It's hard to throw away
even the smallest of gifts or things.
Or place old photographs away.
Because when I touch these things,
feeling them.
Rereading the old notes from years ago.
I remember the feelings I had, the people I knew.
And as the past comes flooding through
I remember who I was.
Even the tiniest of things
can stop me cold and force me to remember.

I wave to you as I leave.
Oh what a terrible day,
for rain.
Thankfully theres a silver lining
that goodbyes always end,
with hellos.

I see you now that time has passed.
Once best of friends from long ago,
but now distant and nothing in common.
It's good to see you are faring well
and I'm glad how you seem to be.
I only wish however we kept up,
but now if we saw each other on the street,
we would have nothing to say.
Absolutely nothing at all.

Sometimes you must do bad things,
to stop bad people.
My only question is,
if you do bad things to good people to stop them,
which are you?

From the beginning they were beaten
As peasants they were whipped
Babies who'd never eaten
No fine wines were ever sipped
So they rose against their oppressors
Burnt the kingdom down to dust
But now with newfound aggressors
The cycle spun as it always must

The saddest thing for men,
is that each holds their own price.
In one shape or form or another
We hold the rope keeping the blade from falling,
but all ropes can be cut

Give a man a weapon
And he shall use it
Not because they choose to
But because it is in their nature
Violence runs through their blood
Throbbing in their souls