There once was a boy with the thought
a girl too meek to have fought
So despite her plea
he just took for free
What a gentleman ought to have bought

There once was a girl with a bowl
Which hadn’t in years felt full
Though less it may weigh
Heavier it lay
In her hands and on her soul

An old man came to rest by their side
Long after his poor dreams had died
For him there were tears
But reverse forty years--
For his dreams, only he cried.

There once was a magical mythical nation
Who felt threatened by half of its population
So they shot them all
And sounded the call
For a ******* national celebration



And there once was a shield named Cynicism
Who sought strength in criticism
While it suffers each day
Bitter decay
It won’t be let down like idealism

Beauty is draining from the world at an alarming rate...

Nothing means anything anymore.

*** is just a past time and not an expression of anything, trust or otherwise.

Words mean little, often biting and cruel

Society has grown jaded and water is thicker than blood.

Family keep secrets and speak not to each other, but to the masks each has created.

Friends are not true and often hard to find....

Loneliness is an epidemic, and no one cares enough to find the cure.

I think there is something wrong with me
for I cannot love as deliciously
or deeply as I used to.
I cannot be swallowed by the hope of
unconfirmed fictions I once called love.

There is a still an inkling of
fierceness that wants to clench someone
so tightly to my body that we become one
wet with the desire of perpetual ****** motions.

I am broken for the shadow kin still sleeps within,
longing to uncover soft warm pale skin underneath
her ******* lacey dress, and thin white sheets.
I still long to let my fingers swirl,
submerged in a wetness of that beautiful girl
gyrating as our tongues vibrate with
the sweet sexiness of her pink part lips.

I am broken because I would let her
harness me, riding to find whatever she needs,
bending my tongue to taste
sweet strawberry juices from below her waist.

But that will never be.
I am broken because I no longer believe
there is anything less then
masturbatory fantasies
left for me.

I do not trust a happy day
My mind recalls past patterns
And each time hope has come my way
Peeking past life’s parted veil
Singing songs of sweet tomorrows
The weeks that come are always hell
As are the all the years that follow

I do not trust a lover’s promise
For they can be given so easily
I have seen certain hearts shattered
When loving to carefree and happily
I know one cannot pledge eternity
Anything can be broken even the best family

I do not trust a possessor’s passion
Cause in pursuing owner’s pleasures
I have found all things are only passing
For the taking, to give, in the asking
We all tire of the new toy
Sweet things can rot away
Adding one more item to your pile
Won’t save you from your final fate

There is a far darker day ******* me
The shadows tight on my trail
Night will fall sooner than expected
So even when I smile, I do not trust myself
Moods will change, ebbing and flowing
With the winds that keep my armor
Flapping up and down so my scars are showing

The good is just a phase
Then again I could say the same thing
About the bad days coming
Neither are permanent
Only one thing is inevitable

Life seems pretty
Plain with
Their faces so dull,
Arms so
Weak, the
Weight
Of the world
So heavy.

Suppose that it
Does get
Brighter beyond these
Black horizons and
Opaque words of
The mad.

Where will we be
Once the
Weight of
The world crumbles
Beneath
Mounds of
Saline tears and
Ashen hearts?

Bite my lips untill they bleed
Because I don't want to say a word
Pass the moment like a frayed lie
As we sit here staring into the abyss
Your eyes like glass and sand
Telling me the time is running out
Shut up, Don't you speak
I know you want to go away
And fade like wispy mentions
But tonight will last as long as your gaze
And I feel you cold like ice
Again a dead end turn around
Shes burying her own hatchet
Shes burying evidence of traitors
I feel cold and you have no warmth
So the night dies slowly with my hopes
And hope dies with your last words
Its over, ive lost my grasp on you
I've lost it because I gave it all to you

Forever a dream she dreams with no end in sight. No way to jump off this merry go round of cyclical delight.

She feels the rush of freedom, the weight of freedom, she settles for the longing of freedom.

She feels it brush against her skin riding the wind through her hair. It pulls her out of her head, releasing caution to the wind. If this drug were to end her, would anyone care?