When given the choice between two evils
I chose the one I never tried before.
I chose the one that would give me the most
And the one who would love me for life.
Whether or not his love last an eternity
Is only concerned in his mind.
I am only a pawn in this sad game of life
And he is the one playing the board.
Where will I end?

High on the cliffs above Lake Lachrimose
Lived a dear old woman taunted by ghosts,
Some of her present and some of her past
Hoping that each episode would hurry by fast.
She could not bring to terms of her dear old Ike
Who died by the leeches, gnawing alike.
He went in the water too soon after eating
and soon became a memory that is any but fleeting.
But now she meets Olaf, spoken in lie
He promises pearls, but soon she'll die
by the same way Ike did, eaten alive.
(Based off of The Wide Window by Lemony Snicket)

Those three little words that he dares to speak
Makes my heart flutter with delight and wonder.
Does he mean it though?
Does he dare say those words to me and leave me with empty hope?
However will I be able to decide what he means?
How can I choose my words to respond?
One decision will take me into a world of harmony,
With cherubs twittling and harps rejoicing.
The other will take me to bliss,
filled with freedom and no worries ever.
So then I must decide what to do.
Those three little words....
"Cash or credit?"

There is a truth universally acknowledged,
that the night brings out the truth in people.
You let your guard down,
You become yourself,
Letting your true self shine.
Lunatics and solarnauts.
Vampires and werewolves.
Do you dare let yourself out and be victim of the lurkers
And sonderers of the night?

What does your drink tell about you?
I prefer my drink with no ice. Simple, elegant, and completely natural.
I prefer the all natural taste not muddled or diluted.
And often days, I see my ice-less drink half full.
The other days, I see my glass half empty, needing to be filled up.
For if revenge is a dish best served cold, could it also be a drink?
A bitter drink that never seems to empty. Always filling bottom up.
Does that make life your bartender?

Did you ever have that moment when Cupid's bow had three arrows?
One for you, and two for the other people you would fall in love with.
It's not something I can handle, but it's something that just happened.
I fell in love with two guys at the same time.
One's name was Macho, the man of machines.
His love for automobiles contrasted my ignorance for them.
We shared many loves, but enough to keep us different.
The second's name was Eros, a man of passion and ***.
He was the hand of Cupid, and knowingly plucked the bow
In my general direction. He shared the future with me, but distance kept me weary.
So here I sit, wounded and unknowing. Confused for the future and
Lost in the woods. My only task as of present
Is to choose one.
Passion or porche?
Future or Ferrari?
Love.

Trapped in the rabbit hole, forever a lifelong journey
To meet and greet the cards and paint the roses red.
Sipping tea from cups that look more like forks.
Where has the Hatter gone, along with his parter the Hare?
And what of Mr. Dormouse? He's gotta be in there.
The Queen of Hearts has faded away, like a palpitation.
The Cheshire cat has spent his nine, giggling in the dark.
Dare we speak of Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee?
They got a domestic partnership, and live forever as combs.
Then we come to the White Rabbit, who seemingly late
had to be eaten, and tasted rather great.
The most pleasing thing to my mind
Was that the flower bed, soft for chattering lilies and roses
Was now harder than fruitcake, severing their vocal chords.
Now they just stood there, silent and foreboding.
All the while, I was the hub of Wonderland.
That's what you get when an Amazon goes down the Rabbit hole.
(Inspired from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass)

Here I sit at my computer.
Lonely. Contemplative.
Scared to death of the future.
What will tomorrow bring?
Will tomorrow be my last?
I sit and think of the possibilities of what could happen.
And with a tear on the brim,
Waiting to emerge,
Like an overly thought-provoked man
Standing on the edge of a bridge,
Waiting. Just waiting.

Just when you thought that you were mighty
Here came the truth.
The truth knocked you down a few notches
And made you see the light.
I was given an opportunity without audition
And declined it because of conscious.
You were instead given that opportunity
Because you worked for it and deserved it.
Instead of thanking me, you tell me
that I ruined you. I was the one who destroyed what you worked for.
The man who handed these opportunities out is now,
in your mind,
Not the role-maker he once was.
I showed you that he offered me the role that made you shine.
I made you.
And you push me away.
A year from now, you will see what I mean.
You will see what I've been preaching.
You will see.

Once I had thought that wizards existed
and I was king of Persia.
I drew with chalk on the ground
and sang to the birds, thinking I could speak their tongue.
(In my mind...)
I could fly, far to distant lands.
I could morph into animals and warriors,
defending the Queen Grandma from the evil villain Grandpa.
(In my mind...)
Long ago, those dream were real.
There was no difference.
(In my mind...)
I was invincible.
(In my mind....)
Then life hit me.
(In my mind...)
Grandma and grandpa could no longer play horsey
and aged to a ripe old age.
I morphed into an adult, with bearded chin and hairy chest.
My wings were clipped and I was forever grounded.
(In my mind...)
The birds tweeted, and my chalk broke.
My crown was tossed into the bin with my childhood.
(In my mind...)
Wizards only exist in books. Persia is long gone.
Where did life go?
Give me my wings back.
Crown me again.
Let me fly high, let me be king again.
All of this, in my mind.