The euphoric feeling of my dreams slipping through my grasp,
to light headed dreams from time wasted,
insatiable hunger which eats relationships alive,
followed by a deep sleep to forget all my pains.
When I reach for that next hit,
that next wake-up punch in the face,
digging myself into this deep pit,
starting out fast, with no pace.
Soon this drug fueled fixation will me a dream,
a forgotten memory of desire and doubt,
something that died when it hit my blood stream,
drowned in a high created by this drug drought.
Alas, this is not how my life is meant to be,
with convictions and morals which were clear,
I was a man who was meant to be free,
now I am a man, owned by fear, for the sake of cheer.

Early morning mist is floating around,
with the hawks flying high in the sky,
I sit alone without a sound,
as I watch and animal about to die.
Swift like lightning a hawk flew down,
gripping a rat by the spine,
as the red began to replace the brown,
I take this death as a sign.
Here I sit alone and confused,
looking into the future of my demise,
death by hawks within due to strife.
My opportunities I abused,
constantly taking my eyes off the prize,
with my back protruding a knife,
a hawk came down and stole my life,
I refused to look into the skies,
and due to my confidence misuse,
from this life I was excused.

Your heart is the sun rising after a storming night,
illuminating my darkened insides,
making it flourish with light.
Your eyes are the all seeing god which leads me to life,
protecting my soul,
decimating all strife.
Your skin is like a warm blanket on a winter's eve,
filling me with emotions,
warming me while I grieve.
And lastly, you are life,
the life that I lost,
that someone else tossed,
the one you picked up off the ground,
cared for and shined,
made me feel safe and sound.
You are the life that once was gone,
except creating a midday summers shine,
compared to a dark days dawn.

We will all live and die,
chasing after those fireflies,
like our dreams illuminating in the night,
only to disappear with flight.
As we reach and ****** and miss,
stumble until the ground we kiss,
And some quit and go back home,
but others hearts are made of stone.
While the others feel the pain of failure,
the driven ones push on with valor,
but soon daylight comes and the sun will rise,
and then we can count our fireflies.

I am why the bell tolls rings,
full of death, pain and hurt,
filling hearts with tears of dread,
for I am why the bell tolls ring.
I am why the church gathers,
gaining support under God,
living through fear of me,
as I am evil's epitome.
I am why you succumb to crime,
hurting others for your gain,
I am the one who passes time,
making your end seem closer.
I am fear and loathing too,
filling your mind with confusion,
I am who makes you feel blue,
as I steal life's illusion.

Art is an obscure excuse for a lowlife to vent,
speak of how one's perspective is wrong,
as they do not ideas circumvent,
because they are too busy singing their song.
Art is a way for someone to withdraw,
live in their own world,
creating their own law,
complaining of how everything is world.
And with this ponderous excuse that is art,
we become something.g different,
revolving away from the start.
With the beauty that is art,
we can state *******,
to the ones who tore us apart.
With the significance of art we can relate to each other,
appeal to the masses,
but not be a bother.
And lastly, with art, we can learn how to live,
through showing our souls,
With this art that we give.

I killed him I think,
because of some out of context quotes,
I was the cement tied to his feet which made him sink.
He did not hear what I had to say,
out of sight, out of mind,
And yet he is who had to pay.
These are the psychological consequences of life,
believing I caused undue harm,
because I spoke of the knife.
But that is merely the facts of life,
I did not stab, swing or poke,
at the end of my gun there is no smoke.
There are merely words which came from my mouth,
nothing deadly,
nothing that sent him South.
Yet I feel a harrowing burn,
a fire in my soul,
that it will someday be my turn.

We live life with great names,
but perish in glory's flames,
hopes fill our hearts that we will be remembered,
And that our names not be slandered.
Alas life has a way of bringing us to ground,
taking our dreams and turning them around,
placing roadblocks in our way,
creating tolls we cannot pay.
We must find a way to break on through,
whether sneak, lie to get on by,
eventually we will get caught by the toll crew,
And it will be our time to die.

Suicide to save their pride is what they said when they lied.
How it was to save face to not appear as a disgrace.
Sadly their claims hold no base when you see their life lost pace.
Instead they lived with fears and covered their face with tears.
As we call them selfish and a coward we do not see how they became overpowered.
While we live with the reluctant truth that things are different from our youth.
Life is dark and full of lies and selfish people ignoring our cries.
And when some try to reach out a hand they are reluctant to show they cannot stand.
It is not one person's fault, instead it is societies halt.
The stoppage of love and empathy which has discriminated sympathy and the birth of apathy.
So let us recognize the selfish few who cannot reach out to you.
Go to them and show them love because it is what they need from above.

Squeezing it out,
like the soul from my heart,
it is just unhealthy,
without a proper start.
I must find motivation,
along with an ideal,
get the proper devotion,
to write what I feel.
And like all harassed works of art,
the critics will just tear it a part,
although I'd rather be stabbed than seen as harmless,
I still prefer that my art is not harmless.
Such is life to have no desires,
but I would rather be the spark to light a thousand fires.

You are the one I love,
that at least is true,
sacrificing my dreams,
for you I will see that through.
Moving to a far away land,
sacrificing my life,
just so next to me you will stand,
together as my wife.
And if things do not go as planned,
Will from my back protrude a knife?
Or will you catch me when I fall,
protecting me from further strife.

The fakers are takers,
giving to no one,
living a lie,
destroying one's soul,
merely to accomplish their goal.
Take what they can,
like a parasite,
stealing your goods,
then taking flight.
But like a mosquito,
their life is not long,
******* blood gets old,
until they **** the wrong arm.
Slap.

Tell me what to do,
and push me away from you,
as your control fills my head,
make me wish that I was dead.
Don't let me find out for myself,
so when I face adversity,
it will take my mental health,
and fill my life with controversy.
But hey, at least you wached my back,
So I learned to not expect an attack,
So when it came,
I was slain,
as my ignorance became my bane.
But you were right and I was wrong,
I should have listened all along,
I will pay, that's what you say,
If only I had followed your way.
So now I lay bloodied and dying,
and in my heart I know I'm lying,
to tell myself that you were always right,
merely to avoid a childish fight,
I should have looked behind my back,
as it was you who had attacked.

Rock this boat with your weight,
sink us to the ocean ground,
the emotional baggage was too much,
we took on one to many pounds.
So as we sink down let us remember,
how we were so light once,
flying through the sky,
now I am your dunce,
and we say goodbye.
But while you continue to sink I must let go,
like that cheesy moment with Leo DiCaprio.
Because this isn't the titanic,
we were not as beautifully indestructible,
so no need to panic,
this should have been predictable.

You are clouds of mustard gas,
and I just released an exasperated gasp,
fill my lungs with this air,
choke me as if you don't care.
Now I'm dead, on the floor,
you dissipate and I see you know more.
Is this how it ends with a death like this?
I've wet myself and the room smells like ****.
When they find me it will be a sight to see,
laying on the floor,
no where to flee,
but I do not care anymore,
as my soul is gone from me.
So let us realize how I died,
because of the things I spied,
your love choking my lungs,
when I saw you swapping tongues.
But now, it is not my place to think,
instead I remember your every kink,
and despite my cold dead body causing a stink,
you still find a way to crush my soul,
as it tries to leave the room,
you block every escape,
making this my tomb,
you *****, you *****, you snake,
can you not see everything you take?
I am lifeless, dead and gone,
blown up from your bomb,
but now it's done and you move on,
but I am dead from your con.
So I move on.

Everyone complains about the "system",
how it is rigged, manipulated and controlled.
But they do not take a moment to listen,
or to take a moment and break the mold.
Work out and do not eat those fries,
then you will say goodbye to those thighs.
Work hard, work long, and get the paycheck,
take a chance and stick out your neck.
Become what you despise,
or stand and rise.
Because you can lie down and die,
and let them walk on you,
curl up and cry,
and let your whole life turn blue.
But your failure is your own fault,
not the systems,
you were not locked in a vault.
You have been duped,
or you are duping,
So stop singing the song the dupees sing.

Updated from my tablet which my white upper class parents bought me to prepare for my pre_paid college

Alexander the Great is dead,
so is Ghandi,
Napoleon,
JFK,
and a good few other... billion.
I will die too someday,
hopefully not tomorrow,
hopefully not today
But... maybe.
We are not gods,
But we like to act it,
rulers and slaves,
all eat, sleep, die and ****.
In all of our glory,
we are all the same,
hoping someone will retell our story,
and that it is not too lame.
But in the end,
whether we die or end up in some eighth grade history book,
we die,
and worms eat us,
like animals... no, not like,
Are.

These spirits that live inside my head,
living in the sewers,
appearing like the dead.
The spirits that live inside the desert,
transparent at best,
trying to make me revert.
These spirits which follow me everywhere I go,
but you keep them away,
melting them like snow.
With a few words and some faith you protect me,
keep them unseen,
protecting me from the obscene.
With a bit of love you watch my heart,
keep me whole,
and help me restart.

Speak,
as if you know what you are saying.
Let it roll off the tongue,
******* like a Dung-beetle's ****,
and let me drink it up like a lapdog.
It tastes like heaven from where I sit,
not by comparison,
but lack of.

You walk away as I stand staring,
and I feel a pain which I am not accustomed to.
finally I turn around to never look back,
I see you turn, but I do not see you.

We were once like lightning and thunder,
explosive and fearsome,
creating such fire.
But like all good storms we came to an end,
and I fear that the rain has come to a drizzle,
and I not longer have a spark to lend,
so now our shock is merely a fizzle.

My word is a lie,
which cuts the ties,
that held our love together.
So say your final goodbyes,
and look into my eyes,
and see it will all be better.
I have moved on,
and you still call,
because it is me for whom you long for.
But like an overplayed breakup song,
you must take this fall,
so try to land graciously on the floor.

"What is the world coming to?" They say,
******, ****, stealing, and lying.
"How did we let it come to this?" They shout,
betrayal, lust, spying and dying.
Oh sweet ignorance,
is it not such bliss,
have you not seen this work was always like this?
We have killed for years,
while drinking victim's tears,
playing on fears,
to control our peers.
Murdering many for the sake of few,
under the facade that "it was always for you!".
But when will we turn the lights on,
and illuminate the room,
finally seeing our bloodied hands,
and our selfish doom.
When will we stop pretending it is for love,
and no longer say it is for a power that is above.
When will we look into the mirror's eyes,
and see that we have become what we despise.

I care so much for others,
so I donated five dollars,
to stop the child neglect,
because it is my duty to protect.
In my country we do not have child labor,
for we have pure souls,
only heathens would allow such things,
so I let others pull the strings.

Pick a side they said,
you cannot choose both,
life is a war,
there must be someone you loath.
You cannot hold sympathy for them all,
some deserve to take that fall,
you cannot care for all the sick you see,
so do not try to love the dead,
or you will end up like me,
and you will lose your head.

You are the sun that rises in my day,
the water that nourishes my dehydrated cells,
the clothing that warms me in a winter's night,
the light that keeps away a night's fright.

I was saved from below,
and shown what is above,
thanks to the girl that I love.
For if a monster such as me,
can feel so complete,
which is a feat,
then there must be a being that is saving me a seat.
The things that I have done,
will never leave,
and I will not run,
for a man faces his fears,
and that does not follow a few beers.
Strength must be given or gained,
through experiences that have pained,
but once you recognize the wrong,
and see that you are strong,
then life can be saved,
and with gold the streets are paved.

What have I done thus far?
With travels around the world,
a top grade education,
while coming from a wonderful nation.
I have pride,
dignity,
and above all, honor.
That is what I'll say,
but is that what I display?
I live like a child,
off the gains of others,
begging for more,
like babe scream at their mothers.
I have a false sense of security,
with a feeling of purity,
I cover up my insecurities,
with humanitarian obscurities.
Inclined to take what I can get,
but complain when I must break a sweat,
but I am truly in the world's debt,
and I still have a chance to be the world's vet.

Do not let me fall down into this well,
please do not let me fall,
gain the strength to save me.
Come and release me from this cell,
smash away at this wall,
come and set me free.
Please get me out of this hell,
I have been brought down to a crawl,
listen please, to my plea.
No one is able to hear me yell,
It may be my fault they did not hear the call,
or maybe I was left cast out at sea.

I do not want to wake up seeing what I see,
the shivers down my spine,
the fear within my heart.
I cower at the thought of being free,
when the stars will align,
when I must play my part.
I do not know of who I will be,
will I shine,
or will I trip at the start.
I must step out this door and flee,
released from this confine,
I must make life art.

Caught,
like a fish,
cut the cord,
or my throat.
Release me into the wild,
or be wild,
and spill my guts out.

There is more to me I am sure,
I could be an astronaut,
or a politician,
I just need to get motivation.
I have more heart and soul,
it is just buried down there,
but I am digging a hole,
I have the stuff I just got to get it,
it may be hidden,
but not forbidden.
There is more to me I am sure,
it is just a matter of finding it,
I did lose it, I admit.
There is more to me I am sure,
but finding it does not make me secure,
so I will leave it be..
And endure.

Lie to me and say you love me,
tell me how I fill your heart,
how I was the one to give it a kick-start
Lie to me and say you love me,
tell me how I saved your soul,
how I set fire to the coal.
Lie to me and say that you love me,
even when I was far away,
you would never wander and play.
Lie to me and say that you love me,
tell me that I make your heart ache,
as you try to hide your mistake.

Release me like a bird from the branch,
close your eyes,
and imagine me flying away.
But when you open them; watch me plummet.
I flap my wings as hard as I can,
only to break them once I land.
Looking down at me you stare,
then turn your back without a care.

Holy hell I hate you,
we sit,
we laugh,
we lie,
about what we should love.
But I know that you do not love me,
you despise me like a Jew in Germany.
You know I do not love you,
for I despise you like a Palestinian in Isreal.
Holy hell we hate one another,
and we both know,
but we lie,
and say we agree with one another,
while we **** each other.
Holy hell I ******* hate you,
how could you do this,
how could you lie,
how could you not care,
how could be be like me.

On a warm summer night filled with the waft of ***** and beer,
surrounded by the fears of every corner rat begging for change,
immersed in the aura of being alone when anything but.
I envision being like a caterpillar growing into a butterfly,
an overcooked metaphor,
but fitting cause I want it.
I imagine leaving these streets and growing big,
throwing down these cigarettes and walking out the door,
working hard until I am hardly working,
living life to the fullest.
As I look out into the endless jungle,
the concrete trees,
that can only be described with another overworked metaphor.
The sun begins to rise
the rats scatter to the dark,
and the lions begin to walk the streets.
I looked down like a newborn monkey,
put out my cigarette,
and go to bed.
"Tomorrow"

Hold my head down and drown me in that lake which we swam in before.
Take the memories of flips and smokes and drown them with me.
Take the idea of us being family and hold it under.
Take the thought of our future and let it suffocate.
Take your heart and let it die with me.
For while I may be dead,
You must live.

I am always told:
What to do.
Where to go.
How to live.
"Climb that mountain to your dreams",
I did. I fell. Now I have a broken back.
"Travel the world and your memories will be your treasure".
I did. I got lost. Now I am a beggar.
"Do not love her! She will take you away!"
I did not. I stayed. Now I am alone.
Every waking moment I listen to what I was told.
How I begged like a dog and whispered like a pup.
Every waking moment I remember what I was told.
I did. I stopped. Now I am happy.

You make me able to work a nine to five job,
one where I sit and hate life,
while becoming a slob,
with you as my wife.
You make me able to work a nine to five job,
one where I come home tired,
with a silent sob,
about how I will probably be fired.
You make me able to work a nine to five job,
where I never travel far,
because my back has begun to throb,
and I quit wishing upon my shooting star.
You make me able to work a nine to five job,
where I never see art,
and that is just the start.
You make me able to work a nine to five job,
because you are vacuum that cleans me up,
the light at the end of the day which revives me,
the foreign land which I have not seen,
and the beautiful tapestry which puts me in awe.
You make me able to work a nine to five job,
because you are everything,
that a nine to five job is not.

She makes me sigh with trepidation,
while you steal my breath like a five mile sprint.
She suffocates my freedom,
while you only choke me with butterflies
She burns me with words and douses me with skin,
while you bathe me in love.
She is cancer.
You are life.

Bombs blowing in the air,
ruins the moisture for my hair,
let dying dogs lie I always say,
as long as they don't get in my way.
Let those slum children die,
so I can let out an excited cry,
when my soccer team doesn't let a goal go by.
We should clean and fix this place,
I will say when I visit the disgrace,
how can a country be so displaced,
how did it become such a waste?
But when I get home,
I forget what I saw,
as I have no time to waste,
with society's flaw.

Why in the big government today,
are there so many politics,
and not enough policy.
Why are we like the mice to their cat,
as we run and scrounge,
and they grow fat.
Why do we sit and let them decide,
when incompetency and latency,
strip us of our pride.
As we sit and choose who is best,
we forget that these men must pass a test,
it is not about who has better hair,
or whether they say their daily prayer.
The test should be one of valor and bravery,
someone who can fight for our safety,
one who is even-keel and not unsavory,
and most importantly
someone who saves us from slavery.

I have a college degree,
but no money,
a future in my eyes,
and that is all I can see.
Blinded by dreams of grandeur,
ignoring the fact that I am poor,
As success is in my future for sure.
Ignoring my surroundings I drive full speed,
not seeing the bump,
I am blinded by greed.
Hitting it and going off course,
running off the road and down a ditch,
crashing with immense force,
and my dreams die without a twitch.

The funny things that love will make you do,
from believing in god,
to tearing you into two.
As we fight for life's ******,
which we shoot into our heart,
disregarding what ripped us apart,
all so that we can make a fresh start,
just to be a blotch on life's art.

I hate you,
thus I hate your success,
while I hope for you to drown,
you merely float.
While I hope for you to be struck by lightning,
you only walk through the rain,
as I watch you and hope you trip and fall,
you leap and bound.
Meanwhile,
I lay here soaking wet,
where I fell into a puddle,
about to drown,
only to die by lightning.

I have a college degree,
no money,
an idea in my head,
and that is all I can see.
Make money, be happy,
made out to be,
the simplest thing.
But when dropped like a fish out of water,
into the so called social society,
without you I am a lifter with no spotter,
and the cure to my sobriety.
So let us see if I can swim to shore,
and get the breath of fresh water,
and you can be there like you swore,
to save me from the slaughter.
You will be my anchor to hold me under.

Let me cut your wrists and **** myself,
releasing you from this mental prison,
where you believe you cannot escape.
So I will climb into your head,
stab you until I am dead,
then I sneak away through the wounds gape.
As I try to run away,
out of sight and out of mind,
I will drown in your blood,
when my cure makes me blind.

I stopped in a broken town called Shelton today,
everything dead and nothing at play,
every building was missing it's store,
And every corner had its own *****.
As I walked into the local shop,
grab a pack of cigs and a bottle of peace,
a man stood like a dog by the door,
begging for scraps and nothing more,
I grabbed him a sandwich and some water,
sitting with him I watched him become fodder.
The church let out and everyone came,
grabbing their food and never mentioning his name,
as he dug in the trash they laughed and pointed,
denying him his bone,
while taking a picture with their phone.
So as I watched him break down,
I wondered why no one took him off the ground,
And with a selfish realization,
no one wanted his contamination.
Losing what they have is what they worry for most,
And God forbid they become his host.

I will be that hurdle you trip upon,
I am the water you burn in,
I was the drought that drowns you in fire,
as you are the muscle that overpowered me,
the air which flourishes you,
and the rainfall which nourishes you.

I lost it some say,
when I went away,
I lost it she said,
after we were in bed,
I lost it they spoke,
when I didn't laugh at their joke.
But I did not lose it,
it just was not there,
I created a facade for them,
but now I do not care.
I am a butterfly coming out of its cocoon,
flying high above the fears,
during a midsummer June.
I did not lose it,
when I turned you down,
I did not lose it,
when I did not drown.
I swam to the top,
and took a breath of fresh air,
and swam to the shore,
and dodged every snare.
When my feet felt the sand,
pushing between my toes as I would stand,
I did not look back into the ocean,
for I had passed that hurdle,
and am now running in full motion.