When I grow up
I want the world to be happy
Because as of now
It is not

For you see
This world is shrouded in hatred
And love can be bought

All around conveyed love is being traded for physicality

As the players get stronger
And the girl
She cried out to a diety
She doesnt even believe in

Because he left her
Broken
Bruised
And
Pregnant

Leaving her for another girl
One with a bigger rack
And ***
Even though she shook hers
Every night on stage
Baring her body for strangers

Only so when she goes home
He can unleash his rage
So she gives him her money
And he loosens his grip on her
Freshly
Dyed
Hair

Then he'll pretend to care
As he invests her money in his new Jordans
Instead of rehab for his
Crack head lover.

because he never loved her.
If he did He wouldnt be saying
"That baby isn't mine."
So he can spend more time
With the new girl by his side.

A girl who's snorting coke
And lets strangers hands
Travel up her bruised thighs

I Cant be happy seeing this world in this disgruntloed state

Because A young boy hangs up
A flowery dress in a closet full of
dusty skirts and heels

His moms attempt at making him
"Normal"

Because what you don't know is he was born a She
But she wants to be a he
And he doesnt know somewhere out there
A he wants to be a she

But they feel more alone
As their parents threaten to send them to camps
In failed attemps to make them
"Okay" In the eyes of
Their God

So he lays in bed
Blood pouring from his
Self inflicted wounds
One for every missed label
As they call him a her
Or he a she

But they don't see it
"It's just a pronoun right?"
Maybe to you
Because you haven't fought
your whole life
To be called something few
are open eyed enough to see you as.

But he can see it clearly
as he pins back his hair
and puts on his binder

He has the acumen to charm
His words don’t reveal his mind
With your emotions he plays with skill
He is a charmer deft in his art!

He preaches what he doesn’t practice
His craft hides from you his real face
In his life he has never given peace
Never brought one soul happiness!

His art keeps the audience enthralled
His songs make the listeners sway wild
But in him is a devil installed
He is farthest from innocence of a child!

What he shows to you is the husk
You never get to see the real face
A charmer his art is a mask
In life he **** cares goodness!

It's so simple really,
'Let the pen write,
tell my tale,
explain how I feel!'

I cannot!
The pen is eager,
in hand.
My mind,  however,
is stubborn
and secretive

I don't want to write
although I feel the urge.
My thoughts,
are not clear enough.
I 'suspect',
yet I cannot express.

this is a rant
on who the painter is who paints a white canvas.
who makes it blank, all the same?
Who paints with one color, the confused?
My painter, the one who created this canvas
this universe this creation
paints with many shades of
variance. He paints not
one nation, not one race, not one star, not one season,
he paints
many faces,
many days all different
many nights some dark
some radiant.
He painted  us the colors
of all of heaven. Gave us the many shades of gray.
He painted a sunrise yellow of goldest glow,
a night to see the day with a new perspective.
He painted choices right
and painted us the freedom to choose.
Trees of many green with barks light and dark
some are white. All are right.
Remember who painted this.
He painted a sky
not always blue.

Yes, I may get sour, even  
Angry, at things where my
Reaction has effects.

Caring little about spending
Myself on distant affairs,
I am an ambassador of common

Decency. Not some moral police,
But a surrenderer of seat
To an elder standing in the

Aisle. I'll find the owner of that
Dog left out in the rain. You may
Be a brother to me; still

I'll ask you to keep your
Voice down if I see
That it bothers

Others. I've been that guy myself.
A thirty-something-year-old acting
Fifteen, making others change tables,

Or even leave the premises.
I've taken up more space than I
Require. I don't wish that

Retrospective shame and regret
On any of my friends.
I'll not throw a stone at a sinner,

That I haven't already
Flung at a
Mirror.

Others have tried to please me,
They failed, because, deep down
They were trying to please themselves.

You don't try.
You just do.

Before you, I fed on happiness scraps.
They tasted good
but I was starving,
I gobbled up and pleaded; give me more,
I tried to be deserving.

But you and I...We don't need to give, or take, or bargain,
Ever-friend, always-love,
We are happy just to hold each others hopes, and hearts, and secret dreams.
There are no conditions, no expectations
Our lives are both complex and impossible, simple and limitless.

I will pour myself into you, fill the aching places of need
You will never, ever let me beg, or cringe, or weep, or plead.

There will always be bad days and sad days and blue days
there will always be lonely too little of you days
there will always be dull days with nothing to do
but the best days are always spent dreaming of you.

There will always be love hiding just out of sight
There will always be searching for meaning and light
There will always be moonlight and lone whistle cries
but I'd trade all these wonders for one of your smiles

There will always be longing for far distant lands
There will always be words flowing out through these hands
There will always be friendship both steadfast and true
There will always be me, may there always be you.

Between volumes and syllables.
From a piece of paper
Folded with smitten hands and
Hidden between

Books of lesser interest to a
Young heart in first love,
To the isles and isles of scrolled
Knowledge lost in the blasphemous

Fires of Alexandria, my story
Remains only for as long as I
Do. Punctuations and dreams
That will forever matter less to

Another than their own. My
Story is my doing. My being.
My loves and dislikes.
My failures and successes weigh

Exactly as little as names of
Kings and gods long forgotten,
When printed with other drops
Of the same ink as theirs.

I love my girlfriend's answer
To questions of an afterlife:
*"I hope it all ends when it ends.
I have been given enough.

Give my space to other souls.
All I am; all I have,  
I am comforted to think I only
Borrow."