I don't write uplifting words
my poems are  stones I throw at the soaring birds
Because I'm jealous
Yearning to get that high and it makes me rebellious
All I want is a friend
But y'all just pretend
I invite you to a home
Love you just like kin
And what do I get in return
A back stab and a burn
But just wait
Just wait  youll get yo turn
Think one day you'll learn
That what you get is what you earn
What you dish
Is what you fish
What you leave
Is what you receive
Then one day we can try again
You can try to accompany me

Grandad did you used to skim stones
off the pond? Yes the very same one.
We had a champion. His
went right across the other bank.

In life, he hit a log and sank.
Eric nestled in the tall grass.
James made waves and moved on, but Tom
reached the other side and slowly dried.

And Grandad, what about you? Well,
I'm still here aren't I, hoping to
be skimming stones with you, til your
son comes along and I dry up too.

The Power's that be
Are laughing at me
They've stacked the deck
To them I'm a speck
Like a kid with an ant
They can't hear my rant
Not that they care
They're not interested in fair
They drop their stones
To hear my moans
Oh look there's the light
Wait, **** it's to bright
They flood my life
With worry and strife
There's no reason or rhyme
It'll change on a dime
They are not very sane
their attention will wane
They will soon let me be
By stepping on me

Stories and stones,
Of broken bones.
Dare one as I not to repeat,
Though broken bones,
By throwing stones.
Can make one's mind be incomplete,
By their understanding,
Or their commanding.
Of lies told through their teeth,
By the end of their lies.
Under their dark disguise,
Only the monsters remain underneath.

If there's a wall around the heart of somebody, be careful by using words.

Every good one will break down one stone.

But every bad one will create two new.

This is our secret garden
Our place of growth
Where our secrets are hidden
Beneath heavy stones
This is the path of the chosen
It couldn't be changed
If it was any different
We wouldn't be the same

-Gloraeanna

If this was a poem,
Would you read it?

And if this was a song,
Would you sing it?

And if this was a paper map showing you how to get to Rancho Cucamonga, California,
Would you be inspired by it?

Or just put your joint down already?

it's been 43 days
since we last talked.
the worst thing is:
you still don't care.

it's been 43 days
of throwing stones
and the pain
I cannot bear.

it's been 43 days
of suffocating;
without you,
there's no air.

nothing matters
to me anymore
besides the fact that
you're not there.

It doesn't matter what I write
This all lives inside me still
Waiting around to strike

I think I've lost before I start
I think I've failed before I've tried
I think it's over before it could ever begin
I am my own worst nightmare

The music I've held so dear to my soul
Should shed light on what I feel
Do you give it a chance
Do you give me a chance
Before you cast you stones and cast your judgements on me

I think I'm fat when I starve
I think I'm ***** when I'm clean
I think that, I'm sure that you could never want me
I am my own misery

The fires I'm watching, so close in sight
Could burn even our sun
Could you come closer, ***
Oh, will you stay with me
This time I meant everything I said, I promise

I think that I'm worthless
I think I'm a prize
I think that I'm clueless
I think that I'm bright
I live in the darkness
But I hold the light
I could get out but there's nothing for me
At least in the cold I have myself

Words are harmless, so they say,
That's where the problem starts;
Sticks and stones
May break our bones
But words will break our hearts.



Words are harmless, so they say,
And point you to their charts;
It's harmless fun,
No damage done.
But... Who will mend our hearts?



The x-rays show no damage
Where words have scathed across,
But it still feels hard to manage,
And leaves you at a loss.



Words are harmless, don't complain,
That's where the problem starts.
It's quite absurd-
A single word-
Enough to break our hearts!



But words are harmless, they maintain;
The subject of their parts,
No less or more,
So let them pour
From all our broken hearts