I know Im fake but I wish I was real.
                      I try to do things right...
                      But Im so surreal.
                      Its not my fault that societies a living hell hole.
                      Freedom was something sin and temptations stole.
                      I know Im fake and sick inside,
                      but I can be good if I really try...
                      So before you say mean things about me
                     And tell me my sanity has died,
                      look in the mirror
                      And ask yourself,
                    "Am I real or Im a fake inside?"

It's so hard to be
                                             happy when
                                              everything is                  
                                             going wrong.
            Its so hard to be forgiving when others can't forgive you.      
            "Smile!" They say. How can I smile when everything
              is broken in two? Im so afraid of what will possibly
                                              happen to me,
                                               And all I can
                                              do is be empty
                                                 and sad...
                                                 For I know
                                                 that someday
                                                 I will be finally
                                                 With true love
                                                  In a place called
                                                  Heaven up above... ✞

Thanksgiving day.
One we truly can not forget.
With the thin air of winter coming through,
The mist cold and wet.
The candles burn bright,
As we dig into this neat feast.
Our faces stuffed up,
Until we can not eat.
We are thankful for everything that would take too long,
Just to say.
Oh we are thankful for it all,
On Thanksgiving day.

The pencil illustrated
   Across graceful Paris
        Despite paper developed
                    A fire grew

A little boy stand there,
withering away in grief.
It wasn't his fault.
He didn't know,
That it was here time...
Her time to go.
Will the boy ever love?
Will he ever see the sun again?
On a dark day like this,
There was no sun.
No light,
Only darkness,
And the cold reminder of the sound of a gun.
There was no way of stoping it,
For the bullet was too strong.
Yet,
The boy still griefs over what can not be undone.

Black.
Black is like the shadow spread across the vicious bed monster face,
Leaving the little girl in chills before she disappeared without a trace.
Black is like the dark old attic the the little girl feared,
Still,
She entered it,
Not knowing the end was near.
Black as the darkness that pieced through her room,
When a witch carried away the little ******* her broom.
Halloween night.
Don't we all love the fright,
Of seeing ghost and ghouls all throughout the night.

Pain,
It never gets old.
It keeps on going,
Traveling throughout this world uncontrolled.
Finding it's happy place,
For it's next victim to mock until they get old.
We never get used to it,
It hurts us,
Every bit.
When someone warns you they'll go missing,
And you now know they weren't kidding.
And finally we're reminded of how much this world is dead.
Pain,
The word that hurts to say,
Pain,
Surrounding us like a mold of clay.
And one day we'll leave,
This creation full of suffering,
And we'll be with God in a new world,
Unchained by pain.