my impatience grows for you like thirst in a drought.
When you come near, oh, I will be sure to pull you in.
Because without you, Motivation, I'm a fish without a fin.

Thinking of consciousness seems, oh, so cliche,
But it's something we ponder day after day.
We each think we are so much different from one another.
Perhaps asking this question together will make us feel like brothers:

Is there a reason to our lives, a general purpose?
Are we just here to enjoy the universe? One big circus?
Is there a specific goal that we should be chasing after?
Or is that goal a ghost only determined by pastors?

I search for the true definition of the term "right",
Webster's dictionary leaves me with such mental fight.
It reads: "That which is morally correct, just, or honorable",
This vague syntactical predicate will only cause trouble.

Stand alongside each other and maybe we'll end this discomfort;
War, discrimination, and other human faults must divert.
We have the answer on the tips of all our tongues.
The answer that will make billions of people, one.

The blind man listens,
But for reasons unknown.
He hears vision's echoes
But is absent to nature's reality.

The deaf man sees,
But is speed more dire?
He lives in a tangible world
But is blind to its essence.

Drowning sun of neon skies,
Crystalline stars are the reflections of eyes.
Flame colored clouds over fields of sand,
Soft warm wind brushes this solemn land.

But have I forgotten the roar of a truck?
Shalt I forget the stench of the muck?
Has my mind been slipped of the sky scraping eye-soars?
Haunted by such waste for years or for scores?

We disregard the latter to see this world's beauty.
Is inhabitence of this earth a sin or a duty?
Destroying to create to satisfy our goal:
To develop a better world out of materials we stole.

Dark grey skies are excrements of technology.
Disappearing stars, my sincerest apology.
Clouds of smoke by unnecessary fire.
I do promise you, oh Lord, this is not the world we desire.