They say that war is hell,
but surely it is not.
Because in war there are the children
and the younglings who've done no wrong.
And in hell there are the ******,
where the wicked men burn for all their sins.
Hell is where the guilty live,
war is where the innocents suffer.
Surely war is worse than hell.

Before I grew up so fast
I once believed I was a good kid, back when I had never seen the world
Where life was just like the stages of the day and moments passed and carried on
But that day I always remember when a new emotion, where I was hurled
To a new territory, to a never before seen place
Where kids began to find it funny on what others looked like
How it mattered to have a flawless face
No blemishes
No scars
No indications of any irregularity could be found
For if it was, kids ended up"outside the club"
Forever bound
To the snickers of others
And incessant gossip of cliques
Where mothers and fathers would ask you how your day went
But all you ever said was "fine"
Not wanting to say what he or she at school had said
Which made you feel self conscience for the briefest of moments
The first time someone had mentioned that of the few
Eligible to possibly join that group
Your nose was too big or your ethnicity didn't match up
And you sauntered on down the hall alone between each passing class
Each day became another fight
To impress the people you envied so
And though you say you envied not
It was always in the back of your mind
Keeping up with the fashion trends
Bending your mind to things you'd "get used to"
And forcing yourself to be who you were not
Each passing day metaphorically new.
The make-up or new shoes you had to acquire
Becoming a liar, and for those passing moments  
Refusing to admit you changed, you turned into the envy you held inside
And anger formed
For as long as you sought to be the one that held the "popular seat"
You could not meet the standards of those who ran the school
Those who set those fashion trends and controlled the halls
With glaring eyes, bending the heads of those who weren't "cool" to their feet
Your anger became a sorrowful doubt
Doubt which turned your insides out
Doubling the pain of exclusion
And adding only insult to the injury
Perhaps one day you realized fast,
That maybe at last you're free from those kids
Who held your talent down to shame
And made lunch a funny game
To see if maybe today you would sit alone
Again and again, each passing day
And I apologize
For on that day
Under that quiet December sky
I witnessed that game, the cool kids played
And sat back and only observed
For who was I to say anything
Paint a target on my back
Yet confidence I did so lack
And on that day I went on my way
As if nothing had ever happened.
Perhaps we all went through this once
Witnesses to a bully
Name called "stupid or "dunce"
Yet we all sat back and watched
And till today I sit
Typing this apology
Realizing I could have made a difference

We do not change, we only lie
Like the clouds up in the sky
To fit the picture, we always try
You can pretend, but you’ll never die

The mob took me when I was young
Though I knew nothing of my abduction,
I was gone before anyone knew.

They came in the middle of the day
As I sat comfortably in my own room,
Who I was disappeared and I vanished.

There were no fliers for my vanishing
No posts, no anxious television interviews
No searches or bloodhounds or roadblocks

I left willingly that day.
Taken from existence and consumed.
That was the day I learned of hate

As if a switch lit the bright blinding light
In my head it screamed in silence,
I’d chosen to go and along I went

I stepped out into the world
With a cold metal heart I gravitated
To its magnetic core

It was an easy decision at the time
To step into the void
Dark and always famished.

We are all consumed by the world
In one way or another we are kidnapped
And no one knows that we ever left

I lost my individuality that day
To a group and mindset
That was bent to hate without remorse

I sit in my room again
Now aware of the consuming rage
That can ensnare groups and people

The mob took me long ago
But I have since returned
More caring than before

More understanding that
We are not born with evil in are hearts
We are only deceived thru a terrible lie,
That hatred gives us power.

I cannot speak for anyone but me
But what I watch is what I see
What will it take to someday break free
From this violence, we must flee
When will adults look around the room
And apologize for their sins
Where egos and rank have no bearing
Ending hate before it begins
When will the ones who run this world
Shatter the cycles of pain
Dismantle all the ignorance
Washed away with heavy rain
When will the day come where I will be allowed to travel
To any place
Where I will not be discriminated for ethnicity or race
When will a time come near, where children play with no fear
Of strangers who play with them, with strangers they call friends
When will the people shout for change? When will they rise and say enough?
Enough with the killing
Enough with the death
Enough with the battle fields, enough with the wars
No more shattered windows or broken down doors
How much blood must be spilled to change the world?
Enough to paint a city red?
When will people cast down their stones and cherish life rather than being dead?
I cannot speak for anyone but me
But what I watch is what I see
And I see a world, a dysfunctional world
Talking too much
But taking no action

Whispers of the heart followed me here
Splintered dreams with muffled screams
With sweet serenity cascading into the abyss
A beating chest fueling sweated palms
Torrential downpours of anxiety
Seeping into this vessel
Drowning
But across the tumult I heard it
Where the whispers of my heart walked on water
Beckoning the roaring seas.

--We live in a broken world--
A reality where man must prove that he is true
Wearing the white cape of justice
Wielding the piercing blade of truth
And puncturing the shadowy veil of evil
Man must act
Grasping the medals he is awarded
Framing the honors he has received
The small bleary eyed boy
With his fathers helmet atop his head
Will grow to fight his own battles
Uphills
And down steep slopes
But he shall take up his fathers sword
And wield it once more
In the field of battle it shall cut through the shroud
With silken cape trailing behind him
And evil shall be vanquished

--However--

We do indeed live in a broken world
And the greed of man has seeped through and through
Infecting the positions of kings
Poisoning the lips of law
And in this broken world
Where a soldier of peace as ironic it may be heard
Will need to pierce the veil within himself
Where the dark has slowly grasped
And where doubt has taken root
For shall he do as commanded
Or fasten the helmet upon his head
In defiance
Becoming the enemy of the kingdom he once so loved
The white knight of justice will choose
And he shall be revered as the traitorous blood
Who turned his back to his fellow man
But in his heart
In this broken world
He shall know he still holds his fathers honor
Forever and ever
--Man's white knight--

A man once said the world is dead
But what does it mean to be alive?
To act, to think, to do, but isn't that the life of what a machine must do?
What does it mean to be alive?
To feel the wind across your face, the burning sun beating down as we run this race,this puzzling thing we call life
But What does it mean to be alive?
A pain of guilt, the shame of doubt? The things which make us who we are?
What on earth does it really mean, to truly be alive?
Be yourself is what they preach, individuality at its peak
But is it unique to be yourself, if everyone else does the same?
Is their truly any way to be alive in this game?
A man once said the world is dead
And maybe he was right
That every person "lives" their lives in a carcass and cocoon
Never fully grasping the outside world, where true life could but loom
What does it mean to be alive?
To be free from all scorn and ridicule?
Without a doubt the world will accept you, no matter, who you are
I cannot say if we are alive but its a place we all but dread
In this life we are a walking dead, pretending we are
Alive

The swelling that starts
From behind your eyes
You've been hit by something
Touched

Sometimes it catches you off guard
Before the emotion metabolizes
Your vision gets blurry
A tear rolls down your cheek

Your nose runs and the waves keep coming
We cry when we have no words to speak
No actions to take
We cry and wail
Because all other options are gone

I looked within myself.
And down the wishing well,
I saw darkness.
We are all wishing wells,
wishing someone would give us a chance

They say to forgive thy neighbor

No matter the wrongs he does to you

But there are those of you reading this, I wager

Who believe you're more wretched than what you're due

They say to forgive thy neighbor

And of course, that is always true

But I tell you this, to yourself, do not belabor

Sometimes, the one forgiven, must be you.

When life comes tumbling down,
as walls do sway and shake.
Though you claw and drown,
you're left with sole keepsake.
Your name is an image
that people know from hill to glen.
Your name is all you have,
when your world comes crashing in.