Lost,

in quiet reverie.

Lost,

in thoughts of you.

Lost,

the days of  innocents,

before we knew the truth.



You promised it would change one day.

The spike no longer needed.

Entitled by the things you stole

****'s fuzzy way of reason.



You stole from family, stole from friends

whoever you encountered.

To keep the poison in your veins

was all that ever mattered.



Though beatings, bullets, jail time

you never missed a beat.

Whenever she was singing

the needles call was sweet.



There is no moral to this tale

A families loss comes quickly

an officers knock upon the door

And final rights are given.

I dream of the Sea, where the sun lightly shines; and the shores are kissed with the ruddle-and-hush of Sea's salty waves.
Above the flowered dune, the gulls squawk at the boy who is offering them bread.
There's a mischievous grin on his face, as he teases the gulls who swoop to meet his outstretched hands.
And I smile!

Yes, I have scars.
They're part of who I am.
I didn't see them comming.
but earned them all the same.
They're not always appearent.
Some are hidden, some are not.
But trust me, "I still feel them"
with every passing storm.
The scars I have inside me
by far haunt me the worst.
They keep my heart from your heart
a cowards shield and curse.