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Another creative night
With impeccable adventure
My tongue will never tired
Lavishing on lustful words
That makes the mind unsettle
Who is this ruler of sailing seas?
A dashing yound lad
Full of energy
Daring attempts that no other
Can conquer his feats
For I am a sea worthy opponent
That no man has seen
May the ladies throw their bouquets?
To a gentleman with ocean envy

Honest Cruelty**
I talked to this kid earlier today.
He was walking down the street and I asked him where he was going, he said to Blaine, me and this kid both live about 2 cities away from Blaine, so I asked him why he was going all the way there. He said his dad ****** him off, so he was going to see his mom.
Now, I've known this kid for at least 4 years and when we first met he told me his mom died in Columbia when he was yound and he moved to America with his step-dad around age 5. Today I found out that he was lying.
His father sold him for 3 grand when he was a baby. "My pops doesn't even want me" he said. His mom left him with his step-father for years, which led him to think she was dead when she just couldn't handle the pressures of a child. "My mom doesn't either" he said. "And this ******* that has me now is pretty much a stranger who always yells and fusses and doesn't want me either"
What do you say to something like that? I don't know.. But he looked so down and so I forced him to look at me and I said "Josh, I love you. And I want you." I know it's something he needed to hear and I meant every word. He lives a few doors down from me and I know he beeded something besides a basketball. So I gave him that. It was all I could think to give him.
I just hope I did the right thing.
And I pray to God he's okay.

THE BIG CRASH AT PARK VILLE

BETWEEN A BEER TRUCK AND A TRAM YEAH AND

SLIM DUSTY’S GHOST CALLS OUT


I CAN’T HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

I CAN’T HAVE A BEER WITH KEVIN

I CAN’T HAVE A BEER WITH PATRICK

I CAN’T HAVE A BEER WITH TONY

NO THE TRUCK IS IN A CRASH

THE BEER KEGS ALL FELL OVER EVERYWHERE

LEAVES US WAITING TO HAVE BEER WITH OUR MATES

HOW CAN WE DRINK IN MODERATION

THE BEER KEGS ARE SCATTERED ALL OVER THE GROUND

WE CAN’T HAVE BERR WITH OUR MATES

CAUSE THE TRUCK HASN’T COME UP YET


I CAN’T HAVE A BEER WITH RODNEY

I CAN’T HAVE A BEER WITH DAN

CAUSE I MIGHT HAVE MENTIONED THE PARKVILLE CRASH

OH MY GOD, IT SPOILS THE PLAN FOR THE TOWNSMEN

YOU SEE HOW CAN WE DRINK IN MODERATION

WHERE THE BEER IS LOW, OH YEAH

IU CAN’T HAVE A BEER IN PARKSVILLE

CAUSE WE CRASHED INTO A TRAM

I WANT TO HAVE A BEER WITH WILLIAM

I WANT TO HAVE A BEER WITH BILL

WE DRINK IT UNDER THE TABLE

BUT THIS CRASH BRINGS A SHORTAGE YEAH

COME ON RESCUERS, PLEASE, SAVE OUR ****** BEER

I WANT TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

CAUSE, HE DESERVES IT, OH YEAH

THEN SLIM DUSTY FLIES AWAY, DON’T FORGET ME PARKSVILLE

I  MET YOU AT THE STATION

WITH ALL THE BEER HERE RATHER THAN THE PUB MY KIND SIR

WE CAN’T HAVE OUR CELEBRATION

WE DRINK THE BEER ANYWAY, IT’S HOT BUT WHO CARES, IT’S BREW

YEAH LET’S GET ****** OLD KODGERS, AND YOUND DUDES

YEAH, GET BLIND OH YEAH

Where are the angels?

A man in trouble knees to pray
God tis a question an answer thou to say
in troubles you lend me an angel everyday
yet where are the angels i have not seen them in my way

from the heaven above a voice he heard
son stand before a mirror and be not sad
times everything doth look so bad
time to see the angel that made thee glad

think of the person with you in troubles stood
think of the person in hunger who gave food
think of the person in failure said thou art good
think of the person thy heart understood

the voice from heaven in silence end
tears to the eyes the words did send
remembered he those hands that lend
his quest for angels did end

angels be yound and old
beauty or beast with love never sold
angels in life found in every end
spare a moment and they have a name called a friend

i was in the seventh grade
when i met a boy in a red shirt
whose voice sounded a lot like home,
and i remember hearing them say

"silly girl,
you're only thirteen years old,
you don't even know what love is!"

but who are they to judge
when their ancient bodies
have already forgotten
what it felt like to be yound
and electrified?

who cares if it isn't their
dictionary definition of true love,
i'd still rather be young and clueless and trembling
with my veins pumping his name
over and over again
than having to spend the rest of my life
away from the only thing
i'll ever love enough to call
home

You let me ******* die,
you *******.
Don’t you understand?
I told you I was dying
You saw it in my eyes before you left
You saw it in the bottle of pills I handed you.
You saw it in my face when you made me promise
not to do anything stupid.
I KNOW YOU SAW ME DYING.
But you left.
You ******* left and I called yound you got on twitter and talked to your friends
instead of driving the 15 minutes to save my life because
If I had died, it’d be a load off your back.
You knew that if I left
You wouldn't have to bear the things I said
the ways I hurt you that you told me never bothered you.
Did you want to deal with the guilt of my death on your hands?
I told you it wasn't your fault
but you know it is.
I am beautiful and this is your ******* fault.
You let me die and I will forever be
the ghost on your hands.

Religion serves pure purpose,
As provider of hope,
Beyond this world,
It is not truth,
Not justice alike,
It does not retain the power to condemn,
Tortured and tempered citizens,
It holds no right to govern,
The yound minded,
Or dictate the opinions of society,
It is nothing but hope,
For the fearful

John Carr was his name. He found himself on the corner of Mill and Main, a very respectable road for the area. He climbed over a rusted car eroding over time to see a gun fire to a yound woman and her baby sprawled in road. John walked to the man, their eyes still violently shaking from adrenaline. The two men prepared themselves with the smoking gun. John, defensless, undressed all he had until his bare bones carved the air. He rested his knees on the black pavement riddled with history, and prayed. John Carr’s splattered blood touched the babies’ hand.

blue eyes, I see you
peek a boh!
them clockwork programmes wind me up
I just know you will say no
to us the be yound
so sweet princes

What would you, have to know off me.

where was i ? most importantly where am i ?
i've held onto escapism to the point that i can't get back in touch with reality.
that ferocious reality that feeds on broken dreams, a ferocious reality that i can't get along with, a ferocious reality that tore me apart mentally, a ferocious reality that killed consciousness, a ferocious reality that tied everyone down with it's inhuman traditions.
i"ve always had the tendency to seek other distractions. why are the walls moving? why's everything joyfully dancing? what's happening? what's my distraction ? most importantly, what's my poison?
here i am lost, seeing everything jiggle with a belly-ache.
i can barely see, living seconds, losing pride, with a thought of unhappiness that i can't shake.
am i unconsciously losing my mind? or am i consciously trying to?
i'm not trying to, it can't be true.
dear god,you left me with The Complex Nature of this Simple Posession, four walls and a roof.
you say that you are close, is close the closest star. walls against my word, i wonder who can listen if they're just shouts into the void. it's this cruelty that i try to avoid.
somebody guide me, since this liquor took over me. i thought it would help set me free.
and forget society's careless underdevoloped mentality,
i'm locked inside my brain, i pledged to never use my mind in vain and now i don't know where i am.
this can't be my fate, i was destinate a greater glory. dear self i'm really sorry,
for what i've become.
dear cold white walls stop dancing and sob for my misery. the same misery you said it'll fade away when i'm old, and now it became a part of me that'll always stay.
when i was yound all my parents did was to prevent me, now all my dreams are gone. society did the same and i don't recall being it's son.
i can barely open my eyes, but i can observe these silhouettes of men trying to comfort me.
"HELP!!" my word against their loud phrases that i can't understand.
"open your eyes"
"OPEN THEM"
"i can't"
"YES YOU CAN!"
they're gone, i'm left now with six double edged swords forming the perfect hexagon.
is it the six cheap litres of luiquor that i drank, or the story of six years of me ruining my life.
after feeling the stab of society's blunt and rusty knife, that stayed in my heart ignoring the tears i bled.
i'm alive what a tragedy, i can take my own life away isn't that a phenomenon.life goes on and on and i'm stuck. facing this inevitable oblivion after every sip i take. realising that the oblivion i am seeking is permanent. and i'm back again with memories of this monstrous reality.

i cry, i drink then die, replacing this sorrowful truth with a happier lie.