If you will die for me,
I will die for you
And our graves will be like
2 lovers washing their clothes together
In a laundry mat,
If you bring the soap
I will bring the bleach.

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...

In the sea of desk there's talk of
bags & games
and long pipes that leak dreams
with strike of a match
and there's a loudness to the
whispers i hear
whispers shouldn't be that
loud, should they?
There's a girl over there who
everyone knows
and men without ears who will
stand by the door for a price
In long hallways, there are angry
mobs of dwarves and rats
and one single angel.

Who are we to say,
that a love is not to be?
That a love does not belong,
and can never be set free?

Who are we to think,
that a kind is not our people?
That a kind is far beneath us,
and will never be as equal?

Who are we to feel,
that a face can look unusual?
That a face must be a canvas,
and be painted to be beautiful?

Who are we to judge?
To say love is prohibited?
To think below of others?  
To feel minds can be limited?

Is
She
Naked
Because
You
Love
Her,
Or
Do
You
Love
Her
Because
Shes
Naked?