The homeless ask for change
Not only the spare pence pieces you have in your pocket,
But the change that can make them sheltered and warm.

The buskers ask for change
Not only compensation for their musical vibes
But the kind of coinage for a different kind of awareness
Atmospheric positive energy
And peace

The travelers ask for change
Aid their way through the world to gain a bit more perspective
So they may prove others wrong when making horrendous generalisations
Or to see everything with better lenses

The activists ask for change
Breaking through social etiquette
Politeness is overruled by injustice
They take the streets their own suggestions
Vocal with rage…

The man in the suit doesn’t want your change
He wants your notes
Hard earned money from your wallet to feed his own
Grown grotesquely fat with gluttony
He wants your sense of self worth blinded with what he envisions
Making incisions into your mind
Of how you should act
And why you should cry.
Forget what’s inside.
Become a player on the stage of the world and fail to remember that you’re just another teenage girl too impressionable to hide
Rather then see you thrive he wants profit
Leaving you high and dry
Thirsty for nothing you can actually buy.

I ask for change.
I ask for the power to transform within me
To give the change all these people are asking of me.
Maybe I’ve not got the money,
But I can empty myself with all I have
And see if it makes a difference…

Kiss the man in the suit goodbye.

You mourn the vibrant innocence of youth,
to temper the bitter wisdom life has wrought;

but I would have you as you are,
for these tired eyes see what a child could not:

though I can't erase your scars
I can kiss them til you can't see the difference.

Ever wondered why
some people are happier than others?
Are they doing things differently
or are things different for them?

Is it hard-work or sheer luck,
what makes the difference,
have you ever thought?

Some die struggling,
for all that's fair and theirs.
And yet luck favors
them who hardly care.

That's the difference,
despite all that's said and done,
as one dies in the warmth of love,
other dies stone cold.

She tells you there is a hurricane inside my head
And how my pupil is not the eye of the storm

Agitation creeps underneath the layers of my skin
She is sure that I am trouble (or troubled)

Obviously, I am a thief in the night
I am stealing you away, after all

And she explains to your sister that I am the wolf in sheepskin
Just waiting to devour

I tell her I don’t understand what it is I did wrong
She tells me to exam myself once more and recalculate all my flaws

Hello to
Hell

A simple hello
Can lead you to hell

Good to
Goodbye

All good things
Eventually leave

Word to
World

A kind word
Can give you the world

Simple changes
Make all the difference
In the world

My voice,
It cannot be silenced
I will write,
I will sing,
I will do anything to set me apart
From what I'm "Supposed to be"
Because normal is boring.
I don't want to be,
I refuse to be another face in the crowd,
I want to touch people with my actions,
With my words.
When I die
I don't want to be 6 feet under ground
With a face nobody will remember
And no difference made.

People are like flowers.
                                                        ­              He
Some have more petals.
                                                         ­            Just
Some less.
                                                           ­     Found
Some live longer.
                                                         ­           That
Some don't.
                                                          ­        Other
It may be nature withering it away.
                                                           ­      World.
Or it could be a sudden fatal storm.