Inspiration
Comes and goes.
The feeling
Never permanently resides.

Optimism
Is not an acquired skill.
The feeling
Is a state of mind.

Love
Is hard to come by.
The feeling
Is hard to keep.

Hate
Is easy to come by.
The feeling
Can take over.

But

True love
Is the ultimate gift.
The feeling
Will last and will make whole.

But

True love
Doesn't exist
With free will.

God ****** up.

I smile this smile made of tears.
My eyes sparkle, full of my visible fears.
This grin is carved from ear to ear.
Because of this life I feel like so sheer.
Like a sweater dried too long, worn thin.
What have i ******* gotten myself in?
I sign myself up before it begins.
Turns out I wasn't ready, and I'm stuck till it ends.
Why do I always make wrong decisions?
I feel like a fool, jesting for provisions.
You dangle my mistakes in front of my face.
Thinking you shame me, I feel the disgrace.
But now my life is just a race,
To the finish line, so I can finally face
The light at the end of the tunnel is weak.
Finally, the end, I can finally sleep...

My mind is lost within myself.
I scream so loud for some to help.
But all that's audible is a small yelp.
I'm trapped within a sliver of hell.
Regardless of luck I'll never tell.
Why is my potential always to fail.
My smile leaves my soul in a shell.
So no one can see how much I have fell.
Into my own darkness, sadness, and spell.
I wish I had somewhere to live and dwell.
But I'm always out of place, out of element, and out of "ell"'s.

You see a smile i bleed to bare.
But not once have you ever really cared.
Don't pretend you believe that I am satisfied.
You and i both know that I'm destined to die.
We lived this so called "life" to the fullest
But really, I just danced around as I dodged fate's bullets.
All the laughs were fake, my heart was always broken.
No one can fix it, not even a prince with a love token.
I have accepted my fate, with humble silence.
I just wished I had more to be proud of, like awaiting Zion.
But I wasted all my money, time and energy.
And what do I have to show for it? Just a lot of pictures of me smoking ****.
My doubts lurk as shadows in corners.
His name is Steve, and his minions are my mourners.
I'm crazy. I know this. Yet no one can see.
I would give it all now, to have just planted that tree.

I sit in a worried sand
I remain ever sinking deeper within my mind, in a relentlessly ceasing less void of gaping curiosity dominating my predominate view and clouding my vision with irrelevant focus toward foolish, feeble, fanatical finds that feverishly ****** my full fancy. I carelessly cast aside the light that should yield me smiles and giggles. With joy and of true happiness. But those hopes have evaded me and are consistently escaping my grasp due to my own self preservations. In conclusion, I'm the block to my own happiness. I am the key to my future. I just need to find the door to open it...