If I ask you what you think about who's in charge,
You say it's not my need to question,
To so quickly be the opposition of the one who
Fed us, clothed us, kept our home clean,
As well as kept locks on everything we'll need
In life to truly succeed. It's not to question.
When I ask you what you think of the score,
You say: "The fault lies in your hands, you are
The punk, (the riff-raff) the failure, the defeatist,"
The bold way men always do things, "*** 'er done!"
That's how it's meant to be, like a Ford commercial,
That and big tires, big guns, big on war, (big on
Everyone falling in line to be what society wants)
Very low on counter-destruction, love, solutions,
Being the key to our problems, communications,
On a small note doesn't seem to save anyone,
Can not solve any threat, and can't solve terrorism,
Hate, misery, and loneliness. From a long view, the "big"
Answer you give me, I still must confess, I disagree,
And big daddy tells us we can make change, in a world
Full of musty traditionalism, societies duality, he makes sure that
"Anyone can see" it's "always been possible for you and me."

“Boys will be boys,”
The bully’s parents said.
All that talk of discipline
Went over their heads.

The older boys at school
Gathered around the kid
With the glasses on his face;
Knocked them off his head.
Their words questioning
His manhood and his folks
And nobody paid attention
To the nature of the jokes.

“Boys will be boys,”
The principal said.
He washed his hands
Now one boy is dead.

They waited in an alley
Until the boy walked by
A place they knew for sure
No one would hear him cry.
They each one ***** him
Then one guy had a knife
After he killed the boy
He called him a lousy wife.

“Boys will be boys,”
The police officer said
Then used his baton
On the black kid’s head.

A black kid found the body
Of the white kid in the mud.
He brought the local cop, who
Thought him from the hood.
He beat up on the black kid
And took him to the jail.
Nobody knew about him, so
Nobody made his bail.


“Boys will be boys,”
The juvenile judge said
He closed the case
Went golfing instead.

There were no forensics,
No witnesses were sought.
No evidence of quality
Was asked for or brought.
The system had its criminal
And quickly put him away
And that’s where he is living
Until this very day.

“Boys will be boys,”
Never really worked
It only ever pointed out
That the speaker was a ****.

He said she was special...
He told her she was pretty too.
He wants to let go,
Of history and start anew.

But she can't see,
Through his screen,
Into his life,
And his thoughts unseen.

She was naive,
Young, and stupid,
Didn't understand,
The concept of grooming.

Now she has no trust,
In others or herself,
Because of that one man,
**Feeding off her health.

Young people have yet to learn and
adults have learnt enough.
But, do we ever stop learning? when
the Earth changes face at every turn?

What is the difference
between a child shmushing mushy peas into his giddy cheeks
and a businessman *** husband *** father *** success
drinking, driving, sweating and snorting.
A lady friend is unimpressed;
she scolds him for the mess he’s made
on her lovely red dress.

I got to say these things that were eating away at my soul like the birds,
Birds that happen to look a whole lot like crows,
who only ever go after the dead decaying prays,
because when it's dead, it's easiest to ****** away.

But I spoke line after line like the little white lines that lie in long lines,
on the highways where the dead bodies have been laid out to dry,
I was not going to give into your games let alone cry,
but if I must shed some tears to tell all the fears you have put on me,
then my eye will bleed red,
and never dry out,

And for me to pour my heart out onto you,
is as evil as the crow you are,
while you plot where you're going to pick me apart first when I finish,
but like the crows and the dead carcase I am,
we all have rights,
but like the bandages that can't stick around to fix my wounds,
im sorry,
A thing I've been more often than sometimes,
so its hard to fill in the bubbles of how someone hurts,
when the scales seem to add up in the favor of the other hand.

But that still gives me no right to act and do the things you do,
and play dress up in rooten old skin,
like you have set the example for me,
to lie to those who stared death in the face and went on as before,
but before they were nothing and after there still wasn't something,
and you checked the boxes under the bubbles.
securing they would be fine.

when in reality they were fine like you said,
if you compared their mental status to that of yours.
who let someone roam around like a dead corps.
as the crows above circled and waited,
mocking,
taunting,
waiting for the innocence of an infant to mess up.
so they could finally strike.

I get it's only human nature,
Just like the circle of life,
*But why do people have to keep neglecting children,
until those vultures finally strike.

Pleasure of the pain
I moan
pleasure under your hands
Rough hands that grip my neck
Fingers slipping down my side
My side onto my thighs
Between my thighs, I bite my lip
You hear me breath
My breath is taken
You grab my hair
"Don't make a sound"
inside me
Your fingers long,
"You're ready for me"
Deep breaths I take
Deep breaths as you enter me
Deep breaths as you force me over
Harder, deeper, rougher
Deep breaths because I want it
The way you're giving it to me
The way you make me take it
I gasp, your hand around my throat
Again, I gasp....
I moan, feeling every inch
Slow breaths, I touch your wrist
To feel your strength
To feel your hand so tight
To hear you whisper,
"You belong to me"

They all say I'm "too young"

to experience the hardships

of life.

But how then,

would they know,

if they hadn't felt the same way


Themselves...?