I was asked
         
                 why don't you
                   write something
                                 positive?
postive,
positive?

maybe it's like
school,
it's hard to weave
interests into subjects
coincident not
of delight

a page is an unworn
white t-shirt
that i seem to stain
unrecognizable
when my pen
wipes it's fingers

and theres nothing
more to clean my
hands with

so i guess
why i don't write
positives a majority
of the time
is because when it rains
the ground doesn't
just decide to stay dry.

The time of my life
It's the only thing I own
That is out of my control

The swing from the pendulum of life
Tells me how my events go by
Tick
I'm born
Tock
I die

But what is this for?
A God with a plan
Or rather nothing more
Than that of a universe
set forth to go on forever more

Yes, the time I have is a gift to me
For it is mine alone to keep
And my time is always free

This gift I have of Time
It help's me find the truth
I use it almost nonstop
So it led me to you

Pretty little people
With pretty little plans
And pretty little laughs
Behind pretty little hands

Ugly old *****
Laughing at what they said
Smiling so happily
Wishing them all dead

Pretty little people
With pretty little secrets
They confide in the ugly old *****
So sure that she'll keep it

Ugly old *****
Hateful and jealous
She wants let it go
But she's too lonely to tell it

Pretty little people
With their ******* pretty smiles
Pretty little people
Laughing all the while

Pretty little people
With endless self-esteem
Pretty little people
With pretty little dreams

Ugly old *****
Trying to be real
Ugly old *****
Don't know what to feel

Ugly old *****
Snapping at the seams
Ugly old *****
And yes, that ***** is me

You said I was pretty -- in a not so average kind of way.
You said I shined-- but not as bright as the sun.

You said a lot of things I can't quite get out of my head.
You meant a lot of things... I can't quite pin which one meant the most.

But you are like coffee- bitter and somewhat sweet when I add a little sugar.
You are you... And I'm still learning to accept this.

Heaven and Hell,
I taste when i'm with you.

Heart as cold as ice,
yet warm like the grassy fields of the spring meadows.

You were the hurricane, chaotic and unforgiving.
But with every storm, lies a rainbow radiating every inch of beauty within.

Your mind beautifully balanced,
a mysterious blend of dark and cheery.

Your existence, like the gleaming rays of the sunrise.
Bringing new hope after a dark and cold night.

You are the bitter sweet of life.