everyone's soul
has that one space,
that one territory
where it unquestionably
undeniably
belongs.

mine is simply the stage.
nothing can stir my heart
quite like the way
the warmth of the stage lights
the scent of paint and sawdust
the rustle of velvet curtains
the rolling murmur of the audience
the firmness of the stage, tacky with masking tape
can.

i was made for the stage.
only there am i certain.
missteps? mistakes? you ask
i laugh, a private laugh.
no, i reply. improv. adaptability.
no matter if my tongue, if my foot, if my face slips
i am standing on a stage.
this is my territory.

you would do best
to not challenge
underestimate
my power
when
i
stand
on my stage.

pretty boy get off the stage
the show is over
it's been done and played
take off that mask and be yourself
and stop trying to be like everybody else
nobody is waiting for an encore
so why are you?
step out of character and be the you we all desire
why are you refusing?
because the stage is comfortable?
well, pretty boy, the world is not a stage
the world is streets and aisles where the acting doesn't count
nobody wants to be around a facade
people want genuine emotions and reactions
and the character you chose is not you

so pretty boy its time
take off the costume
and step into your own shoes
don't let how you think you need to be seen
decide how you act
go with your instinct
and pretty boy just be you

Welcome to
The theater stage,

          Where we are
          Made of dreams

Just acting out
The scenes of life,

          With laughs, and cries,
          And screams

Until the final
Curtain call,

          When we will
          Take our bow

And wonder what
‘Twas all about,

          With no one
          In the crowd...

.

The was stage set
The curtain was drawn

I took long slow steps
At center stage I stopped

The mic before me sat a silhouette
Against the blinding lights

My lips parted to speak
Silence
I spoke the words I know so well
Silence

Was my speech falling on deaf ears?

My voice rose
Silence
I leaned close to the mic
Silence

I screamed at the top of my lungs
Until my throat was raw

I stood in the center of the stage
Silent
No matter what I said
No matter how loud I was
No one was listening

I wanted to tell them
About the sadness drowning me
About the hate burning in my heart
About how hopeless I felt

I sat in the center of the stage
Silent

The stage was empty
The curtains were closed

am i stoic
for not feeling anything when in the presence of death
for not feeling anything when knowing it was his last breath
am i sick
for my heart not enduring pain
for my heart disconnecting with my brain
is it heroic
for my own body not to go through the stages
for my own body to be trapped in its plentiful cages
will it click
that he's actually gone
that i should be drawn
to it?

the curtains rise and all i can think about are the rows of faces that i know nothing about and the pressure of putting on a good show
my body moves according to muscle memory as the music starts to play

don't miss your cue
don't miss your cue
don't miss your cue

i hit each note and beat as needed, but that's just the first scene
you come up on stage once again the same time i do
and you look at me the way you were instructed to do so

don't break character
don't break character
don't break character

i deliver the lines as i'd internalized for
but little do you know i'm dying inside
we're told to look eye to eye for this one song
and i slide my fingers through the spaces between yours

don't fall in love
don't fall in love
don't fall in love

i braced myself for the last few notes of the song, but i braced myself even more for the reality that is to come once the curtains come down

i approach you offstage with every intention to tell you what i feel
but i miss my cue

i put on a strong face to show i'm not hurting
but i break character

i told myself i wouldn't let my feelings get in the way
but i fell in love

A wilting rose is slowly regaining it's strength after years with out sun or rain...

And finally it's leaves reveal their greenness of hope. It's Mistress beauty remains

For once it speaks out from it's slowly blooming petal's within. Weak and soft, sick of being haunted

I can't see myself to be something that is beautiful or worth loving or wanted...

A small grain of grass speaks into it's almost lifeless soul, waving in the wind to catch the beauty's attention.

Why can't you? Look at me! I am simply green! With thousands of others who share the same attraction!

And here you are! The jewel that stands out alone! An easy target for the eye!

And what is it I hear? A selfish complain? Your Midnight core wakes up the dead inside!

Madam of Dark Matter! Your shades of shadows break out the harmony of dreams!

You inform the creatures of this world the realness of death and how it's not what it's seems

You contain an elegance that many have labeled as wrong. You have qualities that are beautiful and rare

Should you put to shame the gift the Lord has placed in you individually?  Stop being so scared!

The thorns of her small thick body grew in a hurtful rush, tears from  yesterdays rain returning

What if my thorns of protection become a burden, What if I were to become a bush, would they stress out because my arms are reaching?

The single small piece of grass dangle with the rest of it's family in the wind, it's eyes locked on beauty in distress

Look out into the distance and you will see a family of me. There are billions of us, we were created to bless!

Though there are so many, we are never a burden, for we are the carpet of nature's foot steps.

We guide new members of the ground and dirt, We build them up to lift them from the depths.

Be in praise you have thorns! For too many are foolish not to protect them selves from danger

Stand your ground and deepen your roots. Do now allow your blossom to desire to go back into the dirt as a stranger

Everything has a purpose... everything has a time... everything has worth when it is used for the creator of our universe... Follow his words! You won't be lead astray!

These words of hope can save and change and dire helpless bud. Sadly too many of natures treasure have too quickly withered away...

The Black Rose did Blossom and bloom and reached it's leave out to the heaven's. Through it's growth it produce more life.

It became protection to those who were too weak, It became a symbol of true love, and became the proof that faith is a guide

Not all stories end so happily and glorious... that's why WE must spread out the message of hope like plants spread their seeds!

Before... like the strand of grass, we surrender to the ground... for everything has it's time to fade... Death is a need

The closeness of loyalty will stick by you, like the roots of a rose, it will be with you until your final days, and last breath

Good Bye... My sweet dew grass friend... The God of Creation has used you and you have completed your task... please... welcome your death!

You will finally gain your reward... For you have been used to pull me out of my darkest stage in life... and I thank our Creator for his provision!

But now that your gone... I too shall be used to awaken others from their dream, and bring them out from their stage... of depression...and fear...and *SIN

Who knows how far we will go
bit by bit we are changing on

The people are blanked in knowledge
going through the stages of ages

Blessed with education
but don't know the manner of devotion

Some are more educated
doesn't accept other statement

Nature laughs seismic
saying "How unacceptable you are"

Taste the fatal disasters
or save the discovered masterpiece

Wake up, wake up till the morning hours
or sleep till the departed flowers