She'll never know what she means to me.
All my life of being lied to,
Treated like a tool for someone else's utility.
Doing what they told me to,
Them telling me that they loved me
As long as I had a job to do.

She wants nothing of me,
Yet everything I want to give.
She's never even seen me
In person, but it's for her I live.
She listens to me.

She listens to me,
Dear God,
She listens to me,
Better than that, it's kinda odd,
She hears me;

She treats me like a person
Rather than the the dog I've become.
I respect her more everyday
Than the setting of the sun,
Yet it's so hard to express,
Every second with her is fun.

She'll never know what she means to me.
Before she came into my life,
I wanted to end it.
Everything was so meaningless to me,
And then she entered.

She'll never ever even know
She was a life saver,
And I'm too afraid to see her leave,
If I asked to return the favor.
All it took was her respecting me
To find my personal savior.

She'll never know what she means to me.
Every time I say hello I want to
Kiss her, Hug her, Tell her that I love her,
But if I do those things
I fear I'm gonna lose her,
Then I'll have nothing to live for again.

She'll never know what she means to me.
Maybe it's for the best.
I'm in constant fear of offending her,
I don't wanna be her pest.
It's a constant struggle,
Staying far enough to stay cool
But close enough to keep warm.

But all my heart needs
Is a little consistency,
So maybe a constant struggle
Really ain't that bad for me?

Spill it all.
Let her know
Every gory detail.
Bleed it out
And let it flow.
It's you
She should know
All about.

Breathe through bile,
Gasp for the air
To form words.
Become open-hearted
And let no surgeon
Stitch you back together
Until she knows your veins.

She'll walk away.
You can spill your guts
All you want.
The people will just
Stop
Stare
And call a clean up crew.

Take Me,
Find a use for me.
It doesn't matter.
All I want
Is to be looked on
With value.
To be given reason
And Purpose.

Make me your shovel,
Make me dig for you.
Make me your sword,
Make me **** for you.
Make me your shield,
Make me guard you.

As your bullet,
I'd pierce for you.
As your grenade,
I'd expel myself for you.

If you need sustenance,
Consume me as would.
My body doesn't matter,
I am expendable,
I am disposable.

I, the throwaway.

“Despite all your love for your fellow man, God has gone out of his way to poison you.” I said. The man had been a wreck for most of his life, and the time was right to reap his poor soul. “You have gained nothing that didn't hurt you in the end.” A visible tear rolling down his face, his eyes stared, watery at the back of her head as she walked away.

“People keep speaking of hope and perseverance...” I whispered, his friend putting his hand on this poor man's shoulder, right beside me and offering condolences as I continued to talk. “...But that's what got you this far. Hope is the only reason you are still alive after years of torturing yourself, living amongst these uncaring philistines who consider themselves people, doing everything you can to better their lives, all they give you is grief.” I ended with a bit of a chuckle. He shrugged off his friend's helpful words and separated from him.

“The Bible is an old relic. Judging by your life thus far, do you really think he'd make a place for you in his Heaven?” He stood on a bridge, staring out into the night sky. Even the stars and the moon would not shine on his this cloudy night... What a perfect time to hit him where it hurt... “You aren't worthy. You were born ugly, you have been battered and bruised by everyone you have ever loved, despite many of them claiming the same love of you.” I said. The man had struggled all his life to be loved and this, his twentieth failed attempt, was sure to be his last, the final straw in a life of suffering at the hands of others. Doubtless, he was remembering those many nights where things had looked joyful, only to deceive him of the troubles ahead.

“God has done nothing if not lied to you your whole life. He's taken away all your joy! He's taken your will to laugh, to enjoy the simple things!” I continued, a smug grin spreading across my lips as he walked towards downtown. “Is this the kind of God who would grant you a place among angels? Surely not.” He walked into a pawn shop, his eyes scanning through the armaments laid out before him. Fortunately for me, this day had been a long time coming, and he had previously applied for a  license. He picked out the cheapest pistol available and a small box of rounds. “You are not human in the eyes of men or God and thus, you cannot be saved.” He smiled a fake smile and waved a goodbye to the store owner as he made his way back out. He turned into the first empty back alley he could find.

He rifled through his items, readying the gun in one hand, one of the bullets in the other. His whole body shook in fear and nervousness. “So, lift the cannon,” He held the gun at about chest-height. “Load the charge,” He slid the chamber back to where he could manually load the single shot and slipped it in. “**** it.” He put the chamber back in place, so the gun could properly do its job. “Take it to your 'holy temple'.” He broke out in loud sobs, using his thumb to pull back the hammer.

“Pull the trigger and let the peace of nothing wash over your poor animal soul.” The deed was done. The man no longer suffered the slings and arrows of this world. Instead, he would dangle forever in the halls of Hell from the trees of tristitia...

To say I am
Against the wall
Is so cliche.
I am against two.

Cornered by society
And it's influence on people.
Women are manipulative beasts,
Men only exist for carnal pleasure,
And here I am blocked on either side.

What does love
Mean to the world?
For some,
It is lust,
For others,
Merely a word of appreciation.

For me,
It is a word of deep devotion.
I would die before I ever misuse it.
So why is it
That all around me,
People commit an infinite cycle of suicide,
Killing their own souls
With the killing of such value?

I love you.
You make me smile,
You compliment my abilities
And you make me feel special,
Worthwhile.
When I'm with you,
I feel ecstatic and joyful.
Anything you want,
I am here to do.

------

I hate myself.
No-one else around,
I tear apart my own features,
I make me feel hideous,
Worthless.
When I'm with myself,
I feel barren and lifeless.
Anything that will bring you back,
I am here to do.

Its hardly a secret.
I have done more for others
Than has ever been done for me.
While I volunteered to do your deeds,
You sat back in wait,
Offering shallow 'thank you's
When I returned.
A job well done, I guess.

You complain about
A harsh life,
Filled with trouble,
Filled with strife,
While sitting still
Fully tended by me.

Never do you hear me
Moan or whine.
My poems have
That light to shine.

I need not say a word.

My smiles are all fake,
Caused by the trickery
Of these miserable women.
They give me momentary appreciation
For a lifetime of service...

But I am too loyal to ever say no.

No.
I don't want you
Though I want someone.
What I want is someone solid
Someone who will stand like a rock,
By my side forever.

You have done nothing
If not proven your fickleness.
Ever since I was yours
(and maybe even before)
Your habits have been
To fool around on your men.
Now you bear the weight,
For which I have no hate.
I still love you,
And no doubt,
I would love your child, too,
But I cannot commit to someone
Who has done what you have done.

You picked the father,
So why should I bother
When that father
Was another?

Not only that,
But you rejected me years ago.
I relive that day in my mind, you know,
And I cannot escape the damage you have done,
But I also cannot make you think you've won.

In consolation,
I pray you have a beautiful daughter
(or Son).
I hope you'll be good to your
Little one.

What is it about a man who's selfless
That makes everyone around them selfish?
Why is it that when someone gives of themself,
That everyone only takes?

There is no such thing as an unlimited supply.
For one to keep bleeding themselves empty,
They must be filled.

An empty pitcher cannot give anything more
Than the remainder of its body.
Yet you can expect a man to always give,
Without ever receiving anything more than what he gives?

I'm sorry,
A man who gives all of his lifeblood
And never receives in kind
Is a corpse
No matter how long you beg him
Wanting more.

I am nothing without someone who can make me into something.
Valuables aren't valuable unless the owner grants it value,
And so
I am worth nothing,
Because my owners have deemed it so.
They own my heart,
My soul,
My allegiance,
But they throw it around like it's disposable.

And so,
It is.

My disposable soul will gladly destroy itself for their whims,
Because they own me,
And they give me value.

Women
Never did a thing for me.
Just tease
And tease
And tease.
Never love,
Never please.

Irony
Is what I see.

Women
Never did a thing for me.
Say they want a man of quality,
But rarely stare
Too much higher than my knees.

Women
Never did a thing for me.
They always wanted me
To treat them well,
When all they'd gift to me
Was hell.

Who am I to these creatures
Besides some *** toy
That's too stubborn
To let them turn me on?
They don't want
My feelings,
My heart,
My humanity.
They just want my seed,
And I'm a farmer who won't sow.

Call me a 'misogynist'
For learning your tricks,
Your 'feminism'
Doesn't stick.

I'm sure women
Feel empowered
With you sleeping around
At the twilight hours,
With 'chauvinist pigs'
In your blankets.

'Mistreated' and 'stereotyped',
What you scream
When deemed unripe.

You blame them for
Not taking of refuse
And call them
'Trash'.
All your words should amount
To ash,
But somehow womanhood
Always makes you right,
Even when,
From end to end,
You
Were the only one fooling in the night.

A name I will never forget,
Boring into my skull like a drill.
Her face,
Her laugh,
Her talents,
Made me love her.

But all I got back was
Mindgames,
Abuse,
And contempt
For all of my love and devotion.

I'd love so much to hate her,
To hang her picture high
And toss her knives and darts
For abandoning all her friends
And the people who loved her like me.

But I can't will myself to do it.
So she will live on forever
In my tortured head.

Promises are words,
Not bonds.
As with other words
They can be shallow
Empty
Sarcastic
Meaningless.
So beware of promises,
Especially the implausible.
Fortunately,
Everyone can promise,
Even you.
So promise them back,
Give what they deserve.
Promises are words,
Not pacts.

To say one thing to the world?
A daunting task.
I can scarcely know what the world needs,
Sitting here,
In this country,
All my life.
But
I do know what America needs,
And by extension,
Maybe the world, also.

Fellowship.
Not the kind that is forced by governments,
Who would take from hard workers
And their families to provide for others
In harsh times.
That is false,
And only plants resentment.

No,
We need a common fellowship of man,
Where men give of themselves and their efforts
Not because they were required,
But because they were respondent
To the human condition.
Everyone picking each other up when they fall,
And only expecting the best of their neighbors.

In a world like that,
There would be no depression,
No charity cases,
No forgotten souls,
Just love
And Fellowship.

I loved her,
So for her birthday
I made a necklace.

She was quiet and shy,
So I made it with bronze,
A material not shiny,
Not glistening,
But nevertheless
Can be made into
Something beautiful.

It does not seek attention.
It exists to be practical.
It does not promise the impossible.
No wealth does it testify.
It doesn't put itself out to be recognized,
But it is made into something beautiful.

A chain to line her neck
And charms full of meaning
Despite their insignificant appearance.

A bronze butterfly,
Hidden beauty within,
The ability to fly free.

A heart-shaped lock
For keeping love secure.

A key for holding close
Until the time is right
To open.

And two turtles,
For the virtue of patience,
Taking things slow and easy.

I don't know
How she'll take it,
I only ask
That she'll make it
Her treasure.

I'd take a bullet
For any and all of you,
Not that it matters,
You knew this already.
For some of you,
I've gone the distance;
For others,
I've practically
And,
In some cases,
Emotionally
Killed myself already.

I've brainwashed myself
That any of you
Would do the same;
An obvious lie.
In all of this,
I've done everything
Just for love
Just for kisses
Just for hugs
Just for the idea
That I exist for a reason,
Just to have you  sail away
Like ships.

None of it makes a difference.
I love you all too much
To resort to piracy.
If I were to hijack you,
Send the signal,
Drop the anchor;
It won't change a thing.
You'll still
Disrespect
And Disregard.
I'll just be painted the villain.

It's time,
Oh,
It's time,
Gotta make our decision.
Your crime,
Oh,
Your crime,
Is worshiping politicians.

In my mind,
On my mind,
You found yourself a new religion.
Turned 'round,
Rollin' down,
Leaking a poisonous emission;
*******
Broken man,
You got yourself a new religion.

You hold,
Oh,
You hold yourself a worthless bein',
But it's cold,
Oh,
It's cold,
This third degree that you're receivin'...

This time,
This grand ol' time,
You found yourself a new religion.
In your mind,
On your mind,
You put your faith in flawed men.
But you're fine,
You are fine;
You got yourself a new religion.

Hums of swinging blades and axes,
Wailing of voices,
Ricochets of guns.
Secrets whispered in private,
Declamation exclaimed in public,
Hymns sung,
Words spoken.
People are the weapon.
We must not doubt ourselves.
All conflict,
No matter the position,
Comes from a common source.
People are the weapons.
All else, extensions-
Of the arm,
Of the leg,
Of the mind,
Of the heart;
All extensions of the person.
By extension,
A person is an extension
Of the people.
Let the power of the individual
Never lie unknown,
For in one person
Is the concentrated power
Of everyone.

Always say
'He's the handsomest man alive'
Always say
'He deserves better'
Always say
'He's a charmer'
Always say
'He's perfect'
Always say
'He's a go-getter'
Always say
'He's a man who gets things done'
Always say
'He's a man of many talents'
Always say
'He's never harmed a fly'
Always say
'He works himself half to death'

Never say
'I love him'.

Too perfect to be true.
The church decorated
All in white,
The satin fringes
Of her gown,
Gleaming,
Glistening,
In the indoor lights.

Outside,
Mother nature's raging,
Her rain and lightning
Almost sounding out
The words of the preacher.

But it doesn't matter.
We know those words
We've heard so often
In every romantic story.

Not missing a beat,
We say our lines
And kiss for the first time
United.

The ballroom tests
My careful planning.
A skylight showing
The torrential sky.

But,
Just as planned,
The first song plays.
Lyrics fill the room
About the light of day
Gracing her lovely figure
Once again.

...And the sky follows its command.

The sun shines on her
Like a halo of divinty
I always knew she held within.

I could never,
In my wildest dreams,
Hope so much
For a day so perfect.

And suitably so, because it never will.

At this point,
I'm probably
Not worth
The effort.

Armor old,
Armor untouched,
Armor tarnished
By age and weather.

At this point,
I'm probably not even worth
The effort to acknowledge.
They all want a knight
In shining armor,
But only until it turns black.

They all want to be saved,
But they never think twice
Of their savior.

That's fine.
When armor,
Tarnished,
Turns to rust,
All their worries
Will be dust.

At that point
I definitely
Won't be
Worth the effort.

It's inhuman to ignore emotion,
But why am I expected to have none?

Not expected to love,
Not expected to cry,
Not expected to care about other people.

Isn't that inhumane?

Isn't that wrong,
To see just a tool,
A means to meet your ends?
An instrument to throw away or lend
As soon as you have no use?

Yet no-one cares about emotion,
The yearnings of my heart,
The burnings of my soul,
And over that,
I have no control.

I can't change a thing on my own,
So could I have your efforts on loan?
You know I'm good for it,
It's a proven fact.

All I've done my whole life
Is pay people back for nothing.
So think what I'd do
To be treated human for once?

I know.
To you,
I look so happy,
So content.

It's all because
You're there to see me.

If you could see
Me without you,
It would be like
Day and night.

Without you,
I'm worrying.
Are you okay?
Do you hate me?
Is that smile on your face
As conditional as mine?

With you,
I have no doubts.
I have no fear.
I would protect you,
And you would laugh and smile.
And I'd have no thought
It wasn't genuine.

My happiness is dependent.
Dependent on my feeling whole,
Dependent on your smile,
Dependent on your happiness.

Happiness is contagious.
Depend on it.

You say I'm
'Too nice' to love.
What kind of farce is that?

How mean
Do I have to be
To earn your affection?

Should I insult you?
Should I **** you?
Should I beat you?
Should I nearly **** you?

These are harsh words.
But these are what you want.
You'd forgo loving
A protector
To let
A Threat
Beneath your sheets.

No matter how many women say it,
'Too nice'
Does not exist.

Let me ask this.
What is
'Too mean'
To you?

You obviously want someone unlike me.
You want someone who holds grudges and retaliates against you?
That's not me.
You want someone who verbally threatens and insults you daily?
That's not me.
You want someone who'll bash your brains out?
That's definitely not me.

Try those out if you want.

Come back to me
When you need your wounds tendered.
There's no way you're coming back whole.

'Stay.'

That's what you say.

'Here is where you'll stay.
I won't be long,
I promise.'

My tail wags
In anticipation
as you walk

Away.

I think of how
Happy I'll be
When at last
I'll see
You again.

Will you tousle my fur?
Will you give me treats?
Will you play my favorite game?
That will be the

Day.

As days go by
I hold my ground.
In hopes that
I will soon be
Found.
But,

Nay.

Weeks go by,
I waste away.
Hours will close
On my final
Day.
But,
In the end,
You could never
Say
Your friend of friends
To the bitter end
Did

Stray.

There once existed a dog. He was by no stretch of imagination the best looking. He was a mutt. No pedigree, no signs of a great upbringing. In fact, he was a stray... Born and raised on the streets, his parents and siblings never cared too much for him, far too occupied with their own needs and endeavors. And so, it was early on that he parted ways with them... Seeking his means to survive.

As time had past and he had gotten used to taking care of himself, he began to notice the dangers of the outside world... More and more, he took note of other, better-looking dogs that spent all of their days cared for and sheltered. Oh, how much he had grown to want to be like them... He wanted a warm place to curl up, people to give him attention and care for the needs that he couldn't achieve all on his own...

Time slept by, and the mutt had advanced a few years, when it happened... A car slammed into his side as he scavenged the road for food, knocking him several feet away. The woman who drove the car stopped in shock and picked the poor mutt up. In an act of kindness, she took him to the vet, and she desperately waited for his full recovery.

This act endeared him to her. To think that a human would care so much for him as to take care of him, an unattractive stranger, in such a manner... From the point of his recovery, the woman kept him home with her. She seemed to look past the ugliness of the mutt and care for it like a child... And together, they spent a few years.

Over that time, the woman had introduced the dog to a number of male human friends... These came and went, but for her sake, he held no qualms about a single one. After all, he felt he owed her much for what she provided him. He felt cared for and loved, which was all that mattered at the time.

Then, a day came that he noticed something different... She had started to wear a ring on her hand that he didn't recognize before. In addition to this, she spent less and less time home. After awhile, she had stopped paying much attention to him... Rather, she spent much of her time messing with some great, white, frilly thing, using strings and needles and scissors...

It wasn't too long after that she stood hand in hand with her new man and began to clear out the house for their joining. At last, they came to the dog... The man shook his head and sneezed, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket as he said something to the mutt's owner he couldn't understand. They seemed to argue for a brief while, with intermittent sneezings and blowing of noses from the groom.

She sighed and gave into his demands and took the dog outside. Tying his leash to a tree, and placing a sign up reading 'Free Dog', she petted the mutt's head for the last time in a reassuring manner. To him, this translated, 'I'll be back soon'. And so they drove off together, the large moving truck behind them, as he patiently sat in wait, intending to guard the household until she returned.

...But she never did...

In the meantime, he continued to sit at attention at the base of the tree. To him, his owner was just taking a vacation... She would be back... So, he guarded the house for her, feeling fully assured that she would return and give him much appreciation for a job well done.

Nobody ever came to take the 'Free Dog'. Many were turned away by its appearance... An ugly dog was never the type to keep... No, sir. And those few people that did approach to take the dog quickly turned away, deterred by his barking and ferocious behavior as he fearlessly guarded his owner's abode. Even as he was becoming emaciated, nobody approached as his sense of ceaseless guardianship continued, for fear he was diseased.

His final day came. All of his energy was leaving him as he closed his eyes for the final time. His mind still on his owner as he slowly passed.

You're late.
What do I do?

I know.
We're only friends.
I want us to be more.

You're later.
I'm frantic.
Thinking of you,
I can't focus.

I want to see you.
I want to talk.
I want to reach you.
I want to walk-

Together.

I'm not whole
Unless we're

Together.

This is
The best poem ever.

Spread the word.
Tell the masses.

Just like you did with
that book,
that movie,
that game,
that series.

Just like all those,
You know this poem is
Empty.

Pretty words,
Like pretty 'vampires',
Like pretty smurf-people,
Like pretty-boys with swords,
Like pretty pictures;
Devoid of genuine meaning.

Or is this poem empty?

I suppose time will tell.
Empty things
Are lauded
By the empty-minded.

And don't you know,
Society's head is hollow?

Bleat on, sheep.
This is the best poem ever.
Sheep go 'baa', one by one.

Don't cut,
my dear.
Without blood,
how will you blush
when I hold you?

Don't hate
yourself.
You've nothing
to loathe.
Especially with
me beside you
every step of the way.

Don't pierce,
my dear.
Your heart
has taken
the arrow
too much for
the skin to
take the needle.

Don't drink,
my dear.
I'm sure
your lips
are intoxicating
without it.

Don't cry,
my dear.
I would prefer
that your eyes
were clear,
so I could give
the gazing
they are overdue.

Don't laugh,
my dear.
I may live
because of you.

It's only natural
To ignore the shy.
Only natural
To close yourself.
It's only natural
To take others'
Insults as truth.

It's only natural
To be wary.
After all,
There are monsters
Out there.
Those monsters are people.

So, I must be unnatural,
to give you attention.
I must be unnatural,
To want you open.
I must be unnatural,
To call you beautiful,
To caress your hands.

I understand.
It's only natural
To ignore my actions
Like I was never here.

Don't be fooled.
I don't woo with words.
I don't woo with actions,
Either.

No, I am too much of a novice.

My intention,
Intended,
To release these tensions
Intensified by the cloud
Of tense living.

In tensions with no spa,
No relief,
No massage,
No pedicure,
No manicure
To calm them.

Ever wondered
Who masseurs
The masseuse?
I don't wonder.
I know.

No one.

Intending
To untensify
The tender
Tendencies of
Tenacious living,
The tenders of
Untended flesh
Relieve your tensions
With no intentions
of receiving intended returns.

They take your tensions
With only intentions
To leave you intense
In the freedom of life.
Meanwhile fragile tensions
Tend to rend them,
Causing trouble and strife.

Feel relieved.
They are in tension,
Don't worry about
Giving attention.

You weren't going to anyway.

For you,
I perscribe:

One pill of
'Hold me',
Two pills of
'Kiss me',
Four milliliters of
'Love me'.

Taken daily.

Side-effects may include:

'Leave me',
'Hate me',
'Use me',
'**** me'.

If these occur,
report back to me
immediately
for
euthanasia.

Trust me,
you won't live through it.

Can I have you back?

Your windows to the soul
Opened wide.
Our arms tight around each other.

Can I have that back?

My sweet everythings.

Can I give them back?

Your sweet nothings,
Can I take them back?

Even if they were
only empty words,
I want to be fooled again.

Can you please fool me
forever,
until the day I die?

No.
That would be asking too much.

You have already turned on me,
for all the things I did.

How dare I love?

How dare I forgive?

How dare I rise above
adversity?

How dare I continue to live?

Your sweet smile,
Can I have it back?

You,
Can I have you back?

...

Of course not.

A true lover
Cannot be loved
In kind.

I must be an anomaly.

Something weird.
Some kind of creature
That no-one has seen before.

Is there any other reason
why people flock to me
but do not love?

'Isn't it odd?'
'Isn't it strange?'
'Isn't it so vile,
so disgusting,
that you can't
help but stare?'

As far as I know,
I'm still human;
But other people
always seem to know best.

These days,
I find myself reaching out.

Reaching out for love,
Reaching out for 'like'.

Reaching out for anything
That can make me feel whole.

Reaching out for
the feel of hands that caress;
creating hope,
dispelling hopelessness.

...If only for a while.

Excuse me,
Mister Optimist.
I prefer not to be called
A pessimist.
Because a realist
Realizes
His situation.
And mine is always
Very grim.

So how am I a pessimist,
For learning from the past
Of this..?

I'm sure you're all disappointed.

I am the prince charming
you grew up hearing about.
But I'm not perfect,
I'm not royal,
I'm not handsome.

I'm noble,
yes.
But nobility gets you nowhere.

I'm sure someone blew things out of proportion.

I am flawed.
I am poor.
I am ugly.

The closest I get to a royal decree,
is raising my pen or pencil in hand,
like a scepter,
in triumph of an accomplishment,
either in word or in art.

I am ugly.
I am poor.
I am flawed.
I am the prince charming
you grew up hearing about.

And I'm sure you're all disappointed.

If you could invest in me,
Would you make me more valuable?

If you brought out the best in me,
Would you make me more valuable?

If you were part of my destiny,
Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

If I held my breath for you,
Would it make me more valuable?

If I lied to make you true,
Would it make me more valuable?

If everything, I would let you do,
Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

She said I was perfect.
Then why did she leave?

She said I was perfect.
Then why did she cheat?

She said I was perfect.
Then why am I flawed?

She said I was perfect?

She said I was perfect.

Perfectly fitting to leave.
Perfectly suitable to use.
Perfectly cut to wear on your finger.

Isn't it perfect,
that imperfections are perfect?

Thank God,
The bar for perfection is so low.

Or I might be perfectly alone now.

...

I am?

Isn't that perfect?

Unlucky
i am a black cat
who has his path crossed by another

Unlucky
i walk under ladders
i had once tried to climb
just to fall back down
to where i am now

Unlucky
i look for hope
like a piece of hay
in a needlestack
and i'm stuck with all the pins

Unlucky
i look on my reflection
in the mirror of my mind
which my ugly sadness shatters

Seven Years More...
Seven Years More...

i beg for a lucky charm,
my 'lucky rabbit's foot'.

Nobody Cares
anymore.
Nobody Cares
about my feelings.

I wouldn't expect Anybody to.

Nobody Thinks
I am worth their time.
Nobody Thinks
That my words matter.
Nobody Thinks
I have a great mind.

And, Nobody Thinks
I can make anything right.
Nobody Thinks
I have a romantic bone in my body.
Nobody Thinks
I can sweep them off their feet.

Three cheers to Nobody, whoever they are.

Nobody Thinks
I can stand up for myself.
Nobody Thinks
I can stand up for my friends.
Nobody Loves
the way I sit by myself, secluded.
Nobody Loves
the way that I write my feelings,
rather than lash out in anger.

I don't love Nobody.

But, Nobody sure seems to love me.

I feel like that everyday.

Abandoned.

Like a stray.

Not that I hadn't worked.

Not that I hadn't deserved.

Not that I hadn't earned
my share of happiness.

But that people were too busy
looking to be happy
with the happy
than trying to bring happiness
to the unhappy.

Some people get more than they deserve.

Other people get less.

Love unevenly spread
can cause an unsightly mess.

I love you all,
Even if I have nothing to show for it.
I'm sorry for being trouble.

Forget Me.

I'll be gone sooner than you know.
I ask you all something,
Promises you must keep;

Forget Me,

I want you all to live,
I want you all to live a full life
Where you'll never have to weep,
And

Forget Me.

These promises, you must keep.

I will value you more than myself.
My life will be yours.
All that I do will be in consideration of you.
I will trust you till the end.
I will believe in your love.
I will do all within my power to keep us together.

These are my vows.

If I suspect anything of you,
I will reserve judgement.
If you are sorry,
I will forgive.
If you want to leave me,
No longer I will live.

These are my vows...

...

...Where are yours?

These are not
The hands they once were.
The hands that were young,
The hands that had been pierced by the thorns of a rose.

These are not
The eyes they once were.
The eyes that saw clearly.
The eyes that dimmed as the world around him became more obscure.

This is not
The mind it once was.
The mind that was innocent,
The mind that came under stress
As it fathomed the thought
That his friends had died on the front lines.

These are not
The arms they once were.
The arms that wrapped around his first love as they danced,
The arms that had fractured when a grenade detonated a meter away.

These are not
The legs they once were.
The legs that carried him on youthful energy,
And now required support to allow him to walk.

This is not
The heart it once was.
The heart that loved,
That cared for his friends,
That heart that was now slowly fading away.

This is not
The man he once was.
His life changed him.
Though you might say for the worse,
I say for the better.

We Fall.
It is what we are.
It is the Nature of us all.
And It always leaves its scars.

We Fall.
There is no other way.
We find we cannot deviate
From this life that is a play.

Written by an author
Who has no fitting name.

We Soar.
It is what we do.
What we desire in our very core
Is to become anew.

We Soar.
From that we cannot stray.
We cannot seem to run
From this life that is a play.

Written by an author
Who has no fitting name.

Persistence.
The Key to the future.
Knowledge and Strength,
Both mean nothing.

If you become paralyzed,
What will strength do?
If you are scared to the point you can't think,
What will knowledge do?

Persistence.
It knows no bounds.
Can one not be persistent enough to climb mountains?
Can one not be persistent enough to change a nation?

And
Can one not be persistent enough to alter generations?

It has rained.
Oh, for years, it has rained.
Heaven cries for the murderer.
It cries for the outcast.

I have tried and failed
To the point of nearly giving in,
But the rain reminds me.
'Press on, press on'.

The outcast longs to be needed.
The murderer longs to make up for his sins.
Oh, for years, it has rained.
It has rained.

This is not me,
This is a Mask,
And I will be the first to admit it.

This is not me,
This is a Shell,
Decorated to mislead
And Protect all that keeps me going.

The mask of a joker,
Made to entertain,
And divert their attention
From my self,
To my words.

The mask of a liar,
That says,
"I AM COMPLETE!
I have no regrets."
When I truly regret much of
That which is hidden.

Just when I thought
It was over,
You were my beginning.
Just when I thought
I was dead,
You were my revival.

Just when I thought
That I was enslaved,
You became my freedom.
Just when I thought
I'd become enchained,
You were my release.

You were my release.

Hit the release
And get to know
Me better than a joke,
Better than the dead,
Better than a slave,
Better than the chained,
Get to know me better than.