Dark is the night, by the light of day

Harsh are the words, which some people say

Grievous the malaise, which we often feel

Deep are the wounds, of a hurt that won’t heal

Lasting the wrong, to whom it is done

Fleeting the moment, when praises are won

Tragic the loss, of someone we love

Empty the feeling, when they are thought of
WIZDUMBs BY JA 619

Misplaced feelings of lust and aggression.
A fresh new take on an old depression.
Watch as we make mistakes on purpose.
Hear us proclaim our own lives as worthless.

Misjudged values and dusty pedestals stacked chest-high with the best nonfacts - cracked down the middle.

None of this was ever about you;
just a made-up answer to an unknown riddle.

I couldn't speak
Say something!
Tell them what's wrong!

I couldn't move
Pick your feet up!
Don't make them carry you!

My body was trembling
It hurts!
Stop hurting!

In and out I went
Where am I?
Who is touching me?

I was paralyzed
although there was nothing wrong

My mind had become a jail

Life was turning me into a prisoner

And my body had given up

Nothing seems right
It's not supposed to make sense
But somehow it all fits together
The hurt the agony
But yet all that love and smiles--
Spinning, spinning
Twirling in this sea of words
As the rain crashes down and with each raindrop
A gunshot of words
Fired right for me
Piercing me through and through

Yet somehow we're still standing

Every morning
I face you
"Come inside"
No rain
No flower scent
No sun
No laughter

Just emptiness
Dry
Mechanical
Grey
Thinkingthinkingthinkingthinking

"­Goodbye"
I'd say
In the afternoon

Be yourself,
Through yourself;
No other medium is quite as effective.
Profound things just bleed through me, like I'm an open casket,
and you're the sun.
I am... I need... I want....
Analyze, Analyze, ****...
Looking, I found,
Finding, I learned,
Learning, I forgot,
Forgetting, I loved,
Loving, I remembered...

From start to finish I will
forever be a dim-wit
mavrit, talkin' like I'm over-it,
singin' like a hypocrit and thinkin' like a god.

I remember the yellow that shaped me,
the 70 sheets of paper that say, "READ ME."
We all wish to be red.

I'm the worded avenger,
The clickety-clack of typewriters delight.
These are all I have of me,
Words that don't betray and leave.
What else can there be?
But empty pages filled with hollow words,
Leave all to be desired.
For reading can lose all its love,
When all words created expire.