For the first time in a long
I refused to awaken from my sleep.
I stayed withing the realm of dreams.
Walking down a broken street.

The cobblestone was over turned.
The streetlamps were all dark.
All the buildings were abandoned
The greenery overran the parks.

Because I won't open my eyes,
The world began to crumble.
The imaginary people in the town.
Began to turn and run and stumble.

And every time they hit the ground.
They all turned to smoke.
Because of me they were all running.
Like a cruel, unneeded joke.

And even though I was asleep.
The tears spilled from my eyes.
I realized I was their death.
So I rose with the smoke ascending the skies.

And now I sit here wide awake.
Wishing I were not.
Next time when I'm waking up,
I'll give darkness one more shot.

I can't stop writing.
I can't stop feeling sad.
I can't stop being nervous.
I can't stop losing what I had.

I'm depressed and under-loved.
At least that's how I feel.
I can't stop eating my words.
I have them for every meal.

I gorge my self on pity.
I eat all my regrets.
I can't stop shoving it down.
All my problems are like pets.

I groom, I feed, I love them.
But always, in the end.
They hurt me oh so badly.
My heart gets bruised and bent.

My only wish is to stop.
I can't stop ever wishing.
But the only constant in my life.
Is that all the good is always missing.

A tortured soul? I wouldn't say.
I don't like to complain.
But I can't stop complaining.
I like to feel the pain.

Longer then the others.
The list goes on and on.
And I can't stop writing because
Sadness is my song.

I like to laugh, just like you.
It's what makes me happy.
But when I see your inner shrew
It hits me where it hurts.

A comedy is meant for laughter.
Tragedy is for the sad.
But what happens when they switch places?
Do things get better or stay bad?

I read a book that made me laugh.
The ending was one of romance.
I want to cry because it's fact.
To have that ending, I have no chance.

And so laughter cures us all.
But when comedy makes you feel sad,
It's best to try to shrug it off.
Because thinking only makes you mad.

When it's been three years, after a real bad break up.
You think you would be over it, to empty out the hate cup.
You truly do believe that you can just forget it all.
That you can move on and never fall.

But then three years later to your surprise.
There's another man between her thighs.
And despite what you say.
It still hurts in that same way.

So I sit here and write it out.
I will not cry, nor scream, nor shout.
I'll just laugh at it all.
It's my seconds after all.

So lets drink all day and fight all night.
Don't worry it'll be alright.
I got the bandages and cleaning stuff.
You gatta prove that you are tough.

You need to drink until you're blind.
Only then can you find,
That you are just like us in what we do.
Bad decisions through and through.

So lets get together and throw down.
I got a fist you, got a crown.
You have a floor, I have a face.
There is no need to make the space.

A bad decision here and there.
You can make them anywhere.
Weather it's with friend or foe.
Just make a choice and go, go, GO!

I have no bills for *****. My teenage dreams are shattered.
My presence in this thin veil of life depends on if I'm hammered.
But I have no dollars, no coins or even checks.
I can't buy any blue moon, ***** or any becks.

My addiction to acceptance leaves hanging dry.
I need to drink anything, wheat, potato or rye.
The grain doesn't matter, the proof is nothing real.
I'll make it up in quantity, I might even steal.

My friends are all awaiting. My reputation still on hold.
I need some money for my *****, oh wait, no I don't.
I'm not that insecure, and I have not an addiction.
But **** it man, I want to drink, and money is an affliction.

A magazine for an M16.
An ACOG scope to sight the hope.
A 12" barrel to guide death.
The body falls just like *******.

The blood is pouring, engines roaring.
The car is steering, turning, veering.
Down the road of no return.
Around the corner, Dreams are peering.

Escape is done, there is no gun.
Thrown away like yesterday.
Shooting dreams is his profession.
And in the alley, they rot away.

I am evil.
I am cruel.
I am benevolent.
I am you.

I am always weeping.
I am always sad.
I am desperation.
I'm what makes you bad.

I am pure corruption.
I consort with the ******.
I am so confused.
As to who I am.

I wrote some words with lots of meaning.
I wrote them strong and proud and bold.
I threw them all down, pen to paper.
I wrote them down to be told.

But it didn't happen. It lost all meaning.
When I wrote a bit too much.
So I scrapped it, threw it out.
I don't like that. Please don't touch.

I will fix it, mend it, make it.
Better then it was before.
Then I'll say that I don't like it.
I'll close the windows and the doors.

Opportunity met it's match.
When I passed them up and down.
Here I sit with paper with me.
But I don't like that any more

Rant, rant, complain, complain. My words fall out like summers rain. Adore, adore, give me more. The heart on my sleeve is an open door.
Begin, begin, end and end. No one will feel my true love again.
Weep, weep, sweep and sweep. My ***** secrets are mine to keep.
Feel, feel, becoming motionless. I'll never be able to read your lips.
Focus, focus, lose my grasp. The life of a ***** is one hard task.
Live, live, die then die. The more I feel, the more I cry.
Sing, sing, silence, silence. When you fall in love, I fall to violence.

Remember when we first met?
It was the best day of our lives.
Remember when we first kissed?
It sent shivers down my spine.
Remember when we first had ***?
It reminded me that you're my life.
Remember when I forgot?
It got rid of all my strife.

Remember when you yelled at me?
It hurt my ears to hear you scream.
Remember when I dropped my coffe?
It stained your carpet with sugar and cream.
Remember when you met my friends?
You told me you didn't like any of them.
Remember when I forgot?
It showed me that you were no gem.

But do you remember the good times?
Where we laughed and sang our songs?
The times that we would hug it out?
No matter if it took too long?
Remember when we worked together?
And I was always late?
I bet you don't remember this.
Didn't I say forgetting is great?

I was with you from the start and stuck until the end.
I clung onto your back through all the curves and bends.
I wrote you songs and cried you oceans.
Just so you can swim and sing.

I carried all your burdens and tended all your needs.
I carted away sadness and watered all your seeds.
I even made sure that your house was always clean.
Yet you always say that I had broken in.

3 years ago we fell in love and started our own lives.
3 years ago we stopped thinking and started mixing strifes.
Present day I have learned better to give my heart away.
And now my mistake has made me all alone again.

I wake up in a haze. The blood is rushing from my head...
I look around me, shattered rock. I'm pretty sure I should be dead.
I don't question, only accept. At least I try my best.
I see the bodies of the broken, seems I did better then the rest.

I march on into this land, purple skies and orange grass.
The water's blue just like our own, but releases deadly gas.
I start to remember how I got here, the trip was very long.
I remember that old rabbit hole, and as I fell I sang this song...

"Save me, save me. Levitate me. Don't let me hit the solid ground.
For all I know I could be long gone, my body hits but not a sound."

It was a song taught by my mother, thought it's very ill in taste.
I sang it for it brought thoughts of her. Yet still I feel life was a waste.
I remember all the good times and remember all the bad.
But this place makes me feel that bad times are all I ever had.

I can still keep my head clear of the evil thoughts and sounds.
Finally, my visions clear, I've come upon a castle ground.
But as I write this in my cell, I don't think it was a good thing.
That this whole time I've tried my best, but I still want to sing.

I sang so loud it woke the guards, and they cuffed me right on site.
Roughed me up a bit too much, and threw me down with all their might.
I'm in a land called "Run-A-Way". I knew it would be bad.
With purple skies and orange clouds, and water leaking gas....

(PARODY, SATIRE & TRIBUTE)

I used to be upset
I used to be sad
But now I just feel dried up and sad

I used to be depressed
Once I almost died
And one time I used to always cry.

But now I'm kind of happy
And I'm even married.
Though it's to my cousin, our kids a bit too hairy.

I even stopped my drinking
But I keep on writing
Sanity and creation rage on in my mind fighting.

So please do not be sad
And don't turn into me
'*** I'd rather die from mystery then tears that drowned me in their sea.

I'm sitting in my bed.
My phone begins to ring.
Who could be calling me
On this little thing?

I look at the screen
A text message for thee!
Oh boy, I had thought.
Who could it be?

I click open up!
I read it away.
It was an add.
For some stupid game.

I put the phone down
All ready to sleep
When all of a sudden
I heard a loud beep!

I looked at my phone
And saw one more text
And then another
How many were next!?

I started to cringe
And then I got mad
Why are text messages
So freaking bad??

I hoped it was finished
I hope it was over.
Is this texting?
Or is this torture?

I want to go to the park.
Can I PLEASE!?
I want to take a walk.
Can I PLEASE!?
I want to take a nap.
Can I PLEASE!?
I want to ask if I can.
Can I PLEASE!?

Of all the things we could have done.
Without the permission of one.
Of all the things that could succeed.
Why would you have to ask me?
Go on and think for your self.
Or put you're freedom on the shelf.
Because the more you ask me
I'll say no to "Can I PLEASE!?"

They shuffle their feet
They trip and they moan
They have soulless eyes
They bite and they groan.

Their all wearing suits
Their hair's falling out
Their teeth are decayed
Their guts strewn about.

Well thats what I saw
When I went to the bank
But I guess that I have
Mondays to thank.

The story before the story begins.A message to those who don't believe.An origin of the ancient winds.A warning, asking you to leave.A prologue can be many things.The start of a song, or recap of the play.A prologue to the song's they sing.A prologue for the night and day.A prologue always starts.An epilogue will end.But what really fills my heart.Are the messages they send.

I slight little sneeze, a measly cough.Oh my I believe this is a cold.But I know that my immune system's tough.I know that my white blood cells will hold.And so I ride it out, living my life.Running through blizzards without any clothes.Although the running caused me much strife,I have only this cold to show.And so here I sit in my bed full of sweat.My fever breaking here and there.My sheets and blankets all sopping wet.But I'm way to sick to care.

Five syllables strongWriting haiku is an artMath and Words combine

I heard that you're totally.
Yah it's true, yah thats right.
I heard the news, I have the scoop.
I bet your pretty tight.

Although, thats a "ghetto" term
So I don't like it very much,
Only proper english
When you're totally what!?

So when you find out what it is
That you totally are
I'll be sure to stay near by,
And make sure you're not too far.

Because I know that you're totally.
I know that it is true.
That you are totally not me,
But you are totally you.

Do I call or do I wait?
A conflict I must face.
Is it too early or too late?
I don't want to chase.

A rotary or a cell?
I don't care about the style.
Do I lie or do I tell?
It's been secret for a while.

But have I had a chance to say?
I don't think I ever did.
Did you get those roses?
Because I'm the secret kid.

Putting up my trust.
I put it in your hands.
I left the girl I love.
To explore forgotten lands.

But you dropped my trust.
You dug your boot into it.
You want the girl I left.
You sent me into a fit.

So ******* hard.
You backstabbing *****.
You want her? Fine.
But you still make me sick.