Life isn't fair.
Sometimes it's taking more than it's giving.
Yell for justice, if you want or
dream of somebody saving you,
of someone giving you happiness
like buying it in a shop as a gift.
Get depressed, stay at home,
get isolated, get even more depressed,
get frustrated, get lost,
counting the chances passing by.

Life isn't complicated.
It's a complex simplicity, not a simple complexity.
Sometimes you win, sometimes you loose,
a simple truth of life,
you never learn in school from your teachers
or at home from your parents
or by listening to your friends
or watching anybody else.
It's something life tells
occasionally.

Life isn't serious.*
It tells you a joke almost every day;
a joke so surprisingely good, you will cry for months
a joke so intensely captivating, you won't be able to laugh
a joke so terrifyingly amusing, you cannot listen to it again
or it will burst your chest in hilariousness.
Laugh about it, loud and crazy,
don't retreat a chance to look,
as life's osbcure and obtrusive faible for grim sarcasm,
is always worth a level-up or two.*

Life is just living.
It's about hanging on, about clinging to it;
There is nothing special to it, no mysteries to be solved,
no desire and no craving, except you go for it.
It's a game you can't refuse without playing it anyway,
so trying to win is as good as loosing by doing nothing.
And when you are not satisfied with the outcome
or you always end up loosing despite your biggest efforts,
you can always change how, why and with who you play
and start anew.

Be as a kaleidoscope
and fractalize the mind.
Embrace the dichroic glass,
and break what limits bind.

Smoother than a marble egg,
yet tempered more than brass,
bemuse yourself entirely
with Millefiori glass.

For in its mystic ampule
birefringent voices dance,
and visions come together
should time befit the chance.

No turn, nor shake, nor twist
can break its hallowed grace.
Acknowledge its diversity
and revel in azoth space.

Its symmetry is blithe at times,
yet stunning through and through,
and dashing through its mirrored hall,
the light shall come to you.

There is beauty in a beam of light.
Caress its warmth and hope.
How wondrous still that beauty grows
with a simple kaleidoscope.

Time;
I remember
a time when
cities were made
of nothing but Legos
and one's imagination.

Still,
even now
I can't help
but wish harder
that the cities we walk
were still made of that stuff.

Cardboard,
took us miles,
and paper planes
really did bring us flight.

So,
I ask;
Please,
don't let
your imagination
fall into stagnation,
like a Lego block
that gathers
dust.

Tell me that you love me and that you'll stay,
because time takes passion slowly away,
and I don't care if you forget my name,
but all the same,
remember how I made you Feel.

See, love is just a word with no meaning
and more than once I've been left dreaming.
Hopeless romantics can't compete
with how much I succumb to cold feet.
But, all the same,
remember how you made me Listen.

Smell the dead roses scattered about.
The petals die amongst new sprouts,
just as this, you spoke my name,
but all the same,
remember please, our Taste of freedom.

My Senses spin with unfulfilled desire,
and upon silent lips, the coldest fire.
Yet still, I wish to hear that phrase,
"I love you," more than ever these days,

but all the same,
and upon my name,

what you couldn't say
I cannot blame.

[Here lies...]*


Here lies memory.

Kneeling grief,
monologue
cloaking grave stones
loveless hands polished.

Self pity
in automotion.

Solitude.

Who will love us now?
Retelling stories
of  the gone past,
biased truth
to elude
this
emptyness.

You were my rock
But time and feelings have eroded that rock into a pebble -
soon nothing but sand will remain.

Will you please pass the memories of the time that we spent
Chasing down each others dreams
Too many years of not sure where they went
Nor when they decided to leave

From out the frosted window I watched you wave
As I boarded this high speed train
I don't have to tell you how much has changed
Since you and I were seventeen

The park that we favored is now a parking lot
Progress took what we had and gave it away
Better to have what we had than to have had it not
Though since those days life hasn't been the same

This you'll never read for the fact that we lost our place
In the line that we used to be
Like I said before so much has changed
Since you and I were seventeen

Young love, young innocence, playing to the notion
That it all makes sense on any given day
We took it back then on teenage emotion
Now all that's left is the ache of separate ways

With the swirling of memories I'm in too deep
Nothing more to say on this still high speeding train
Except once more to note that nothings the same
Since you and I were seventeen...