I heard some things about Don Juan.
I heard he was a handsome muscular guy
who cried a lot when nobody was looking.
I heard he had an imperfect upbringing.
The church infected his mind
during the days and at nights,
he was beaten by his father
while his mother looked on.
I heard all the pretty girls loved him.
They loved him for his money,
they loved him for their grand designs
& they loved him for his ****.
I also heard he was a writer,
a serious loving-poet,
writing endless verses,
trying hard,
to make
sense
of it all.

T'is unfair for those
Who have never felt morose or
Uncomposed
To blame or shame the lives
that have been.
For it was their choice,
Leave them be.
I hope you would not be the same
About me.

For a few choose to leave this earth,
But most of us are dead from birth.
For either way it was their choice,
Leave them be.
I hope you would not be the same
About me.

We should salute those who do it,
For they have gone through with it.
Us here waiting, waiting.
Waiting still, waiting to get ill.
For it was their choice,
Leave them be.
I hope you would not be the same
About me.

If I were to make that choice,
Do not proclaim what I could have been,
Or that you never could have seen
The pain.
'Cause you could, and you did.
For it's anyone's choice,
Leave them be.
I wonder would you be the same
If it were me?

tell the boy to wait up
you've got to sneak in a kiss
before he forgets the color of your eyes
and that once he thought they were pretty

I don’t want to perpetuate the produce – consume loop
but when I don’t, I feel like such a lazy moocher
Could I play guitar near after dark bars for $23 an hour?
Victor and I did that once, for $11.50 each
Untaxed, that’s better than my dour real job
So, if I really made my place at a street corner, I’d be a smart earner

But then I’d be a fixture, like the accordion man and the bums with PVC buckets
The bar goers would soon hate me for chumping them out of their cash
with three gritty “Heart of Gold” covers
Then soon the mediocre bums would jump me and Riot, my guitar
She’ll smash into the walk under a Irish flag in front of Murphy’s Law,
while drinkers whoop and punch the air
The bucket goes over my head
and the accordion bellows squeeze round my neck

Darling, you're confusing. Like a puzzle that can't be solved.
You remind me of a book that hasn't been read. The pages only skimmed, touched by rough fingers, sometimes tearing your fragile pages.
I want to immerse myself in your words. I want to tear them apart, dissect them so I can see what's underneath. I want to be a part of the story you have yet to finish.
Im drawn to you like the morning tide.
I would love to explore the depths of your existence, if only you were to let me. Even just for a quick moment.
I can feel your insecurities, the ones hidden in the depths of your pages. I know them all too well, like they are my own.
Won't you let me break down your walls, explore the world of your subconscious thoughts.
Let me in, please?
I showed you the heart I wear on my sleeve. I gave you the pen, invited you to help finish the novel that hasn't been published.
I want to show you what its like, show you that you aren't alone.
Let me be the one to help knock down the temple walls you cling to so dearly.
If you could only see what I do.
I want to become a part of your world. Immerse myself in the depths of your existence.
Are you ready?
I want to break you down, rip apart the images you have created. I want to see you totally exposed. I'll stand with you, I'll show you my skeleton. Let me be the one that helps paint the walls of your psyche.
Do the same for me.
Tear me down, rip me to shreds. Shine a light in the darkest corners of my being.
We will rebuild ourselves. Refurbish  old images. Bit by bit, using scrapes from our ruble. We can create a world that is for us. Parts of us, mixed together, securing the infrastructure.
Let me be the only light to shine in your temple. Let me mend the pages that were torn by careless fingers.
I want to melt, my colors bleeding into yours. Illuminate our souls with the fire we sparked together.
Do you trust me?
Will you take my hand? Will you allow me to catch you incase you slip? I won't let you trip over the liter left behind by our pasts.
Leap with me, dive into the world we create. We can fall together.
What do you say?
I've given you the key to my pages, the pen to write your words down.
Will you do the same?
Hand me your key, I'll show you what its like. Remind you how it feels when my pen touches the pages of your soul.
Give me your love, your heart, your life.
I'll handle it with care.

I was born wrapped in a black body bag.... They call that foreshadowing...so to lighten my appearance they try to remember me as a white outline.. chalked......upon asphalt.... and say it was this *** fault.... I was only known as an A...4.0 but I never made the cut... as I got my first F....Foolish Acts....Of being born Black... Or Incomplete...As I lay holed in the street...I hate the facts...that I will be a *****...even tho I know better...But my Ipod teaches me to ***** better... to be a NWA....a ***** with Attitude.... Not a NWP....a Negus With Pride... So I walk in stride... influenced like my ancestors... by music...rhythm and beats... See the devil knows what you'll bop to... rock to... So he muffled the sounds of Love and Peace...and Boosted the way of the streets... hoods.. and Lifeless...  So that You would automatically see me as ratchetness... When I could have grew to be the very definition of peace... Now I'm just another problem... and you'll never see me as a victim... only the agitator...because You've listed to the same beats, watched the same feeds and ingested all the fabrications as truths...They have taken it to far making the stereotypes WorldStars  And All I ever did was become what you wanted me to be in the first place....A Pale Lifeless outline of white Dust....That you will inhale without justice... #IamBrown

"I panted and clutched at my tangled up head
Which was deeply etched with a leak
And was Spilling out my dismantled thoughts"

Onto the the grass  

They twisted and wriggled upon the shining blades trying to bite or injure their slimy dark brothers

Like long legged sharp toothed worms that would make one sick to the stomach  

"And when they had gone
all of a sudden I was treated with a damp numb buzzing all over"

And I could not see

"Right then
they could have replaced me with another"
If they had wanted
If they were willing

No one would notice