intoxicated by lyrics and smoke
sobered by the hearts broke
high on lips and skin
low when pain sinks in
anxious for his love
depressed from her rejection
trying to make poems rhyme
giving up on any hopes of perfection

throwing up all of my feeling in a poem
so I don't have to face them
in the "real world"
as if spilling my soul on HP
could ever fill the emptiness
consuming me whole

We're tricked by society into believing that we should change instead of being encouraged to accept who we are.Accept yourself for who you are..nobody is perfect...it is your imperfections and flaws that make you who you are..embrace them..you are unique in your own way..there's no substitute for you...be yourself..love yourself..be proud of yourself..no matter what anyone says.

'Isn't that what we do in this world?....try to salvage the wreckage of our disappointments,losses and broken hearts,cherish our moments of magic and glory,forging ahead and charting a new course.'

-Megan Kearns

Never let any doubts or fears defeat your conviction
Make those hurdles face prosecution
Always keep yourself filled with motivation
Remember...the path to success is never easy..it's always filled with occasional periods of oppression
At times you might feel a sense of depression
But don't give up..fight and pummel your problems into submission
And when you reach your goal..
...you will experience this amazing sense of pride and elation

before you **** yourself,
just remember
that there are
places you have not been
and things you have not seen.
and poems to awe
art to draw
fields to walk through,
people to talk to,
music to take in,
games to win,
and books to be read.

so why,
oh why
do you wish
to be dead?

the dud man wanted a saint
but she failed his mean test
even after a faint and a feint
with a huge sigh he let it rest
took up his rucksack and left
she cast him  a long wistful look
her slumped pose the picture
of internal dejection and anguish
sharpened by an endless lament
that she'd not shown him his theft
of the aching heart of a  live woman
of vibrant flesh, blood and dreams
she longed to tell him straight
she was not an idea to be analysed
and later discarded like an abused rag
but the unkind distance engulfed him
even as the rays of the sinking sun
blended their gold with his yellow attire
thus she knew as of that unfeeling day
such mishaps were the very fabric of life

I never wanted to be everything to everyone.
I just wanted to be something to someone...