They say the pen is mighter than the sword.
In truth, it is equally as dangerous.
Words can be steel against others
Words can cut deeper than a physical wound
(Especially now that the roots of race and prejudice
and ignorance is laid bear for all to see, along with
Words are arrows
Loosed into the air and once its been fired,
you cannot take it back.
There are some who abuse words as well
Just like swords, words can start a battle
A battle of wits
When the person must have a stone heart against
what is said.
When you hold the pen, you hold a golden flower.
Though there is beauty in it, you should also be afraid
of the gold tube and black ink.
In a society like ours, where the superficial rules over
the original, one word, what you saw, what you write
Has the destiny of creating a legacy
Add further fuel to the fires of hatred
The first time I saw you
It was through a dirty window.
You were leaning against a wall
Smoking a cigarette.
A tall, cool strager totally unaware.
I couldn't help but wonder
If your lips tasted like nicotine
Or if those slight curls
Were as soft as they looked.
And I knew then I wanted you.
I wanted to scream,
"Can I be your new addiction?"
But then you put out the spark
And retreated into that green door.
You left me wanting to see so much more.
the furthest hill to the closest tree,
It mocks what the eye can see,
In capture of heart and love of place,
The perfect portrayal of her face,
Like it was there but it is gone,
But now with this it will be forever and on.
Saving what happened frozen in time,
To when the fate seals and one forgets,
The eldest painting just begins to set.
It tells of time and thought,
The memory that another caught.
The land, the people the joy the glee,
Much more horror than our eyes can see.
With a brush and paper and the world in view,
We'll be able to take away a flash or two.
Paint and people come together
A piece of past kept forever,
Let's talk about loneliness
Yes, you read it well
I'm talking about loneliness
Empty thoughts, a blackout
It's when you have lost all your feelings
You try to switch your heart on
But nothing happens
You just standing there, stargazing
The sky is more dark than ever
But still, you feel nothing
In the quiet of the night,
Where darkness steals the need for sight,
When most are asleep, I lie awake,
Waiting for the dawn to break,
Long past trying to count sheep,
My brain’s shallow, but my thoughts are deep,
My mind’s trying to put the world to rights,
But I think it might take ... several nights!
Good moods used to promise themselves to me,
convincing me things could stay that way.
That something had changed for good.
But they don't.
So I was left betrayed.
Because the of lows that follow.
Eminent and looming.
And you can never out run them.
Not with innocent denial,
or hand fulls of pills.
With every high there is a low.
Just like peaks and valleys.
And so I struggle to stand tip toed.
When I already know whats down that road.