Old radio occupies
desolated shop, unmoved
When it opens, transmission
change from time to time, untamed
Fuzzy haze filled the airwaves
I still listen to its sounds

Buzz, it says where have you been
Buzz, it replied from business
A short break from the DJ
Here comes Gymnopedie 1
I played the keyboard, you're right
Buzz, to another channel
Conversation between me
and unnamed friend as we dive
Into the vastness of the
universe. "We're not alone,"
I started, looking above.
"We are just a grain of sand."
"But where is everybody?"
Pondered he, puffing smoke in
the stillness of pitch darkness.
I nodded, "maybe because
Advanced civilizations
sought to isolate themselves."

White noise swallowed the broadcast
I am here again sitting
in the cobweb-covered shop
Blur faces from the window
Cars intersect, then part ways
My body yearns for repose
They say sleep rest our psyche
But I know my wire so well
Sleep does not rest my psyche
My frequency pilgrimage
Across the land, sea to sea
I can hear the radio
Constantly, halted to flee
An unfamiliar station
entered the box of audio
At full volume, I'm all ears.

They call you judgmental yet frown upon you when you are not exactly like them
They try to pick apart any possible reason for an action you take, a mistake that you make
Then boil it down to their own perfect little answer
Their expectations they hold for others can be grueling with how many hurricanes run through your head, though they claim not to ask for much
To act as if they can see right through you can sometimes be their favorite way to pass time, though  of course they don’t know half of it
The strong vibes of arrogance and judging glances they shoot behind your back are enough to suffocate you, but you choose to hold it together with a smile
Until the weakness returns, where you break down and shake
You try to place words together in your mouth, your poems, in your eyes, your soul, anything.. but the largest part of you screaming out remains silent
To expect to be fully understood by another is foolish  
For their selfishness and their narrow way of thinking are evidently highly prominent
And far too many complications are forever involved
The attempts to silent your mind  unfortunately prove to be futile
A cigarette, one drink after the other take away the gnawing pain that will eternally make its presence known
Moments of happiness turn dark as ash ever so quickly
To laugh at oneself, to lose one’s mind is hauntingly easy enough
In a world where no one truly knows your name.

I'm  worried because I have no worries
I'm afraid cuz
I have no fears
I spin in circles
cuz I never get nowhere
when I wake up
I'm still sleeping
I'm so ugly
I'm in the hall of fame
and for that I feel no shame
I met the real me and then
she ran away

Until an old photo comes across your eyes, you will never cherish the little pieces of time that pass you by.

To experience is beauty, To live is just a waste.

My mind is full of feelings. My heart is full of feelings. There is no logic to me.

I am art. I was designed by an artist. I was first crafted in the womb. My thoughts are put on paper and become art too.

Life is art. We create moments and memories. Our art is often a photograph.

Feelings are art.

The way you decorate your home is art.

Singing the song you love is art.

We are all artists. After all, we were designed by an artist.

Here, have a dime,
My two cents by Five:
You're not that sublime
When it comes to being alive.

You slam some door and claim your might;
Not impressed by how you've dared
To shut the doors and scream to fight;
You're the kid that's truly scared

Of all the things you can't control,
All the things you'll never know;
Not fear nor anger will fill that hole;
Even roots must break dirt to grow.

You're stuffed in far too small a space;
Cramped wings find no room to fly;
Sometimes I wish you'd have the grace
To just let go and simply cry.

So much lost in the fear of being wrong;
A self-fulfilling prophecy in every song, when in point of fact:
There's more to life than being strong;
Your inner child's got a cataract.

You're the match that sets yourself aflame,
Because somedays you still need to feel;
Anything less would be far too tame
In this search for something real.

All I know of timeless wealth
Is how to give a loving hand;
We have to be the one to see ourself, but
By your side I Truly stand.

To speak of what's true:
If every fear is just projection
Then if I am to question you
Surely I speak to my own reflection.