Being wise too young
Is a huge mistake.
One that I'm
Not willing to make.

Id rather take chances,
Be careless and free,
Than taking things slow,
And so carefully.

Id rather be curious,
Than to always know.
Id rather jump out a plane,
Than to stay safe and low.

Id rather ride a moter-bike,
Than a mini-van.
Id rather risk a burn,
Than give up a tan.

Being wise too young
Is a huge mistake.
One that I'm
Not willing to make.

I'm numb to everything I used to feel.
Weeks have passed since I've tasted a meal.

Color slowly crept itself out of my sight,
All hours of the day are as dark as night.

Jealousy surounds me, won't leave me to be.
I'm no longer who I used to call me.

I've dug a hole and the walls are slick,
There is no way out, the pains making me sick.

A distraction could become a ladder to climb out.
But my mind is stuck, I wish I could shout.

My mouth won't move, my sense of smell is shot,
My eyes glued shut, I dont have a lot.

Automatic has become my only setting,
There has to be a dam for this lake of tears I'm shedding.

But for now im stuck in this horrible hole,
Until I find a way to set free my soul.

She has great friends and a family too.
She always has done what she was told to do.
She’s never been scolded by a parent or cop,
But sometimes she needs for this perfect life to stop.
She’s caught in a net, she’s trapped in a bubble.
She needs to just once try to get in trouble.
She searches for an escape, she’s losing her mind.
She picks up a new life, and leaves the old behind.
She runs away from home, starting off slow.
Riding the bus ... not knowing where to go.
As she gets off the bus she takes a look around.
Taking in the feeling, the sights, and the sound.
She’s in a strange city, an unfamiliar place.
She wouldn’t even recognize her own worn out face.
Starting to get nervous she just keeps on walking.
A man approaches her, and he begins talking.
He said, “It’s not safe, go home kid!”
Although she nodded “yes”, going home’s not what she did.
Time goes by, and now its too late,
To be home for dinner that’s always at eight.
Her parents are worried, they send out a search
As they get a group to pray in the church.
Surrounded by sirens, she’s found on the street.
The cops look down, she’s weeping at their feet.
“Take me home” She says to the men.
“And I promise I’ll never run away again.
I Thought I was trapped in darkness, but I was surrounded by light,
Never again will I escape from what I now know is right”.

There had always been something,
Something strange about it.
Something beautiful but different,
Something I would never forget.

A tea set so simple
Yet so delicate and sweet.
Only one in the world,
Not a single repeat.

Don’t know where it’s from,
It just showed up one day.
But once I got a glimpse at it,
I couldn’t look away.

I knew it wasn’t mine,
It would never be for me
But something in my heart,
Said “maybe it has to be”.

Maybe it was made,
Just for me to find.
I chose to listen to my heart,
And forget about my mind.

I grabbed and tipped the ***,
And through the spout came tea.
When it splashed into the cup,
I knew it was for me.

Days and months a year went by,
And I never had a doubt.
Until one day I drank the tea,
And the sugar had run out.

It had become greatly bitter,
The set lost its design.
One of the cups had cracked,
The plates had no more shine.

I was fooled into thinking,
This glee would last forever.
But my hope still  remained,
I refused to speak of never.

Someday that beautiful tea set,
Engraved in my memory.
Will shine again so I can taste,
The sweetness meant for me.

Robert Stone was always known,
For his unnaturally icy skin.
People would swear that if you touched it bare,
Something would change you within.

The myth of Rob comes from one short tale,
Of which I’m about to tell.
No one knows what, or who Rob is,
Only that he comes from hell.

Alone at his home as always,
Rob was reading a bulky book.
But he heard some footsteps through the hallways
And decided to take a look.

A lady is lurking through his home,
And she spots his naked left shoulder.
She reaches and sets her hand on down
And has never felt anything colder.

She instantly regrets her curiosity
And makes an unbearable sound.
Not because of pain, surprise or fear,
But because of something more profound.

Now that’s just a legend, might not be true,
But no one knows where that lady is now.
But it’s past time that I, and everyone, knew,
As much as human knowledge will allow.

Now Rob was aloof so there was no proof,
Of this strange, uncanny theory.
But one day I was curious, of his mysterious,
Flesh that seemed so eerie.

I went to roam and found his home,
So isolated in the wood.
It was dark, filthy, and strangely beautiful.
It looked just like it should.

I peered through the window and there he was.
At least I now knew he was real.
There was frost on the sill, which gave me a chill,
‘Cuz his cold presence I could already feel.

Climbing through the vines, the moss, the weeds,
I found his stunning backyard.
Doors after doors I did see,
But every one of them barred.

Finally I found a window, cracked;
So I began to quietly climb through.
My hair stood up, I had goose bumps in fact.
That’s when I knew the tale was true.

Despite that fact I kept on going,
Then I spotted him in his chair.
He slowly spun around and appeared to be glowing
As he said, “I see you there”.

Glowing red as the sun, again he begun,
To speak in his shady tone.
“Go ahead; touch my icy skin son,
And that lady won’t be alone”.

Because of that tempt, I knew what he meant
But still couldn’t stay away.
He reached out his arm, and to my alarm
I touched it knowing I’d pay.

I let out a yelp, but not for help,
Instead for pure regret.
All feelings were gone, no pain, no care.
No point to even fret.

My soul ****** out, my conscience gone,
Never felt so empty before.
Although I was half mad, I couldn’t feel sad,
Didn’t care for anything, anymore.

That lady from the myth was no longer alone,
In this feeling of pure despair.
For years and years she’d been trapped in him,
In that large and freezing chair.

Standing next to me was a free lady,
Whom I had switched places with.
No longer alone, she had the whole world.
This was the lady, from the myth.

Is this how she, had always felt?
Tortured and alone?
All I know now...
                                            ... is that is how,

I became the new Robert Stone.

A long time ago, a man named Michio,
Lived among the Momiji and Matsu.
Just living his life, with his son and his wife,
Always keeping in his pocket his nunchaku.
Michio possessed the strength of three men,
And everything he always sees.
But as the saying goes, even for Michio,
'Even monkeys fall from trees'.
Now Michio knew that his nunchaku,
Would keep him safe and sound.
Until one night he had quite a fright,
And jumped three feet off the ground.
This bold man shrunk from six foot to three,
And his stomach churned with fear.
His rough hands start sweating; he didn’t know what to do,
But he hoped his nunchaku was near.
Michio made a mistake and nothing could help,
There was nothing that he could see.
This brave great man became a monkey today,
And even he, fell from a tree.

Now Gail O’Riley was a peaceful folk,
Whose heart belonged in southern Missouri.
He lived with papa on the road “Grand Oak”,
Which he had to leave in a hurry.

Gail fled up North to New York City,
He left papa in the dust.
The reason for his leaving sure was a pity,
But good God, it was a must.

He was in deep trouble way down there,
And for that he had to bail.
What forced him away seems unfair,
Now here is the tale of Gail.

One gloomy autumn on Grand Oak street,
Gail decided to stroll around.
Papa stayed back, slaughtered the meat,
It was at home where he heard the sound.

A sound so loud and filled with fear,
It could knock a deaf man out.
Papa stepped outside, but stayed near,
To find what the ruckus was about.

When his shoe touched the dew of the untrimmed grass,
He realized what the sound had been.
With a shot and a scream, as it would seem,
Gail had commit the infamous sin.

There she lay, dead on the hay,
Her name was Carol Mcarry.
She ripped out Gail’s heart nine years ago,
And came back to say she was sorry.

Before she got out what she needed to say,
He shot her dead in her track
To make sure this time his heart was safe,
And that Carol would never come back.

Now Gail O’Riley was a peaceful man,
Never hurt a worm or bee.
Couldn’t slaughter a cow or harm a ham,
That’s how God made him, you see.

That’s why his call was surprising to all,
And why he needed to run.
He got in his car, and drove so far,
Away from the setting sun.

Never did he see he papa, or Grand Oak street again,
Of which he thought so highly.
Carol was gone, and with a car and a gun,
Began a new tale of Gail O’Riley.