Perhaps the shore secretly awaits the ocean's return,
prays to the stars that the waves will not give up.
She begs him to return because in that brief moment,
he is able to wash away her past.

So many people walk all over her,
taking what they like, disregarding what they don't,
but when he comes back, she is left with a clean slate.
Momentarily, she can forget her imperfections
because he is all she knows.

And when he leaves,
he leaves with an unspoken promise that he'll return.

Smiles for the last one standing,
The one that's better than us all.
Set him there so we can watch
And wait for him to fall.

While he stands, we are his puppets.
In his sugar-laced, poisoned words
(That he speaks so low and gentle)
The sly deception can't be heard.

Our world becomes an incinerator
Of muffled screams and silenced cries.
Still, his judgement is never questioned
As long as his banner flies.

But there's a noise there in the distance.
A very faint but determined voice.
It's chanting softly from the heart,
Reminding us we have a choice.

We don't have to stand here waiting
For his next deceitful demand.
We're being lead off of sheer blind faith,
Toy soldiers with our heads in the sand.

Some refuse to hear it
While many others join along
With this hopeful rebel chanting
That's starting to resemble a song.

The singing develops lyrics.
More and more of the crowd join in.
It's becoming a revolution,
One that's destined to win.

He finds this rather shocking.
This wasn't part of his master plan.
Figuring this was better afterall,
People sing while they still can.

With every note, the crowd grows stronger.
A nation united, hand in hand.
Not thinking about the consequences  
Of making their final stand.

"I will have order!" A voice from the abyss,
Our fearless leader, fighting one last time
To have power over now waking citizens
Who will make him pay for his crime.

He has no choice but to fall to us
For now, we're all that he can see.
And just to think, it started with chanting
Three simple words: "Let it be"

Do I consider myself a writer?
Well, I'll try to make you see.
Do you consider yourself to fit
In one specific category?

So yes, I am a writer.
I'm an artist with a pen.
I'm a dreamer, I'm a believer.
Just as many before have been.

Wishful thinking may get you nowhere
Except for pages on a shelf.
So, I let the words control me
Until the words become myself.

Happily ever afters,
Magic lamps and crystal *****.
All your trust and hopes
Depend on mirrors on the walls.

In ink drops on a paper,
I've found I can pretend
To be anything I want to be.
So, I'll be fearless 'til the end.

Princess lonely, broken maiden,
Any mask that I sketch out.
Fearless leader, wicked enchantress,
But the best beyond a doubt.

Why, yes, I am a writer,
Because my limit is not there.
In fact, I may be lying now,
But I doubt that you would care.

You have faded into yourself.

You used to be the boy with your eyes too wide
and your hair swept ever so slightly to the side.
You really caught my eye.

If we ever landed in the same room
(by what I used to believe was luck),
you would not go unnoticed.
No, sir.
Not by this girl, not by your best friend
who could always find the words to make you smile,
but never the voice to make you feel.
Not by me.

See, I was born an observer, and you...

You strut when you walk.
You like your boots bruised.
You'd rather spit sunflower seeds
into a can than a bottle.
And you always manage to find the girls
who aren't sure they have a place.

You are a sight for tired eyes.
Every boy-crazy, bright-eyed girl
who crosses your path would agree,

But it didn't take long for me to realize...
that you were fading into yourself.

It didn't take long for me to see through
the glimmer in your glance and the temptation in your smile.
I started to see a different person
when I watched you for awhile.

When a smile
became a mask for words,
and words simply filled empty space.
When I was confident that no one saw a scrap of fear
behind my pale and practiced face.

You became the center of attention.
You became the center of a whole lot of tension...

Though my strengths were questioned by none,
my weaknesses were discovered by one.

Those moments when I felt alone
are the times it appeared to be
that the whole time I was observing you,
you were seeing me.

It happens when you walk by
And you hardly glance my way.
It happens when my friends talk about you
And I can think of nothing to say.
It happens every time our eyes
Accidentally meet.
It happens whenever someone else
Tells me something sweet.

Those are the moments that are hardest,
When I get a second glance,
Because it’s those moments that I realize...
You aren’t worth a second chance.

The boy in the tree, he was so nice,
That his fiery stare was cold as ice.
Drop that ice into my lemonade
And you'll taste the drink that Satan made.
And when Satan rears his ugly head,
You'll hear the last prayers of the dead.
And when the dead all start to rise,
You'll see the fire behind their eyes.
And when the fires refuse to burn,
You'll feel them urging, "It's your turn."
And when you finally take the stand,
You'll smell the fear throughout the land.
And when the land begins to shake,
You'll think you're falling in a lake.
And when the lake begins to part,
You'll know you've been dead from the start.

My chocolate dipped sword,
Such a bitter lullaby.
A burden at the least,
As the honored soldier cried

Don't make me just a product
Of your twisted memories.
You're making something out of nothing,
Turning broccoli into trees.

Yet, another moment passes.
The clock ticks perfectly in time
With my slow and steady heartbeat,
Unaware of your latest crime.

Oh, excuse me sir, but I failed to see
The crown upon your head.
Did you think that since you disapproved,
I'd just be left for dead?

Once again, you've been mistaken.
I can simply ignore your song.
Your facade just doesn't work on me,
I've seen it for too long.

So goodbye to all the judging.
Farewell to you and yours.
"Take thy beak from out my heart,
And take thy form from off my door."

It's a brand new day,
It's another Chance
So make it your own,
Don't just walk, dance!

Make a new discovery,
Refuse to stand in line.
Pry open those heavy eyes,
And take in the rays of...
        Of what?

In my darkened room,
the only light,
belongs to my clock.

And that's useless still,
for all that it shows
is the time that it's not.
      {tick tock}
          {tick tock}
  another broken arrow
          {tick tock}
        {tick tock}
  to chase the dove away.

Shout!
                Until you're
                coming in clear.
                Their fragile,
                fallen angel.
Speak
                of love that
              lifts your wings.
              She knows no
              bindings to bear.

        What holds me in
      this cherished place?
      Wings, invisible to
      the faithful.

    They see me through
    a veil of doubt,
    My sins on my
    face in ink.

"That's me in the corner. That's me in the spotlight, losing my religion."

They ask me why a bird can fly,
And why I choose to dance.
Why is blue the color of the sky?
Why are my socks outside of my pants?

I simply answer
With a smile and a wink.
I start a war
To make them think.


So ask me why my ice is hot
  
          You say "Why?"
          I say "Why not?"

They ask me why a bird can fly,
And why I choose to dance.
Why is blue the color of the sky?
Why are my socks outside of my pants?

I simply answer
With a smile and a wink.
I start a war
To make them think.


So ask me why my ice is hot
  
          You say "Why?"
          I say "Why not?"

When you galloped into my life on your valiant steed,
Proudly announcing your arrival,
I was not swept off my feet.

No, they had long since been buried in cement.
For fear of tripping, I guess.
Fear of falling?
Fear of hitting the ground.

And as for my breath,
I simply had none left.
None to be taken or held.
Stolen or caught.
None to be wasted.

But this is not a poem about my past.
This is not one more memento of mistakes and heartaches.
No, this is me thinking about the future for once.

This is about love.

At least, it has the potential to be.