Try to catch me,
I will get away.

Try to find me,
I will hide.

Try to call me,
I wont answer.

Try to race me,
I will win.

Try to stop me,
I'll keep going.

Try to hit me,
I will block you.

Try to get me,
I will stop you.

As long as you are trying,
I will try harder.

Dear bully,
I did what you wanted me to do
And i did it just for you.
My wrists are bleeding and the life in front of me is hazing.
I have no thought of turning back now and this is not me fazing.
This is you and what you have made me become.
Inside is a contagious, heartless, careless, & selfish soul that just so happens was passed on to me.
You being put away forever is exactly what I want to see.
It's not as hard for me to be here looking down on you in a locked down facility,
because it wasn't hard for you to be looking at me and labeling me in a suicide committee.
Maybe just maybe, if you weren't such a ****
We both would've had something to live for and we both would not be hurt.

You had to be the loudest laugh. You had to get the last word. You liked to make people cry but now one of your victims had to die.
You got everything you wanted and so everything you had. You had to be known, and known is what you got. Making people feel worthless has made your life rot.

Its not a bad life
just a bad day
so get high
because the world
is too low

Poetry is the mere translation
Of thoughts and feelings
Into words.

Therefore, the biggest mistake a poet can make
Is to write words
Rather than thoughts and feelings.

Sweet Beauty
Sweet Kisses
Sweet Hugs
Sweet Love

Perfect Sun
Perfect Day
Perfect Moon
Perfect Night

Two Lovers, Dancing Under The Sun
Two Lovers, Dancing Under The Moon
Eternally

or wait, no
what is it?
is it greed?
is it power?
it's civilization
it takes over; it destroys
Love decays; Beauty delays
all the people do is gaze
into their everyday life

he wrote three poems that night
and all hell broke loose
the children looked through the windows
and fell in love with sin
the men stood on the misty northern platforms
waiting for the trains to take them to the front
and the women wept for hours because they were afraid of change

he wrote three poems that night
he stood high up on the city walls
and fired them at the crowd with his magic Beretta shotgun
to a bunch of innocent by-standers
who would never return to their homes sane
and they laughed and they felt awkward
and they knew it was up to them to sing in tune or disappear forever

he wrote three poems that night
one exploded like a space shuttle in the frozen black sky
the second burned the gates and freed the tigers from their cages
and the third roamed the streets with a wicked smile
- dynamite strapped around the chest
and high on acid like a bulletproof *******

it was the night the dogs were barking his name
and the signs on the walls were painted blood-red
while all the communication systems broke down
and nobody was ready

but clearly
he was