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He wears his smile in his pocket.
Where no one else can see.
And since none have seen him happy
They’re convinced he’ll never be.

His laughter’s in a fist.
So tight, no one can hear.
With no joy in his voice at all,
They’re sure he’s filled with fear.

All they see is torment.
They don’t look for what he was.
All they see is torment.
Nobody ever does.
All they see is torment.
They’re not sure what the cause.
All they see is torment,
And all his other flaws.

The world’s so filled with judgment.
It won’t stop to find the good.
But when time is so ****** precious,
It’s a mystery why it should.

All they see is torment.
His soul’s as dark as night.
All they see is torment.
They can’t see his plight.
All they see is torment.
All ignore the fight.
All they see is torment.
He can never set things right.
Looking on the horizon of writing a sequel to the first novel in my Death Metal series, "Curtain Call," I figured I'd start sharing a few of the poems/lyrics (take your pick) that I'd created as songs that the fictional, mostly non-human heavy metal band performed. The songs were, surprisingly enough, the hardest part of writing "Curtain Call" (which only took me 8 weeks to write ~ 2 of which represented the songs alone). In 2013, the novel was the only to win TWO separate awards in an annual book blog competition, earning both Best Paranormal Thriller Novel as well as Best Occult Novel of that year.

Here's hoping the sequel does half as well  lol

Given the rising issue with bullying and abuse, I feel like this particular song/poem (though written a few years prior to the issue) is applicable all the same.
 Aug 2014 Savanna Thompson
Styles
Beautiful - is her.
Can't explain, or compare; her beauty.
These words, this world lacks.
For her,
my passion,
Burns fire.
With desire,
My heart attacks.
As our opposites,
will attract.
Just in time
Too react;
Two eyes,
Making contact.
Bright-eyes,
Meet their match
Love at first sight,
I just sigh,
as I imagine that.
Please don't get me wrong.
I appreciate what you are trying to do,
but you don't send salt and pepper to a starving nation.
I've been dealing with assault of the mind
and inflammation of the soul
in a way no whole-wheat diet or
heartburn medication could ever fix.
I've got all these little tips
and all these little tricks
for how to fold anger up like an origami crane
until it looks somewhat like a punchline.
The flaw in the design of this art
is that no matter how many were made
they couldn't cure Sadako's leukemia.

Perhaps it's an ongoing theme in my work
to shirk all these lies I've been told.
To mold the past into a weapon
to harpoon the future with like a humpback whale.
But I've watched razors sail
across the surface of my skin like a hundred tiny boats
and while I'm making my way in this sink-or-float Earth,
I still have the spirituality
to make a penny feel like more than what it's worth.

I can't make your life having meaning.
I can't give you the feeling you get
on that 999th paper crane,
but I spend my whole life trying to catch
thunder in a wine bottle.
It's just a noise,
and it exists only ringing in the ears
of frightened children
and bringing the tears of overjoyed children
in Africa.
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

— The End —