Sometimes you just can't hide behind jokes
and sometimes you have to realize
that every time we feel overwhelmed
and reach for blunt or bottle
that we are being cowards
a life driven by fear
but who can blame us?
from the moment we came into this world
fear has been our third parent
so technically we're all related
Sometimes being a coward doesn't cut it
sometimes you have to stand up tall
and take it on the chin
over and over again
and turn it into the chattering
of keystrokes
or whatever it is
that calls to you
sometimes you just have to look in the mirror
and cut the crap

Say, who did you want to be?
And what went wrong to make you turn out like you did?
Tell me, who were you born to be?
And when did innocence leave you for dead?

Don't be scared and don't feel lonely
don't feel ashamed, your not the only one like that...
Whose dreams became those compromises,
and jealousy became disguises of the truth
As if its all on you.

Don't give up just yet;
you're not the only one who feels like you've been out-gunned
Don't think of regret;
society's met with the battles of our youth.

Just take all of the pain you hide;
it equals the courage you need to look it in the eye
And don't ever criticize yourself
for finding what you needed at the time

You stretch your hand,
Begging for help,
For understanding,
For anything,
For that bit of something.
Outstretched fingers
Grabbing blindly at thin air.

You stretch your hand towards me,
But when I try to catch it,
Your fingers slip out of my grip
Like water…

when the wolves stop licking at my marrow then
i'd hope to find your face there -
but i'm alone there in the wood
and i'm alone here in this wood.
and you are a shadow
and i am a pain-emptied husk,
whistling and
melting into the branches and the leaves.
i am broken bones.
i am a thousand lost things.
i am breathing, i am barely,
and i am alive,
but i wouldn't know it.

Hands are paintbrushes
Intentions the colors
Splatter your soul
Remember the memories you lost in the sink
People are paintbrushes
I’ll make you my masterpiece
Never bought
Never borrowed
Stick you in my gallery mind
My heart contrasts your hues
Hands are paintbrushes
Fingertips the bristles
You can use up the red
Or dabble in blue
Whatever makes it true
Souls are paintbrushes
Leaving marks on door tops
And in white sheets
We colored the rainbow
with romantic gestures
Despaired minds are paintbrushes
Without any paint
Any voice
Never changing the black and white universe
Refusing to touch the world
You bring the brush
I’ll bring the colors
So broken paintbrushes find hope among the paintings.

I went on a bike ride today, or at least I tried
I got a flat,
can you believe that.
Now I have to walk on back.
Which is west, which is best.
It was going to be downhill,
just like a roller coaster.
A picture that should be on a poster,
that says "Life is a Thrill!"

Not sure how many miles out I am, but the wind is picking up.
this bike ride turned out to be a sham.
Don't think I got any luck.
Maybe I'm just a shmuck
better hurry up,
cause I need to make up those miles I missed,
the girls I did not kiss, but wish I did.

No regrets is the mantra,
but is it followed,
or made hallowed?
Life can be an evil senorita.

Does this all make sense,
not sure if I know how to repent.
I never gave anything up for lent.
Instead of getting angry I get bent.
Just trying to make enough money to play rent.

**** that wind, it really picked up.
Guess I'll put on a hoodie,
cause I wouldn't want anyone to worry,
about me getting chilly.
Stop me if I begin to sound silly.

What a fail,
can't even ride a bike on a trail.
Still a fail
glad haven't been to jail.
not a fail.
No one has ever had to post bail.
Except I have definitely have bailed a couple of times,
maybe the reason I am trying to write intriguing rhymes.
Any chance you could forgive me of all my crimes.

I'll have on last smoke,
while I laugh at my life, which is a joke.
One thing is constant, giving you strife.
One day we can sit down and ****.
Then I'll cut some vegetables with a knife,
and cook it with some egg yolks.