When a piece of art has great success

It is observed and appreciated by all the earth

But when success is too great, it then becomes less

And the earth will no longer know its worth

The art is then turned from a masterpiece

Into but an artistic cliché

Doomed, an outdated piece of work

No more, may it show its true array

Imagine a world



Where everyone has maybe ten,

Instead of seven hundred and twenty four, friends



A world where you would have to help your friend to apprehend

That that dude you were with at the mall on Tuesday is not your boyfriend



And it’s not a big deal, its just something you sometimes have to do

Because it wasn’t clearly stated on a page that tells the whole world about you



Where people don’t like, but they laugh at the jokes you do

And where you’d be appalled by the fact that some creep just poked you!



A world where you can’t wait to get out of bed the next day

So you could tell of what happened at last nights cabaret



Because then you get to be there to see their reactions

Instead of just pinning it up on your page to be rationed



Where a hug is simply the best feeling to be had

And not seeing a red square pop up on your tab

I can say you’ve always been there
Through all the wear and tear
You were always by my side
The whole ride
All of it.
But I’ll admit.
Though I can say you were there for me
I will say too, you never did care for me.
As a matter of fact I can even go so far as to say that you were the cause
Of all the wear and tear for which you were there: My sorrows, my stress, insecurities, flaws.
That was you.
It’s what you do.
But I know you’ll never admit the truth
You’ll never take responsibility for those years from my youth
That you took from me!
Don’t you see!?
All this time you insisted you just wanted to help
But all you did was leave me with these internal welts
I was just a girl…
And you made me less of one.
And when I had finally decided I’d had enough
You insisted that I was the one being too tough
And here you still are, years down the line.
We haven’t spoken in a while but you still stay close behind
Every once in a while I will hear you voice your plead
Trying to convince me that I still need you
I wonder if you’ll ever truly leave me in alone
Although I’ll admit is scares me that I might be left isolated
Because unfortunately I am not made of stone.
And sometimes the thought of taking you back leaves me blissfully sedated
Do you see what you’ve done?
The longer you’re here the more I feel strung
Like some sort of puppet.
But I am not your puppet
And you have to leave now
Yes, I hear you beckoning
And it’s sickening!
It cuts like a knife
But I need you out of my life
You’ve been hiding in my closet for way too long
And it’s invasive, repulsive, and utterly wrong!
How about
You get out
You say I never listened to you?
No. I did my share of listening
Now YOU listen to ME!
For years you’ve been a total invasion of my privacy!
And you have the nerve to say that I obstructed YOU!?
……………....................
I can’t do this anymore, I’m done…
I can’t just fork over every waking hour, sacrifice this much of me to someone
But I’m left in total despair,
For deep down, I know you’ll always be there

I was walking though the mall one day

For no particular reason at all, just passing the time away

I was there with my boyfriend and we were doing our usual routine of walking and talking

We’ve both always enjoyed people watching

I guess that’s partly why we like going to the mall

We go there sometimes when we aren’t really even looking for anything at all

And that’s fine

It’s just something we do to waste some time

It’s better than just sitting around at our houses

So we thought we’d get out and look around at the t-shirts, the jeans, and the blouses–

Anyway,

That’s enough of that, I’ll get back to the specific events of that day.

Like I said we were just walking around

And one thing I could not help notice was all of the sounds

Every time we’d walk past a store

A different tune would emerge from its core

Attempting to briefly describe

Its personality but it struck me as more of a bribe:

“Come in here! We won’t bite!”

But they will chew up your money right out from under your sight.

Once again, I’m sorry, I’ve fallen off track

I have to get back to my story…

So on top of the sound of the music from the stores creating a sort of Doppler Effect

Another thing I noticed and could not forget

Is the bits and pieces of different conversations

All so entirely different like they were their own little nations

A small group of preteens giggled and gossiped as they did fly by

No sooner did the clique disappear I heard a baby cry

A mother and her children: one infant, two sons, and a daughter

Mom said “we’re leaving” but the children, they fought her

Awkward… As I quickened my pace to sooner pass them by

The next I encountered was a group of young guys

Not so young as the girls from before

No, they looked as if they were about twenty-four

With all their ears stretched and tattoos and their chains

I feel like they did it to be different but quite frankly they all look the same…

Next walking towards me is an elderly pair

A man and a woman with thinning white hair

They look very humble and seemingly fair

I wonder what they would think of those guys back there

It’s funny to wonder why each of them have come

And even to wonder where they’re all from

Did they come here as we did, just for something to do?

Is this place an escape, or did they just come for some shoes?

All of these types, with each such a different face,

For one reason or another we all ended up at this very same place.

If it weren’t for other artists I would not love what I do

They make my ideas brighter when I’m making something new

Each one has a certain style that lets who they are shine through

I like to think that when I write I have a style too

And you’ll never see a piece alike. No, not a single two

It really is quite gripping that it’s all so unique and true

And I can almost not believe all the different points of view

It really proves we’re each our own and no one can do it quite like you

No matter what the art you choose, or where you’re from, or who

Cheers to all the artists, and I bid to you, adieu!

The world could learn to understand
That good is made by man
Sometimes what is good for one
Won’t fall into your plan

It is this very disagreement
That breaks the world apart
Even the smallest variance
Can cause a war to start

When someone breaks the rule of right
We all get up in arms
How could they have done this crime
And caused the world such harm?

It’s utterly outrageous!
Well, to some it just may be
But to others it might not be the case
And they would disagree

The thief who stole the loaf of bread
Has children starving back at home
And the one who didn’t “get a job”
Can’t afford a decent set of clothes

Even a killer, in his disarray
As horrid and filled with spite,
Do you think he would have done the crime?
If he didn’t think it’s right?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to condone
The crimes that people do
I just wonder if perhaps you might have done the same
If you had lived your life in that person’s shoes

And you might say no.
And I’ll believe you as that’s for what you fight
Because everyone, in their own heads
Is fighting for what they think is right.

Speak not when in awe

The most beautiful moments

Are muffled by words