I'm a couch *** with no money.
I want to laugh but there's nothing funny.
and on the plus side they say my fathers heart is beating funny.

I'm looking for that job but there's little opportunity.
I would smile if i had a reason
i would relax but i dont have the luxury.
dad i still need you please to leave me.

i have to many tears to shed
im getting  dehydrated.
im so lonely i cant even get voices in my head.
theres only one. its mine broken and sad
all i do is wish for a bed and pray for my dad

She fell in love with words
that were voids
filled with nothing but the spewing lies
that he pulled out of his mouth.

I see her every night.
When its a good dream everything goes right.
But in my night terrors she comes to pull me out of fright.
She is the reason i sleep during the day.
she is my savior through the dark night.

I swear those eyes are surreal
but when i wake that last kiss seemed so real.
when im awake i cant deal.
i want to feel without being afraid to feel.

because she is my dream and she is imagined for me.
hopefully she is more of a premonition.
and we will soon be.
but she is only a dream.
but in my heart she's a maybe :)

We hear the sounds and our bodies react in rhythm
The blind and deaf have mastered its art...
I know its hard to fathom.
that universal power even you can feel it.
music is power. no matter, what even you can wield it

Sun sets as the day comes to rest.
just peaking over the hill
it dimly lights the sky
White to pink clouds fill.

dreams of floating on these evening pillows
made of silver lining with no thought of the fall bellow.

On this pink cloud sets the atmosphere
Relaxed layed back
romantic lighting fills my mind here.
Jazz and blues is carried with the winds pushing these clouds.
No worries of fear only beauty to see and hear

But every cloud is different in shape and size
This only the thought of my pink cloud.
everyone has their way to float
What makes you smile and gives you the inspiration.
pink clouds made of temptation.
pink clouds are our own interpritation
whats your pink cloud
If you felt like you were to high to jump wat would be your floatation

Call yourself a friend of mine,
Forcing me to “neck” beer and wine?
Lovingly mixed with ***** and gin,
And dash of ketchup added in,
Wasabi for that extra kick -
The whole thing just makes me sick!
It’s not fun or cool or clever,
But a study in peer pressure,
Present in the world we live in,
Where for a guy or girl to “give in”,
Is expected for their reputation.
But what kind of expectation,
Is encouraged sado-masochism?
A concept likely to cause a schism,
For those who didn’t use their head,
And unsurprisingly now are dead.
I am sure as you will surely see,
And the poet Dylan would agree,
That as long as you ignore
The deaths of one, two three and four
How many, many, many more,
Are needed til we scream and cry?
“We caused too many youths to die!”
And for what cause? Acceptance.
Whose loss is needed for our repentance?
It’s all well acting free and wild,
But each of us is someone’s child -
Whose loss would surely cause sadness,
Hurt and pain and grief and madness?
And stomaching death is much harder
Than soap or dirt or grease or lard or
Whatever miscellaneous things
This activity inevitably brings.
Just saying “no” might make you quiver
But trust me; it’s better for your liver -
And living x years sans hurt or maim
Is worth > than 15 minutes of fame.
So do the maths before you do it -
Or else I bet you’ll likely rue it!

Started with a bowl of blue dreams.
holdin down the smoke with oak heart ***.
feelin like a beach ***.
drunk kickin the sand between my toes.
how many joints ive smoked no one knows.

but im ****** up on this shore
feelin more silly in the dome then pauly shore.
watching the green burn
as the bacardi runs.

good life on my beach.
my swisher is peach
my **** is rich.
my buzz got me feelin like the ****.

**** poetic structure.
im pokin holes in my brain like acupuncture
not quite thrown
my writing is done.
goodnight in gone