I've embraced my nothingness
My cosmic insignificance
And my indomitable will
And drive to make a difference.

So though the world forget my name,
and **** me with no shred of fame
I'll take my chances just the same
To bridge the gaps that leave us lame.

I'm not so vain to need to know
Who'll miss me when it's time to go.
Even if my crew won't grow,
My heart, my fellow man, I'll show.

I dreamed about you just last night.
Woke up, and the world's just not right.
My head hurts from the blast of daylight
My heart hurts but I play I'm alright.
I pick up as the day rolls on,
Chin up although my face is long
Fresh reminder you're really gone
I feel weak from acting this strong.

I'm doing well enough, you'd be proud.
I've learned to walk against the crowd.
I don't play my music as loud.
Feet on the ground, head in the clouds.
I remember all that you told me.
Each praise, each time you'd scold me.
Trying to live to be an old me.
Trying not to become a cold me.

The hardest part of life is that it ends,
That we say goodbye to kin and friends,
That's why I work on making amends,
Instead of keeping up with the trends.
Though you taught me to be a man,
I feel like a child now and then.
I face life with a will and a plan, but
I'd trade it all just to hear you again.

I move on, man, I'm strong enough.
I've been doing this long enough.
I've sung my old sad song enough;
Now I shut up when the road is rough.
But if it's weakness that I cry at night,
It's not a point that I'll try to fight.
I feel weak, and my chest feels tight,
I need to hear you say I'll be alright.

Amber was an atheist,
she thought the world was dumb as hell.
Britney was a botanist,
who had a fertilizer smell.
Candice was a coroner,
a scary passion for the stiffs.
Diana was a drummer chick,
that knew a few guitar riffs.

Evelyn was evil, man,
all leather suits and chains and whips.
Farrah was a therapist,
got in my brain with swinging hips.
Greta was a gunslinger,
she'd give most anything a shot.
Hannah was a homebody-
shy as hell, but twice as hot.

Iris was an Ivy Leaguer,
thought I was a total fool.
Janice was a juggler,
who liked to play with power tools.
Kimmy taught karate,
who dated me just for the kicks.
Louise was a lyricist,
who wrote about how guys were *****.

Marilyn was mostly mean,
she liked to fight and then make up.
Nancy was so negative,
I had no choice but to break up.
Opal was an occultist,
who liked to gossip with the dead.
Paula was a *******,
that made me pay to come to bed.

Queenie was inquisitive,
the questions were too much to bear.
Rosie was a recluse
who never shaved or brushed her hair.
Sidney was a sinful sort,
with toys and gadgets 'neath the bed.
Tina was a twisted chick,
with thirteen voices in her head.

Ursula was uber-cool,
always on the latest trends.
Vicky was on Vicodin,
and we all know how that one ends.
Wanda was a wanderer,
that left to join a circus troupe.
Xena the exhibitionist
liked to do it on the stoop.

Yolanda was young and fine,
and nearly cost me everything.
Zoey was a Zombie fan,
she got hot when he would sing.
I'd like to say I've settled down,
but since the alphabet is done,
I'm gonna met an Ann or Anita,
and give it all another run.

Smiles
Laughter
Joy
Love
Kindness
Bliss
Warmth
Hugs
Kisses
Embrac­es
Flowers
Chocolates
Sunshine
Drizzle
Coffee
Tea
Touches
Whisper­s
Hope

There is so much for you to be grateful about.
Even if survival is your only goal today, pride yourself on that.
At the very least, you are strong enough to hold on.

We tend to land wherever we are hurled.
I lost the will to count on the unseen
when I became a man and met the world.

To tell the truth, it left me caught between
maturity and blind and childlike faith
I lost the will to count on the unseen.

Beliefs and conscience haunted like a wraith.
I struggled with identity and trust,
maturity, and blind and childlike faith.

Alas, in time, we all learn what we must,
and give ourselves no small amount of grief.
I struggled with identity and trust.

Was it for self or kin I claimed belief?
We tend to ask ourselves what we can't know,
and give ourselves no small amount of grief.

Maturity, it seems, just comes on slow-
we tend to ask ourselves what we can't know.
We tend to land wherever we are hurled.
When I became a man and met the world.

Serendipitous existence
in the midst of burning journey-
oh, to die within your hands,
safe from sun and searing sands.