She's an unwanted skin tone
She's as pale as death
She will forever be alone
She knows this will be her last breath

She will soar like an eagle
She will fly high and free
She will meet and Angel
She and he will be carefree

They will make a human coveted her and he
They will make him paint paintings of their love
They will love awfully
They will love unlawfully

He is up above

He is disgusted with this perverted love
He is tired of this mess that his own Angel left
He is not going to be kind now, it's time to shove
He is doing what has to be done, many will call him a theft

But, this is what has to be done
"How can you do this to the people you have created Lord? The people you love. Send them for a eternity in Hell... To burn forever?"
Several shall ask
"You will see on judgement day, it will be here very soon." He says to himself

Mistakes become badges
You wear on your sleeve
Preaching "humility!" "kindness!"
Things you have learned the hard way

We stumble, and fall
To only sometimes get up
And walk away from the rubble
That is the monument to the past

We must remember that waves
Are just parts of the largeness
Of the grandness
Of the ocean

And that all things
Are caused by other happenings
That are caused by other instances
That weren't out to get you

We are all the same
In that we are all different
In that we are all struggling
Towards a mountain's peak

What I wish I was taught
Years and years ago
(Or maybe it's just something
I wished I listened to in the first place)

Is that there is no mountain peak
That what really brings all of the everythings of wishes
Is recognizing the wind that rustles a leaf
On a struggling plant on the bottom of a forest

That the insignificance is the importance
That the smallness is really overwhelming
In meaning and truth

When we notice the path we are taking, we find the answer to ourselves:
Always mistakenly thinking it lead to a mountain of happiness,
But realizing it's really a road of joy we've been on the whole time.

I lit a candle today
Thought about how the fire is enclosed and has to stay
How the days must be long
Having to stay small, not being able to grow strong
It must loathe me
It longs to be free
It's holding in all its emotion, it's turning blue
Then I blew
It screamed no, but the deed was done
Or was it?
They both finally get to grin
They leave nothing but destruction
But yet we still light the candle like it is our everyday instruction
Me and my family are gone
The ambulance arrives at the crack of dawn
As the firemen puts out the last sliver of fire
The candle knows it will be back, and it knows many will admire
Many will smell its aroma, and think it sweet
It doesn't want to please you, it wants to beat
The fire is its right hand man
The fire is its number one fan

My life in photographs,
They're messing with my head
I wonder how I got to lying here in bed.
I feel much older now
Yet I am still so young
They say it's good for you!
I have to bite my tongue
Don't tell me that it's easy
As I can't stand to fight
I'll run for hours but no wings means there's no flight.
Take me home again
I can't take any more
I wish someone could see but I just locked my door

My mind is full to burst as I stare at empty space
I try to bury it
But I still see your face
You're looking up at me and screaming 'Why did you?
Leave me for dead because your world was falling through?'
I have no answer but a selfish plea for peace
I tried to bind myself but could not tame the beast

Maybe I should have just put up with my own strife,
At least then one of us would have a better life
My lack of feeling would have surely took it's toll
But as an empty shell, why not just play the role?

Take me away.

Bring me back to life.

how many coins do we have? you count
and I’ll see; call out as you count, tell me
how much exactly; and then how many days
it will take us to…Little Boy with his crutches
can buy a new one, maybe
and a new shawl for mama…
throw it, one coin against the other as you count;
I love to hear the clink of coins…ha, ha –
you know, sometimes
I even lick a coin to see if it’s pure…mama says I’d get sick
if I did that…yeah, certainly not as sweet on the tongue
as the grapes and fruit we sell, but certainly tastes well
to me in my mind
have you another coin in the other palm?
this day a Lord’s servant bought
some grapes in the street corner;
she said it was for her master’s table,
and our grapes were glowing and fresh
much as what her master loves…and she was kind to me…
did you count the other coin? sometimes I wonder, you know,
how many coins we will need till the end of our lives,
like to the time, say, when Old Boko died last autumn –
how many coins will it take to see us to that moment?
Yes, and of course, how many grapes
would we need to sell to collect that amount?

I kneel on tarmac under blackened sky
No creature, breath or breeze here spoils the peace
And on my knuckle rests a butterfly
I shudder from the cold, his heartbeats cease
No frail and fragile flight did he achieve:
His wings were sealed together from his birth
And for that molten moment I believe
How much to him his simple flight is worth
I leave him in a hawthorn bush to fight
Against the hungry shadows, sneaking forth
I didn’t have the heart to end his plight
I feel as cruel as winter in the north
When life, then death are held with open hands
The wielder, faced with God, now understands

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
    Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
    We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
    Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
    Within a dream.


[The title translates, from the Latin, as
'The brief sum of life forbids us the hope of enduring long'
and is from a work by Horace]