Star light, star bright,
There are no stars tonight.
But even in the darkness,
We can still find the light.

You can live for an eternity, but never become wise;
You can be blind without any problems with your eyes.

I've lived a few years; seen much and felt more.
I've lost everything I am, changed forevermore.

After living for a short time, there is a lot in my head;
Knowledge doesn't have to come from what you've read.

Ask me a question, and I'll give you an answer.
Not responding eats away at me, growing, a cancer.

Long ago given the curse of a stream of questions, infinite,
All askers seeking the substance of something definite.

My name is ancient, one you'll recognize instantly ,
In English, the name I was given is "Honesty."

Today, a man asked me a question I'd never heard before.
This question shook me and changed me forevermore.

He asked me to tell him the saddest words I happened to know.
So, in his ear, I whispered four little words: "I told you so."

They say that your destiny
Is at your feet, just waiting,
Waiting to be seized.
They say that you have
A great future, the many
Things that you will do.
But if you really think
About it, they all have a
Plan in their own minds:
A mold that they are
Preparing, you are the
Wax, waiting for any of
Them to shape you.
Wait just a minute!
I am the one that is
Supposed to have the
Destiny, but you don't
Care unless it fits into
Your scheme for me.
What happened to my
Ideas, my plans, my dreams?
What if I want no part
Of your manipulating schemes?
Time for a reality dose,
And, yes, reality bites,
Especially when your
Timid pet thinks for itself.
You can't hold reality captive
So, get out of your delusion.
When it's time, I'll do what
I want to do, not be busy
Filling your mold.
Molds break.
Paradigms shatter.
Stereotypes snap.
Puppets pull their own
Strings if you don't
Look away.
You only see
What you want to see,
So, you might as well get
Your eyes off me.
My dreams don't meet
Any of your grand schemes,
But, since I'm nice,
I'll give you a choice:
You can either support
Me, the real me, all
The way, or you can
Move off the tracks and
Get out of my way.
Whether you like it or
Not, this wax, this clay,
Has decided to mold itself.

I want to stop;
To never do it again.
I've wanted that before,
But I could never make it,
The threat, couldn't shake it.
This time, I have to do it,
Then, it'll be no more.
Six times that has happened,
But there was never any change.
So what's different this time?
Each time I was desperate,
I hate how that feels.
But never hated it enough
To stop what I was doing.
I can't look at myself;
I can't live with it anymore.
I'm tired of the hate,
I'm tired of the shame.
Maybe that's what makes
This time so different.
All the hate has piled up,
A ticking bomb,
And if it explodes, then I'm gone.
I don't want that, so I
Decide to try again,
To lie awake and wait for morning
And see what may come
With the breaking of dawn.
If it is the breaking of me,
Then so be it,
But I will be real.
Real and broken,
But forever rid of the
Mask and the nightmares
That it brought.

Words are worthless unless they're heard.

Be the poetry you cannot write.

My arm snagged
On a thorn
In the woods.
A thousand thoughts
Came crashing in.
Many contained swearing.
As blood welled,
My thoughts stuck
On one thing.
Every last drop
Of my blood
Reminded me of
Just how painfully
Alive I was.
Without the pain,
My life is
Nothing but good,
Floating and dreaming.
With the pain,
Good and bad,
It is real.
Beautifully, incredibly real.