Rest your head upon my shoulder
Darling,why are you so grim?
Have you ever ever wondered?
What it is to dream?

Infinite lack of space,
You and I are struggling
Moving at the same pace
Yet our lives, we're juggling

Rest your head upon my shoulder,
Darling, why this gloom?
Ever wondered about getting older?
No? Me neither. I despise the doom.

If you throw me a glance,
A glimmer of hope, I hope to see
And if not, lets remain in this stance
Until the sky is clear

Rest your head upon my shoulder,
Darling, like you used to do.
No more questions, let's just wonder
For now it's only me and you.

Do you ever look in the mirror and hope to see what you're not,
for all of your worries and frown lines to have been banished from your face,
the hurt from your sunken eyes to have gone whilst you slept,
the knots in your hair to have unraveled themselves,
for your knuckles to no longer ache,
and for you to have more strength,
for your shoulders to become less tense,
your body to be light,
to drift amoungst others,
who envy your ease in this world.

they like to say that "men" do not cry
so what makes a man?
is it the boom of his voice?
is it strut in his step?
the depth of his wallet?
or the bulk of his biceps?
or is it none of these things
perhaps it's the solitary tear
that rolls down a lonely cheek
and is quickly and silently wiped away
before anyone has the chance to question
masculinity

the only thing i truly seek,
is a way to be
my own kind of unique.
the things i think,
the way i speak,
all contribute,
to being unique.
my own style,
my own technique,
my own way,
to be
unique.

One day, a kid came up to me and said,
"Hey Grace, what did you get on the science test?"
I replied saying,
"I got a 97%"
"Only a 97%?" the kid said. "You should have gotten a 100%,
Since you're a nerd."
And that’s when I started to think

Why am I the one that's the nerd?
We all have a brain
We all use our brains
We're all smart in our own ways
In different areas of life
So in a way,
Aren't we all nerds?

Our brains don't start out super smart
When we were born
We barely knew a single thing
We lived day by day
Using our brains to learn new things
Helping our brains grow
Not in size, but in knowledge
Learning back then was natural instinct
But things have changed

Now, there is so much more we can be doing
Instead of using our brains to learn
We have cell phones
And social networks
And TV shows
And parties
And relationships
And so much more stuff that takes us away
From using our brains to learn
It happens to everyone, not just some people

But some people still learn
While all these things are going on
These things that are distracting them from letting their brain grow
They use their brains
To redirect themselves from these distractions
And learn new things whenever they can
By learning, these people's brains grow
In knowledge, not in size

It's those people
The people that use their brains to learn
That are the 'nerds' in society
Because they know more than everyone else
But really,
They are only 'nerds'
Because they let themselves use their brains and learn
Unlike those other people
That let the distractions take them hostage

So when that kid told me I was a nerd
I just said to him
"I'm not a nerd,
I just use my brain more than others."

At any moment I can pretend it’s all okay,
And that’s just what I’ll do to get through my day

I’ll sit and I’ll smile, I’ll chat and I’ll wave.
No one sees through the way I behave.

When my feelings creep up on me once again,
I’ll push them away till they creep back in,
And I’ll cry, way past ten

When it comes time again to go through my day
I numb myself, and the pain goes away

The best part is, you don’t even see
you would never imagine all that’s happening to me
I hide behind my own brick wall,
Build to hide from myself, the thoughts, the words, and everything else
Sadness captures every thought,
My capacity to love is becoming wrought
I can’t tell you what’s happening, deep inside, but I can tell you to please, be very kind
Because you’ll never know when there’s a kid just like me
Crying themselves to sleep without a reason to be seen
They can’t ask for help because nobody believes
Just exactly what is happening to me

And nobody, ever sees
It’s part of the trick, the curse, the scene
Tragic as it may be, it’s happening, everywhere you look
Everywhere you can’t see

Blinded by the simple thought that a smile means you’re happy,
And a frown that you’re not
I can’t believe how little you see,
Shocking, slightly, it kind of is
But then I’ll think I don’t want you to know,
And as another tear drops I’ll curl into a ball
No, no, this isn’t happening
But oh it is, darling sweetie
Voices, inside your head, fight with one another, oh, who will win?
Twisted, insane and sick thoughts
Creep through your head
And you can’t tell a single soul,
Oh, you hide it so well

No one will ever know

Fay met Buruch
by the entrance to the Square,
waiting by the wall,
eyes tearful,
fair hair in disarray.

She had shopping in her arms,
hands holding bread rolls
close to her breast.
Buruch took in her eyes,
the hair unkempt, unusual.

You ok? He asked.
They are rowing again, she said.
Who? He asked.
The parents, she said.

You got to take that home?
He asked pointing to the shopping
in her arms.

Yes, she said, I dropped the last rolls
and he sent me out for more,
after hitting me,
after the rows began again.

I’ll walk back with you, he said.
They walked to the stairs
and climbed up side by side.

Don’t you have shopping to get?
She asked.
I can get it later, he said, no rush.

They reached her landing
and he waited
while she went in the door.
Loud voices, shouts, crying.

He waited, hands in pockets,
wondering how she was,
wishing he could knock
and ask her out.

He waited,
looked over the balcony,
looked back at the door.

He knocked the door.
The door opened.
Fay’s father stood there.
What you want kid? He said.

Can Fay come out to play? Buruch asked.
The father stood staring,
hands by his sides.

Who wants to know?
I do, Buruch said.
She’s busy, the father said,
got things to do.

All day? Buruch asked.
If I say so, the father said.
Buruch stood staring,
hands in pockets,
head to one side.

So she’s not coming out? He said.
The father sighed.
Do your parents know
you pester people?
Buruch said,
Yes, pretty much.

The father said, beat it kid.
I’ll wait, Buruch said,
touching his toy 6 shooter
in the holster at his side.

You’ll have a long wait,
the father said.
Buruch leaned against the wall,
pushed the cowboy hat at a tilt.

Ain’t you that Jewish kid
from downstairs?  The father said.
Aren’t you the Catholic
who beats his wife and kid?

The father stood full stretch,
his eyes darkening,
his hands becoming fists.

Scram kid before I beat you,
the father said.
Buruch pulled out
his 6 shooter.

Touch me and I’ll fill you
full of lead, Buruch said.
The father closed his eyes,
then closed the door.

Buruch waited;
more loud voices and cries,
as were before.