nameless acts, frowned upon the crease of their eyebrows and the purse of their lips. acts tasted by few, and by even fewer than they, held carefully on the tip of their tongue, afraid to let the act fall away, but to afraid to gulp it down. act at which most must act upon is seen as no more than a one second glance.

' The comparison between the big fish in a small pond and a small fish in the ocean can be related to an egotistical man who finds himself the big shot but is locked in such a small world he has no real dreams or aspirations, all he can do is swim around his small pond of knowledge because that's all he knows. Yet the small fish, a boy who's only wish is to be better and dreams of new possibilities has the entire ocean to explore because even though he's not the big fish, he knows there's more out there than a simple pond of life, thoughts and dreams. The bigger dream is no more important that the small dreams, just as the small fish isn't less important than the big fish
-m

just when it all seems good, the dust stirs and the choked blackness prevails and I suffocate in the midst of all these problems and the more people's feet step in the more the dust flies, I can't stop the cries, this everlasting circumference of circumstances. my heart it vents to die, oh why, do I believe the goodness will ever stay.
-

small spaces/no air, blackened eyes and ******* hair, keys/gone underneath the chair, keep looking/ find it no where, no light/ switch to the dark ones, empty beds/heads filled with questions/answers to complicated situations/ excavations of the past/ at last I find the keys/ he's my answer/dancer in the light, long nights left alone in the dark, searching for my one true side, we collide like a fork and a spoon/ curving soon to the metal handle, like 3 arms holding up these candles. red hot flame, burns the blame/ game for us to play/say do you hear the silence that is conveyed/ raid their hearts and fill their lungs with smoke and jokes/ notes stuck up on this wall, waiting to fall, like leaves/ he leaves me bare to the branch, I'm left standing on my own two feet/beat to the finish line/ spine traced and bent to carry the key for the next generation/ they want an explanation, why she is so broken/ outspoken, a her but not here. come on dear fetch me a beer

the curtain. this metaphorical object,
drawn over the eyes of those who protest against
their sight, this curtain of dark unwanted thoughts,
reins freely behind these hanging cloths, the protester
seems to speak of the light, yet is stuck behind the
curtain. this metaphorical object.

there are three kinds of people, the breakers, the fixers and the broken, the breakers cannot handle happiness in others and so they have to break those who are happy, the fixers are the ones who cannot handle others being in sadness or dispair and they do all they can to fix the broken, the broken people are the ones lost between being breakers and fixers, constantly breaking themselves down and trying to repair themselves back to normal again. /and everyone is trying to find there place between the breakers, the fixers and the broken, everyone wants to be a fixed person perfectly okay without cracks or broken pieces, but there are only three kinds of people.

-moyees