All these broken kids, want a parent's pride
But once you hear those words
They still fall short, in the void so wide
Spent your whole life, questioning why.
I can't blame me, you barely know me
And for every night that I felt incomplete
I did my best to try, try so hard to never be you
If only you knew, I hope some day you see.
The only real conversation we ever had,
Was me having hard times, you said you're in therapy,
Even then you didn't care for me.
You felt bad for a moment, but I've spent 15 years in a moment.
For every chance you're given you drop it.
Time for a game, time for a job, time for a second marriage.
Time for your children? Those washed up excuses are getting lame.
Forget it, I'm healed, here's for the rest of us.

For the mother, getting beaten and bruised
Don't stay for the kids
Leave for the kids
A marriage is the least you have to lose.
No matter the hobby, the job, the passion
For the kids, try to match their excitement.
My generation isn't lazy, we're outcasted.
An Internet of people saying your dreams can't happen.
For the kids, build them up, make hope outlast them.
For the mother, verbally bashed to feel useless
It's simple, you aren't useless.
For the father, stay active, protect your family,
You do matter.

I'll cut the poetic verse to tell a short story and I hope it gets passed around. When I was ten, my sister was fourteen. My parents split up and while I was young, I remember a lot. I remember struggling to get by with my mom and sister. My father was quickly in a new relationship. His soon-to-be new wife and he would spread a million stories about how she talked badly of him which even got around to my teachers in school. It's funny, she never said anything bad about him, we didn't want to go with him on the weekends because he was pushing for us to sleep at his new girlfriend's house. It got to a point where when we would call my father, the new woman would pick up the phone and tell us not to call him. So many years later, my sister and I still keep an open door for him. We are facebook friends and whatever (I don't have his phone number, I messaged him a few years ago for it and he ignored it). Occasionally, I get a message asking how I am and I always respond, he reads my response and never writes back again for months or a year. He wishes me a happy birthday and father's day on my Facebook to keep up appearances or something but truthfully I don't know him at all. My sister got a house a couple years ago only a short distance from where he lives and even after many invites, he still hasn't  visited. This is the same guy that to strangers seems like such a fun guy, I've never met. And every part of this involving me really doesn't matter but, I wish he would see where my sister lives and I wish he gave a **** about her becuase she actually cares that he wants nothing to do with her. And to any part of this that is called fabricated, I remember everything and so does she.

A loud caller,
A tail chaser,
A  fast runner,
A human saver,
A cat hater,
A trouble maker,
A good swimmer,
A messy eater,
A poo leaver,
A noise maker,
A face licker,
A fetch carrier,
A tail wiggler,
A bone eater.

She laughs, he smiles.
The black forest taste he could only taste at the peak of light beams
Her laugh seems similar, quite similar.
Her haha's outcasted the glooms and dooms
Just as the black forest melted on his taste buds when sun rays streaked upon his shoulder blades.

She cracked a joke, he laughs and nods
Intellectual is what they might say
A brainy maniac she is, who could co-host a sitcom
His Friday nights would now only be filled with her wits
Replacing all the beers and stouts for a while
His once bumpy and rocky throat is nil compared to the highly raised cheekbones visible during a good laugh

But one day she cried.
The guilt he carries overshadowed his sympathy.
Her big swollen eyes
Her pinkish and warm face which was covered in dribble
Hadn't he known?
All those time he made somersaults, he was drown deep below
He could breakthrough,
but was too mesmerized by the mermaid's blinking fishtail and scaly skin.

And she saved him
From being turned into a merman
Only then he was back to square one
Where her laughters, her jokes and her sobs are actually his sugar crush, his Gatsby gold
As always, she was after all, his soul saver.

I'm a *******. A *** of gold. You can say that I'm young or simply just cold. I'm a killer, a saver, a reckless heart breaker. I love from my soul and only hate the haters. I can only be me so don't be surprised, the moment you see the great mind behind these sly eyes.

There are castaways
People lost in the cold
People without a place
To go and wondering
Where their next meal
Is going to come from
There are people who
Are lost in their hearts
And in their heads
Stuck in an inner
Darkness that threatens
To consume their
Soul in hatred
And anger
There are people
Who are cast aside
Who are left out
Of society and
Ostracized on
A regular basis
Who can't fight
For themselves
And so they
Inevitably
Get left in
The cracks
Of life not
Belonging
Any place
Feeling like
They are lost
In the cold
With no way
Out in sight
We could all
Use a life raft
That life saver
That helps us
Float back to
Life and put
Our feet on
Solid ground
Helping us float
Through the hard
Parts and saving
Us when we really
Need it the most
We must be willing
To be that life raft
Or that life saver for
Other people in the
World who are the
Castaways with
No land or hope
In sight just stuck
In a never ending
Rolling sea that
Threatens to drown
Them with each
Passing moment
If we can all extend
Ourselves and be that
Life raft and that
Life preserver for
Someone else
I think you will
Be surprised just
How much life
Will throw you
'Those little lift rafts
In return when you
Need it the most

doomsday dreaming
child's play screaming
***** devil scheming

i could disappear

one-time saver
two-time stopper
three-time clocker

i should disappear

untied up
bottled down
freely bound

i can disappear

stand - ovation
people - nation
love - starvation

i will disappear

The air is dark, the night is sad,
I lie sleepless and I groan.
Nobody cares when a man goes mad:
He is sorry, God is glad.
Shadow changes into bone.

Every shadow has a name;
When I think of mine I moan,
I hear rumors of such fame.
Not for pride, but only shame,
Shadow changes into bone.

When I blush I weep for joy,
And laughter drops from me like a stone:
The aging laughter of the boy
To see the ageless dead so coy.
Shadow changes into bone.