This is for the rainy days.
The heavy days,
Blanketed under a dark silver sky.

This is an image of
Timeless days.
Where both dawn and dusk
Fail to exist,
Because the gray never went away.

This is the light drizzle
Painting your glasses
With tiny cloudy droplets
That blur-out your vision

And makes the next step a mystery,,
As you pray
                  For a chance of sunshine.

High above the mountain air
The eye weeps gently on the trees
And every tear that touches down
Could bring the mountain to its knees

I don't recall a face that day
That owned the disembodied eye
What must man do to stem the flow
Damming up the sky who cries

And in the valley far below
Where peaks give way to mossy greens
The sins are all the same and he
Who sows discord fears what he reaps

Deserts occupy the waves
Turning freeman into slaves
And beasts are all
and burdens are not freed

And in the midst of such a strife
The universe returns to life
And balance please do right the wrongs
Perpetuated underneath the sun

It's Blue
      But so are you.
Not that sad Blue/
                                Reflecting from T.V.
But that happy Blue/
                                    That with you I see.

All my life I've dreamed of Pink.
Never written/
                          I don't dream in ink.
But it was happy/
                               I always said
I wanted to be Pink when I was dead.

The night is quiet.
A silent breeze brushes past;
it whispers your name.

Do you wonder why it rains?
It's raining now. Do you know why?
You don't care WHY it rains.
It's not a part of you
so you don't give a ****.
It rains because of me.
I control the weather.
I struck an old woman with lightning.
I didn't care.
Everything dies.
It was probably the most fun she's had in a while.
I saw you with some other guy.
It rained for a week.
Do you remember?
You probably played in it.
Had fun in my rain.
Honey, you hurt me
But you're just causing rainstorms.
You'll never be a hurricane.

Light is more important than the lantern,
The poem more important than the notebook,
And the kiss more important than the lips.
My letters to you
Are greater and more important than both of us.
The are the only documents
Where people will discover
Your beauty
And my madness.

I'm tired
of everyday being an attack
I'm tired
of you
not being able to understand
I want to grow close
but you're pushing me away
And you justify
all those horrible things you say
by the ones I did
But baby
we're not going anywhere
If the past is always
next to you
We can't move forward
If we're constantly moving back.