Carefully I lay me down,
in a world so hectic,
and yet it matters.
It matters we were all placed gently.
In a world so hectic.
Born to breathe,
an air of fresh chemicals,
in a world so hectic.
I can't say why,
since I'm no god,
but in this world it matters.
In this world so hectic,
it matters
that we have lips and eyes.
It matters
that there is little hair on our heads that give life to buggies if we don't keep it clean.
It matters
that we have money in our pockets,
and shoes on our feet.
It matters,
and that isn't always the softest inside.
There may be holes in those pockets;
holes in those shoes,
but it matters.
Those holes are representing something new.
Something fresh.
Something before and not so bad, because
before humans touched this world did earth seem so sad?
Was earth dripping color?
Were raindrops filled with gas?
What about those cans you see,
scattered in the bay?
Do you think the world would still be sad,
if all it went away?
Not to say, we are to blame.
In fact, that's not my point.
I'm saying we are carefully placed in this loving,
small,
and hopeful place,
yet this hectic,
crazy,
brain-numbing place,
so carefully,
we can't misplace that this
this matters,
in some kind of way.
It must matter we were placed
in the world, though we wrecked it.
It matters we were placed
in a world so hectic

The stars do not just whisper,
they cry and yell and beg.
"Someone,
someone,
we are ill,
from this horror show we cannot unsee."
The land was filled with gas,
the stars,
too high to cleanse.
The stars are begging,
"Someone,
someone,
put this horror to an end."

Though on the other side.
The one that plugs their ears,
clipped noses,
zipped mouths,
and the society alive,
we say nothing to the stars,
instead we simply watch them cry.

I know we let you drop the shine,
and dazzles of tears
to our revolt and vandalized land.
I'm sorry we cannot let go,
and give you all demand,
but society has this image,
and it may not go away.

I'm sorry crying, yelling stars,
but no.
Not today.

'Sometimes things just don't make sense and ignoring things won't make you dense, but some people can't say no, so if someday our minds do blow, from curiosity and such, we will no longer keep in our clutch, reality and questions thought, and hopefully we needn't sought the answers, non-factual, we've been taught.'

Answers are for dancers:
Never step left,
always step right.
Right on the course,
where loyalist fight.
Right in the angelic pose that they do.
In fact,
it'd be better if you weren't you.
Just act like they act and you can get by,
do as they do and never ask why.
Answers I give you my dancers,
my prancers,
answers I give you to move the right way.
Answers I give you my dancers,
my prancers,
because with my answers you never will stray.
But if you do,
I assure you,
you've clipped the strings,
and do know that it means
you will shunned,
an existence unseen,
by the people who dance,
the people who sing,
by all the people pulled by my string.

Hey, say, do you like to play?
I loved to play, until that day.
The sky was dim, and there stood him.
The man who'd skim across my skin.
I falter of this 'hope' raft, "bye bye" I say, while away it draft.
I hold this shaft. my finding? I so daft.
I tremble thee, I, fallen angel, falling from heaven is painful.
My sanity is stable. My sanity is stable. My sanity is stable, would be quite the fable.
"That's just life" they say, but that makes me question why we stay.
"Mayday!" I note, "mayday!" My self-pity finally has gone and lead me astray.
I've become the cat-dog rain, screaming "save me," grain by grain.
I shall continue to abstain, until I prove, I'm now insane.

Small child,
Small world,
Small candle light.
Her face half lit but oh how bright.
All it came from a candle light.
Her birth a joy for all to see.
But, one day she'll forget me.
Big world,
Big dreams,
Big opportunities.
So far yet close, just over the seas.
While she fades too fast for the eye to see,
I just stare at old memories.
But across the ocean is where she'll be.
Average home,
Average life,
Average news to hear,
So black and white,
And so I fear,
The day she will leave is coming near.
It is sadly far too clear.
Present me,
Present her,
Present strawberry cake.
I had to learn to bake the cake.
It wasn't really too hard to make.
But if only for my sake,
I wish she'd wish away my ache.

I have a fairy by my side
Which says I must not sleep,
When once in pain I loudly cried
It said "You must not weep"
If, full of mirth, I smile and grin,
It says "You must not laugh"
When once I wished to drink some gin
It said "You must not quaff".

When once a meal I wished to taste
It said "You must not bite"
When to the wars I went in haste
It said "You must not fight".

"What may I do?" at length I cried,
Tired of the painful task.
The fairy quietly replied,
And said "You must not ask".

Moral: "You mustn't."

I can sing,
I can dance,
prance around,
without pants.

Can you sing?
Can you dance?
Prance around,
without pants?

I remember as a child-
peeking over the window,
to a ticking sound,
from a pitch black cloak,
hiding a creature on the ground.
A shadow of a haunting sparrow,
with a knife atop a pole.
I simply stared and giggled,
as I felt the lifeless soul.
Unsure of what to think,
I believe I heard a voice.
Said it, "I weaved a basket."
Then left he, a silent noise.
Baffled!
The atmosphere was like scent so taint.
"The basket soon has become a case."
The words were wispy and growing faint,
like the words were sent away.
I was hesitant to follow it,
and I don't recall why I didn't.
I found myself the sturdy floor,
and my friend,
'the cloaked one' was now no more.

I'm gonna hold back tears,
every freakin' day for you.
I'm put up this always-an-optimist act,
every freakin' time you say to.
I'm gonna laugh,
and never again cry.
Because you say it makes you tired...

I'm gonna hold in my scream,
and smile, never frown.
I'm gonna say I'm a-okay,
while you cut me down,
such a wee-tree.
I don't deserve sarcastic mimicry.

But you don't even need me..
You don't even see me..
So why do I have to..
waste all my freakin' control on you?

If I so much as complain,
about you,
about life,
you stab me with a freaking knife.

What happened?
You were my role-model,
my brother,
my best friend,
my life.

"I know."
Is all I am able to say to you anymore,
because if I strike so slightly,
the rain will pour.

You'll think you have me in the palm of your hand and like snow I leave only water, but don't soak yourself over cold things and empty-looking glasses, because that is what will keep you going and make you strong. Don't ignore it's existence because it has no bright colors or fear when the warmth hits your hands that touched something so frozen, and so heartless that warmth burns, because eventually the burning will go away and the warmth will flow throughout. You aren't glass and going from cold to hot won't shatter you, just hold yourself together. In the end I know my words are shunned, and shammed, but I still say 'get well soon'.

Actually,
I'm not too bad.
Actually,
I'm pretty great.
Actually,
I'd hate myself.
Actually,
What could you really hate?
Actually,
I wouldn't be anything if I were missing anything.
Actually,
I wouldn't be anyone if I were missing anyone.
Actually,
I'm good.
Actually,
I'm great.
Actually,
I'm not that bad,
Actually,
I'm no saint.
Actually,
I can be me.
Actually,
I can and am
Actually,
I'd never want to be the same.
Because...
Being a robot would be such a shame.

I'm the host of a ghost and the most that I know is I feel it burrowing deep in my soul. Like a monster it stares at me, yet cares for me too. Watching me patiently sink in the blue. Waves come down crashing like a party around, and even with you here sometimes there's no sound. It's shameful and lousy and frankly it's sick, that even with a love like this I get lost so quick. It's silly, offensive, and sometimes just cruel that I keep crying like we're in some duel. You'll forgive and forget but the feelings will linger, "is she manipulating me?" with my cunning bee stinger. And I'm shouting like the wicked witch "Oh, I'm melting, I'm melting" and I'm tearing like a crooked ***** while I'm belting and belting, "I'm melting, I'm melting," and swearing I'm caring but can I really care if everytime you need me I'm never really there? Frankly it's not fair! It's not fair that my tone falls flatter and low, and my body starts to move so heavy and slow, or my eyes shut tight and my head starts to hurt or my heart starts to panic and my **** eyes just burst. It's not fair that I can't listen without hearing my mind. Take one step forward, stepping five more behind. It's not fair that I don't think of you each second of the day because while I'm busy hating me, you're hoping I'm okay. You're doing everything you can like a single mom of five, and you don't even know you are the reason I'm alive. You make me smile in a way I've never seen myself before, and when you hold my body I just feel my whole world soar. I could spend forever with you, but I worry anyways- because I cannot promise you I won't ruin our nice days. I can't guarantee I won't just fall upon the tile in a bitter act of drama and just stay there for a while. I can't swear to you I'll rise and clean the whole house while you're gone rather than stay in bed asleep because my mind just is all wrong. You can't just trust that I won't lie or stretch the pain to keep the peace, and I would never ask you to just ignore that whole beast. If you love me, that's a joy I'll constantly question myself each day, because I'm still battling my health and I worry if you'll stay. And if you'll stay with me, you should know you make me whole. You watch the ghost beside me, while you protect my soul.

Searching recklessly for reason.
Gasping carelessly for air.
Wondering if maybe someone knows you exist.
Curious if someone truly cares.
Cares more about you, than the pride to say they once were there.
Contemplating if they might stay.
Like the poker face you always wear.
The world spins, and specks fly off.
That's what humans seem to be.
Time takes only seconds, to make you want to leave.
So give yourself a moment here.
You might find what it is you lost.
If indeed it's broken,
try to recollect the happiness you tossed.

I hopped in daddy's car today
We drove to an old looking house
Daddy said make sure and be careful
I said okay, because it may have ghost.

He brought his special brush for bones
I walked with creaks and squeaks
This was an adventure for Susie-ann!
I'd been waiting for this for weeks.

I was a knight sent to **** a dragon.
I was a pirate in search for treasure chest
"I am a girl with big imagination,"
Says my daddy with his searching vest.

I walk up the entry way
The tree scratched the door
This would be my great adventure
My feet were far from sore.

I didn't give up just that easy
A adventurer never quits
My job was not over yet
I couldn't have any submits

I flicked my flashlight at the wall
The ghost could not be seen
I was getting bored now
Embarrassed by the scene.

I was a child looking for ghost
Ghost, this house did not hold
I don't know why I was looking for ghost
When I should really be looking for gold.

Under the water.
At the bottom of the shore, it lies.
It faces the ocean roof, and peeks out to the sun, that peeks out to it.
It breathes and stares on into the glass top.
Everything is slow.
Everything is cold.
This is where it always was.
This is where it always is.
The water overflowed the hole hidden in the stomach.
There is peace for once.
It could cry of joy, but no one would know.
That is why it ran.
That is why it left.
To take a breathe into the unknown.
To be where others disapproved.
It's the disapproval that drives the car.
And the car falls.
And the car drags a figure to the ocean bed.
And the figure lies on the bed.
And instead of sleeping it stares at the ceiling, as it always has.

Don't give your words to the blind deaf spirits.
With eyes they simply don't use.
They couldn't care for your naggy rantings.
They ignore you; call you Katy Kaboom.
Hardly worth the look,
they are crust beneath trashcans.
Walking off while you breathe.
I find it hard to look at people, who refuse to listen to me.
Don't treat it kind to by waved away,
cast as the alien kind.
Don't waste a spit on carcass ungraced with noblesse oblige of a man.
'Man-kind' should be a revelation,
but dumb is the man with abused to his senses.
Only fairy tales may glue dumb and kind as one.
I've seen that only wise men may not be criticized.
For only kind men, wise men, will treat a woman wise.

Pitter-patter.
On the window.
Pitter-patter.
On the sill.
Pitter-patter.
Does the child.
Pitter-patter
from your mouth.
You say you don't,
I know you do.
You say you won't,
I know you will.
You pitter-pat all the time until-
until you pitter-pat your way,
to driving out insanity.
Pitter-pat.
Pitter-pat.
Tisk-tisk-tisk.
Tat-tat-tat.
Yo­u pitter-patted through the house.
You pitter-pat like a measly mouse.
You say you don't,
I know you do.
You say you won't,
I know you will.
Pitter-pitter.
Pat-pat-pat.
The rain against the window resembles,
the sound after a pitter-pat.
You clasp your lips,
say you'll make no sound,
but you pitter-pat
all the time;
all around.
You say you don't,
I know you do.
You say you won't,
I know you will.
You pitter-pattering,
chitter-chattering,
skitter-scattering,
little rat-like
mouse.

I broke like a ship to rocks,
but I always thought I was the perfect Goldie Locks.
Alas the red did stain my hands.
Alas I had to say goodbye to all my friends.
Alas all torture me,
still,
though now through veins.
But it doesn't matter now,
no one remains :)

Tender means easily broken.
broken like a teapot,
shattered like glass.
Transparent means too clear.
clear as day,
crystal as mine.
Trickery means masked to fool.
Fool who fell,
****** who dare.
Trapped means suffocated.
suffocated by drama,
chocked by insecurities.
Hurt means cruel pain.
cruel pain in the chest,
burned out in the heart.
And though I wish I were less blunt. My heart is hurt, my lungs have stopped. My brain is goo, because of you. but you play it off well, so do as you do. I try to be calm and forget it, you know, but this bitter feeling continues to flow. It hurts worst than shows can make it seem, but the show must go on for every scene. So no scars, no death, no drama I swear. And I'll be like I always was. I'll always be there. It's not your fault and will never be. If only...no never mind. Well....if only she was me.

You assume the quiet child has a secret to keep.
She has done something cruel.
They aren't ever as innocent as they seem.
You assume she has a ticking bomb inside.
She must have never cried.
Never loved,
or fallen.
Never scarred,
or been ****** upon by the assumptions, that you assume, that you figure, no one else has assumed.-  ...You assuming devil...


                                              So oblivious
                                             so it's obvious
you do not know.
All you can do is assume
her pain is staged.
Assume her horrors' fraud.
Assume that nerd thinks like a nerd.
Assume she only has flaws.
Assume she's earned what she has got.
Assume she is the cover of the book,
assuming the book should soak in a river.
Assume she just gives, cause' she's a giver.
                      Giving away,
                         and fading out.
                              Full of pity,
                                    and self-doubt.

                                                   So oblivious
                                                  so it's obvious.
you do not know.
All you can do is assume.

sleep,
slember,
til' tommarow,
in the forest of ember.
creep,
walk,
through the night,
the cave too dark and cold.
Munch,
eat,
much food left,
where lion get your prey.
Tommarow there is much to do,
so awaits another day

Like a web,
tangling up one string under,
over, and knot.
No way to more simply,
explain train of thought.

When my butterflies fly,
I wonder why,
my heart starts to sing,
like birds in mid-spring.

I don't have lips,
I don't like lips.
They lie,
they deceive,
they hurt,
they breathe.
The air is foul.
Like fresh,
clean,
suds,
turned to dirt,
and washed mud.
The words are harsh.
Killing me softly,
the doves cry.
The radio jumps.
The words screamed.
Held inside?
All I know is lips taste bad,
after hurting my stomach,
they release what I had.
They let out what I hold,
letting go off it all.
I don't like lips.
I don't have lips.
And I more than don't mind.

If I remember every moment,
then I die every day.

Shrug it off so you don't cry.
Inside, you hope soon you might die.
The window calls and you come near,
but though death seems probable, it's "the hell" you fear.
So you give a cold shoulder to tears and pain.
You numb your feelings and your shirt's blood stain.
You pretend to not notice and say,"whatever."
But inside you're hoping death is closer.
You try to stay calm and make life simple,
yet every one thinks you must be gimple.
You stay out of trouble just to make through the day,
so to maintain your image you can never be allowed to play.
Sometimes you laugh the pain away,
but no one can see your smile decay.

A book of my thoughts,
careful gestures,
and randomized scribbles.
An assortment of "I don't know"s
and question marks.
Rhetorically, why do I write in this?
Why do I mention this book which keeps me still?
Why ever would 'why' be my ever waking thrill?
Why not try, writing a book dedicated to 'why'?
You'll be amazed at what you don't know.
Why is..
Why me..
Why you..
Why do..
Lovely friends,
I see you now,
because I've asked why and how
and how
could I not see,
until I asked why you were wanting me to be free,
leaving me be?
Lovely friends,
I've opened mind,
opened hands.
Why not write 'why'?
The questions do not torment,
they simply fly away,
replaced with clarity:
you didn't know. I didn't know. We don't always know.
Why are we so wrong?
Why are we so right?
Why do we hate day?
Why do we love night?
Why were we so weak?
Why were we so strong?
Why not move along?
Why is a book binding you to life,
bind you to hope,
helping people strive?
Why, a book like mine is one with a streaming hook.
Why do I love my why book?

Lamoon smiles like the sun.
Call me home,
before dinner lamoon.
Sweet lamoon making no sense,
silly lamoon says she can't dance.
Lamoon my hands get cold,
and so do yours.
Lamoon, glimmer on my dear.
Lovely lamoon,
white as a flower.
Scent like a ballroom.
Always has the answer, lamoon.
Lamoon
with grace to skip along stars.
Shoes in hand,
and the trickles of hope falling on us.
Lamoon
shine bright on.
Lamoon,
you're your own song.
A hymn.
A cord.
La
Lamoon,
gleam netted eyes,
and rose hugged lips.
La
Lamoon
free and close.
La
Lamoon,
making me feel like I've seen a ghost.
Taking breath and stealing hearts.
La
Lamoon
enchanting echos chant,
"La,
Lamoon!"
I see her in the horizon,
watering the road.
She plants me in the ground and tells me to grow.
Pouring her nectar over me,
and running the street so free.
La
Lamoon
singing a wonder so happy.

Once I read a book
about a little lady whom
was overwhelmed by powers,
and was falling into doom.
She scared away her loved ones,
and was driven to a corner.
She thought to change herself,
to bring family and friends back for her.
However she was halted,
by the fearful and the fray.
They came back trying to be brave,
saying "No, please wait, it's okay",
never should a monkey beg
to ever be a moose,
I've never seen a rabbit stare
pleading to be a goose.
Her eyes were wide with tears that flood,
she didn't have a clue.
She could become safe to them,
but they plead she love present her,
over and ideal image of anything new.

You keep looking for yourself,
because you want so badly to see the 'real' you
so you look at quotes,
you experiment with lifestyles,
you question what you could be,
you look in a mirror but feel lied to,
then you hit a certain age and feel struck,
it's all between laughable and sad,
you notice the person behind every line of lipstain,
every cloak of cashmere,
and every bud on a cig,
you had this little speck of originality that no one understands.
Through all the time you spent trying to find yourself,
you were you,
it was just so hard to comprehend.

I want to be new,
the refreshing deep breath,
that welcomes you through the doors,
to a world unknown.
I want to be to the start of the evolution,
I want to be the speck in space,
that brings a new race.

I want to be the reason,
and I want to be the cause.
I want to be free,
and find all that's been lost.

I dream to be the dream.
I cling to bringing the "ahh."
I dance and jump to reveal
               the unexpected thrill.

If you could sit silently for just a second and weep.
Would that add value to the one you already keep?
We give so much and get so little.
You can't have more, and can't be in the middle?
For you try to be sad, but it shows in your eyes.
And you realize yourself, it's all just an ugly disguise.
There is beauty in breakdown, not sadness nor shame.
But you give a gilst tear, for all that is fame.
Does it **** you inside to see what you've become?
A monster to be love, yet there you've lost all your freedom.
Shall I quote you a sap melody?
Shall I just lie like you and then agree?
No, I shan't for I have some kind of mind.
Your caked make-up was all intertwined.
Now I know, you abused me so.
You told me how your life did go.
However, you slipped some strands out.
Now I spent time thinking, with nothing to worry about.
I am baffled into laughter.
Your life was happily ever after.
Well, I am more profound.
That's why I lift you from this ground.
I tell you "be on your way."
And chuckle, "have a nice day."

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
And the dreams that you dream of
Once in a lullaby
Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
And the dreams that you dream of
Dreams really do come true
Someday, I'll wish upon a star
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney top
That's where you'll find me
Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
And the dreams that you dare to-
Oh why, oh why can't I?
Well, I see trees of green and red roses too
I'll watch them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Well, I see skies of blue and I see clouds of white
And the brightness of day
I like the dark
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
And also on the faces of people passing by
I see friends shaking hands saying
How do you do?
They're really saying I, I love you
I hear babies cry and I watch them grow
They'll learn much more then we'll know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
World
Someday I wish upon a star
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney top
That's where you'll find me
Oh, somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
And the dreams that you dare to-
Why oh, why can't I?

I cannot lie.
I cannot lie.
I met the eye of poogley-pie
In my dreams.
I thought I'd die.
Oh how could I-
Oh how could I-
Have met the eye of poogley-pie.
It stared at me,
It glared at me,
It looked me up and down.
I nervously thought it followed me when I went into town.
They say the eye of poogley-pie does not take prisoners yet-!
I haven't fainted,
nor hit my head,
so how much more living can I get?
I cannot lie.
I cannot lie.
The eye- I saw it blink.
It was a man with a soft nice hand,
he sent me flowers...I think.
This poogley-pie,
is a sweet, kind guy.
It's hard to believe those who meet him soon die.

I didn't ask questions. I didn't have the right words, or the exact thought I needed. I said, "Teach me something that I don't know!" I was excited to know everything and in response I was asked, "What do you want to know?" But...I didn't know. That's why I wanted to...so as I grew I was shunned for the constant hand raising and observatory gazing. I wanted to know, but knowing was wrong. If I wanted to know, I had to understand. That's what I was trying to do, but the other kids said to know something was bad. I didn't want to be bad. So I didn't know and that's why I didn't ask.  So how could I ever have known not to listen to people like them?
   As I grew I was shunned for not knowing. I didn't know the simple things, but I looked so smart and shy. They caved in over asking for answers, while my mind was up in the sky. My friends were too busy with AP and Honors to the point they could barely stop to say hi. I asked for help and I got some, but I got shocked eyes, and confused teachers wondering why.
  "Yeah" I thought "their right" it's simple stuff, If they could then I could with will on my side, but I was younger, and I didn't know. I floated away and came back by the end, with one year to spare, I can't revive myself again. I have a 2.2 on 4.0 scale, and I wanted to go a good university. If only I knew, then I'd be going to places like Yale.

A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay.
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting--
Waiting to sail your worries away.
It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain
And your boat waits down by the key.
The winds of night so softly are sighing--
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea.
So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain.
Wave good-bye to cares of the day.
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain
Sail far away from lullaby bay.

I let it take control,
the thoughts of him,
it was painful,
once the pain was gone,
I still didn't want to let go,
no,
not of my best memory.
Now someone new has interrupted my thoughts.
"Someone,"
I cry to the sky with tears filling my eyes.
"Someone,
please tell me what to do."
No one told me.
So I rejected everything.
Love?
Pity?
I'd out-grown those thoughts.
But....
What about memories?
I haden't
I couldn't out-grow the pain.
The first was the worst,
that's why I regreted the second the most.
First I thought nothing of it.
I told him sorry,
I  said goodbye.
Soon after the deed was done....
I cried.
It was hard to believe it.
I was really regeting it.
I really loved him.
In the end my memories came back.
My memories of my first love.
I hate you.
You ruined my life.
My
worst mistake....
was my best memory.

Screaming in horrid, agonizing pain.              |
I start to wonder if I've gone insane.                 |
Can someone tell me how to wreck this train. |            
I need to stop turning good people to grain.    |            
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Telling myself I've got a problem.
Too much pride to ask the doc.
Calling from my man-made cage,
while steadily, clicking the lock.

I need a release,
the hot air just grows,
if I don't blow up,
I may start to float.

Maybe it's heartburn,
maybe the headache will go,
but inside I tell myself,
"you're faking, you know."

A shudder down my back,
I'm holding in a scream,
but I don't need to turn around,
to know I'm afraid of nothing.

I can tell you more and more,
than you thought I'd ever know,
but when it comes to  happy endings,
I cling to let everything go.

Different people sitting in the same seats.
Seats scattered all over the earth.
Earth covered in questions.
Questions filling up my cup.
Cup pouring over, emptying, and overflowing.
Over-flowing life,
made by the simple mind.
Mind is mine.
I made it all my own.
I watch people walk by,
never knowing where they go.
And that's okay.
That's just fine,
cause if I think for myself,
my mind is all mine.

I don't know what it is I adore about the floor and it's galore.
The sight is one craved,
to be only saved.
Every spot and crack rendered homely warm.
Still,
I puzzle if it's the warmth of below or the fear of above that keeps my eyes so fixed.
Perhaps it's the life lead,
and all that I've seen,
hence my reason is both mixed.

I like chocolate
So creamy and filled
your wildest dreams,
all in one bite.
I like chocolate
the chocolate I love
sweet and unhealthy,
thats right
Yet chocolate is
curious, and
different.
The emotions inside are not always machines.
The feelings you give and take
think about it,
aren't these kind of...mystic.
They hold memories or futures, thoughts, and dreams.
Dreams of futures and thoughts of memories.
Sure there is outside taste but,
don't you taste it?
The feelings, hopes, thoughts and dreams
only by a nibble on it's seams?
Well if you don't it can't be helped.
Savoring taste can't always be developed.
However,
I still want to let you know
chocolate is just as good as cookie dough