You know what I hate?
all of this romantic over dramatic gush,
I mean come on people I just ate.
There you are smooching and touching,
running your fingers through her hair,
and later tonight you'll probably be *******..
Now don't get me wrong I have a girl,
and yeah she's kinda great..
and makes my world turn..
And the way her hair falls on her face
I just can't take it
it makes my heart race
and by the time i get home after being with her
and I'm alone in the dark
and my vision starts to blur
i think of the boy and girl and the touching,
the hugging the kissing
the feeling the *******
and i just can't help but
maybe realizing that maybe this romance thing isn't that,
frightening..
Maybe that love is actually enticing,
not something to hate but something
delighting..
So as I sit here alone in the dark,
it's twisting tendrils lulling me to sleep,
i think of her and I in a park,
hugging and kissing,
just her and me.

sixty four days ago I met this person,
she talked about how her world was stained glass,
constantly changing colors splits by streaks of grey,
like her emotions changing with oh so little class.
You see this person has social anxiety
she told me that the reason she ran outside when it rained
was so the water droplets could keep her company
those little spherical drops mixing with the tears from her eyes
so that if a passerby would happen to see her there
they’d think the water on her skin was merely the water from the sky.
forty four days ago I kissed this person
she warned me about the terrors that would come,
I told her that I’d stand against those demons
like Finn stands against Ice Kings ice rays
That I’d take her sorrows wrap them up in newspaper
tape it closed, kiss it,
and send them on a first class boat cruise to the land of disappear.
twenty four days ago she said that she loved me,
she told me she felt her stained glass was clearing,
that she hadn’t felt this safe in many phases of the moon,
and she told me that I kept on being surprising.
four days ago she called me crying,
said her world was crumbling like a sandcastle fighting high-tide,
that her mind was slipping into the rabbit hole
and the cheshire cat had plenty of holes in which for him to hide
she reminded me that she has social anxiety
yesterday it rained,
and I ran outside with her to keep her company

How does someone burn down walls?
Walls set up to protect from false love calls?
Walls I’ve made thick and jagged,
So I wouldn’t be the only one left torn and ragged,
With Eskimo kisses,
Shy smirks,
Sneaking glances,
Wandering fingers,
A hug that lingers,
Stomach dragons,
A heart lifting laugh,
A smile in passing,
My walls start to incinerate,
Making all my worries out of date,
The pains of my past seem to melt away,
And are replace by a single word towards you..
Stay.
Because the look from your eyes collide with the words from your mouth,
That react in a spark that i thought had permanently gone out.
How does one burn down walls?
Making me feel like they were never there at all..
It seems like you have learned the art,
Because you’ve burnt down my walls,
With your love sparks.

When people hear Smith they don’t see the real meaning,

They see a old English conqueror with armor gleaming,

or even a tall black man with dice in the mirror,

but what Smith really means, is you’re a creator.

To smith means to build, to create and stabilize,

like castle walls scaling miles high,

And I mean I follow my surnames meaning,

but.. it’s kind of a different wall I’m creating.

It’s still made of bricks, mortar and sweat,

but let me get into the details a little bit.

The Bricks;

The bricks are made up of all the lies you told me that night,

that smile, and kiss that you told me would set things right,

when really all it did was feel like a poisonous bite,

that spread like a cancer and clouded my sight,

until everything in the world saw me through a curtain of spite.

The Mortar;

the scars on my skin

The Sweat;

The sweat is the tears that sunk in,

the tears from hiding in my room thinking my friends were just ghosts,

and that no one would ever say I Love You the most.

I became the best smith the world had ever known,

seeing how no one noticed how high my walls had grown,

because even though they were jagged and fierce,

they were hidden by a beauty that no eye could pierce.

So now the smith sits behind his wall in full armor,

wondering if anyone ever will conquer,

or burn down these walls and tear them asunder,

who knew the true meaning of Smith..

would be such a blunder.

When I was little I was raised in Fantasy,
the works of Tolkien and Lewis swam all around me,
Dragons were just over the next hill,
orcs ready and waiting to ****,
I dug up my moms garden to find a gnome.
but since gnomes are ridiculous i replaced it with little fairy homes.
my mom came out upset not because of the flower masacre
but because I built those houses without including her.
So needless to say I believed in magic,
i even tried to learn some cards tricks,
but seeing how at the time i was as smooth as a jackhammer
lets just saying card magic was never something i mastered.
But wishes, to wish was a magic that i had learned much about,
for every night me and my mother would go out,
right as the moon kissed the horizon,
my mom saying keep your eyes open son,
for whom so ever see’s that first star,
will truly know what wishes are.
But you see, wishes are tricky
they can’t be to much and you can’t be to picky,
and heaven forbid you tell someone
cause welp, you’ve just gone and ruined all the fun.
But uh.. years pass by and life happened,
and I realized fantasy is kind of for mad men,
cause who could be worried about dragons,
when there’s a 6 foot bully bashing your head in,
when the orcs turn into men with guns,
you don’t think of anything.. but run.
And i realized that digging up a gnome,
is nothing compared to burying the nicest person you’ve ever known.
So needless to say, I forgot about magic.
hung my hat on the peg and realized my magic wand was just a stick,
The last wish i made was for my friend to come home,
He’s still in the ground 8 years later..
I never told anyone that wish..
Even more years pass, and I realize something.
Just because real life can get hard, that doesn’t mean that i need to stop fantasizing.
So now as I walk to class 8 years later I see a fairy dash behind a leaf,
I see the footprints of a goblin as it sneaks,
And it seems as if I’ve made a full recovery,
as if the troubles of my past no longer bother me,
And it’s true! …for the most part
I still don’t make wishes..
or well.. used to not.
Cause something happened that made me believe,
see this funny little girl came up to me,
she doesn’t really wear pants and doesn’t own a real pair of shoes,
but there was something in her eyes that just.. i couldn’t.. i can’t… words..
Now this girl, she makes a wish every 11:11,
something I hadn’t done since my friend went to heaven,
and so when she asked me what i wished for I always said nothing,
cause I couldn’t make myself wish for something that wasn’t coming,
but this girl, and her eyes, i needed help from something,
So that night as the moon rised in the sky i was running,
cause i had this feeling in my chest and my blood was pumping,
So as the stars kissed the sky I… I gave in.
I gathered my fairies, rounded up the hobbits, and called the dragons,
And since i know that telling a wish doesn’t make it not come true
I’ll tell you tonight,
I wished for you.

He watched the train,
And as it passed,
His voice did strain,
An anguished rasp,
Don’t **** up,
Don’t take too long,
Learn this lick,
Sing this song,
Always demanding,
He can’t focus,
Always reprimanding,
Always for us,
Never for him.
For him to be,
Locked in lovestruck eternity,
You think itd be easy,
Voice of an angel,
Eyes like the sea,
But really he’s mangled,
Mange and rabid,
Like always calling someone else captain,
Always listening always sitting,
Do this, do that it’s never ending,
What if he just wants to **** for once,
Make it up as he goes and find that one,
But no, no that cannot be he’s got a plan, he’s got a scheme.
Find that one, be with her, have a blast, go to Ireland, settle down, have a kid, show this ****** up world what it means to be in love.
That’s his scheme, to prove disaster wrong, make divorce a myth and sing a duet song.
But first he must toil,
Sweat and bleed,
Like he’s lost and cannot breathe,
Cause in this world you have a choice,
Be like them, or have a voice.
It’s not always easy,
Scratch that it’s never ******* easy,
But in the end it’s down to you.
Yes this turned from poem I rant,
But I really won’t listen I just.. Can’t,
Because I’m tired of having to make a choice, to hurt someone for someone else and to choose between happiness one or happiness two. Cause maybe they’d both end fantastic, maybe they’d both be catastrophic, but in the end I don’t ******* know,
But hey I hope you enjoy the show.

The boy with the heart winning smile,


He’s always asked to stay a while,


Girls love his laugh and guys like his smirk,


But what they don’t know?


Is it’s so much work.. 


He smiles so he won’t talk 
He smiles so they won’t analyze his walk,


A walk that is limping and numb,


From the forenight’s rigors he had done.


To himself so he could actually feel something,


Cause I mean pain and love it’s the same..Right?


But so he smiles,

he smiles so he keeps the persona of a magnificent confident boy,


When all he truly feels like is someone’s little toy, 


Because you tell them that he mangled your emotions,


When really you were the one who gave him the false love potion.


Treating him like he was never going to disappear,


Like he was your little knight carrying your burdening spear,


But then when he finally drops your ploy,


And stops being yours obedient little toy,


All of a sudden he’s the monster,


The one who tore YOUR heart asunder.


And that’s what he grows to believe,


Seeing how he’s stills naive,


So he puts himself back in his armor,


Clamps the latches tight and closes the visor,


Because he doesn’t want that to happen again,


He’s already face pain greater then some men,


And the only thing he’s ever held dear,


Was the hope that one day,

someone would hear. 


Hear the pains through his winning smile,


Notice his walk is a little misguiled,


The hope that someone would tear off his armor,


Lift his visor, 
And say,
 N’ayez pas peur mon amour


But.. Who would go through that trial?


For the boy asked to stay.. Just a while,


Who will fix the boy, 
With the hear splitting smile?