Nothing is more dangerous,
Than a woman scorn,
Equipped with a bow and arrow,
Shooting at a man naked as the day he was born.
So be afraid little men,
Or you won't see the light again.
Treat a woman as your equal,
And your life will be peaceful.

If God was Real,
Why would he make me feel,
That no matter how much I kneel,
Nothing ever feels real.

If God was Real,
Why would he try to conceal,
His love in a golden seal,
And makes life feel like a spinning wheel.

If God was Real,
Why does he feel like an Achilles heel,
Making it hard
To live in this ordeal.

So why God,
If you are real,
Make humanity under one's heel.

In fairytales and fantasies,
My parents would always say,
That a Magician so talented,
Would someday find his way.

And what way should he seek?
In fields of dust and harrowed meek,
And in his path he should depart,
Into my beating heart.

But he is a Magician after all,
A bewitcher, a deceiver, a devil at the ball.
Who tricked and hoaxed me,
By the time of nightfall.

So curse you Magician,
And the lies you have said,
After all your trickery,
Was that you never cared.


J.F.B

A row of cords on a glistening guitar layed side by side, new and untouched. A new world they seemed to share as they dwelled together in content.
When lean fingers struck them, they played a beautiful melody that nothing could compare to the harmonies that they sung.
They heard the voices sing as they played and they danced along the roaring flames of light tunes. They shared together seas of memories as the clock ticked by until...until it went aray.
Amongst the wires of iron one was there no longer, space taking it's place.
No more did the cords play melodies, harmonies or artistary. They stayed quite, droplets of sorrow slid down the oak base of their home.
But one day...one day the space was no longer empty, but instead another untainted wire stood firm.
However even though the missing cord was replaced, nothing could fill the empty spaces in their hearts.