I smile at people for no reason.
Just simply trying to be nice.
I've done it a million times.
But when i first saw you, my heart smiled for me.
With love there is a price to pay
and for you i'm willing to go into debt.
I've searched everywhere for the definition of perfection.
I believe i found it in your eyes.
I've never seen something so beautiful.
It's not my fault i love you, it's yours.

Foolish men.
You trust all that is around you,
you rely on the deceit, the deception,
like it is worth dying for.
You foolish men.
You’ve gotten so good at lying
that you can’t even tell the difference,
between your truths,
from your hollow lies.

I once believed that I can live happily ever after,
just as I’d watched in the movies.
I thought that I can have powers, cast spells,
and travel to a time before my own existence.

I once believed that,
I can fly on broomsticks, that I can make objects move with my mind.
I believed that I should just leave my cares behind,
that I should run away,
instead of facing the problems of life.
That even if words would afflict me,
or if the world persecutes me,
I should do nothing.

But we shouldn’t believe everything
that passes through our ears,
for we invest too much in these.
We should remember,
that we pour over worlds that have been imagined,
and that we watch scenes that look all
too good to be true.

Do not let these falsehoods keep you restrained.
But instead, let them make you better.
Let them make you bolder, fiercer,
and let them make you achieve.
Achieve in what was thought to be impossible,
what was thought to be unobtainable,
what was thought to be unachievable.
Don't let these lies keep you down,
because it is "I once believed" for a reason.
And that reason is,
that you didn't let the lies succeed.

we are all rocks. we are built up over many years, influenced by our surroundings as we weather and erode as part of the conditions we are subjected to - the trials that we are put through. we are compressed by the weight of heavy loads. we will be weighed down by our heavy hearts, and crushed by forces of the universe that are bigger than us. we are made up of many sediments, fragments of other rocks. the influence of others. we are the composition of everyone whom we've met, and their impact on our lives. some people leave larger pieces of sediment, while some are smaller than a tiny grain of sand. but they make us who we are today. and we never die. we live on for millions of years, you and me - these rocks are the physical imprints of our spiritual souls on the earth, because everyone affects something in one way or the other. we may not believe it, but believe this: we have the power to change the world - just by being here. we are a part of the bigger picture, a series of rocks that make up part of human history. wherever you go, you will have made your mark. be it just a tiny dent in the soil, or a boulder that fell from a mountain - realise that things would be different if you had not been what you are and gone where you've been.

whom do you trust
solider, sailor, tinker, tailor....
what eyes see the meaning of the blind
what tongues listen...which lies
in the picturesque morning
beauty spins its deceptions with golden hued sunlight
weaves its hand puppet theatricals made of
fleeting wisps of smiles
kissing gestures weakly delivered
    solider,  sailor,  tinker,  tailor...
    they gather round the dead man
    some come to mourn the lost
    some come to rifle through his pockets
    some come to silently wait for their own fate
he sits in his worn chair
in a pool of lamplight
with a small hammer in hand
his spectacles on bridge of his nose
tapping tapping ever so gently the thin metal mask
tinker...tailor...sailor...solider
the uniform of his mind shifts according to his lie
his tool is always the deceptions and misdirections
a sly smile...firm handshake...a signature style
'to whom do you trust' is a phrase that troubles him
her perfume lingers in the air
years have buried the cold war
but not its warriors
not their handiwork
     they dress the dead man for his burial
     with his decorations and platitudes
     with his shiny sword and neat uniform
     with honors they lay him
     with truths his secret they bury him
     why did he do thus....to whom did he answer
     to the tomb with his truths and lies
     to the tomb
he gathers the long coat
and the umbrella
walks out in london's chill spring night
to a bridge
and throws a small box into the river
long years after the cold war died
these men of shadows still play
these keepers of the gate still watch for hannibal and his horde
solider,  sailor,  tinker,  tailor
whom do you trust

Once when I was little
I was dared to jump off the roof
of my uncle’s house, but it wasn’t so tall
just one, two, three stories,
but I didn’t die I didn’t
I landed on the trampoline
it didn’t break, it didn’t break
not until my next cousin jumped
and missed the thing entirely
breaking his ankle, and nothing else
and giving my aunt a heart attack
but I won the bet at least

Once when I was in Spanish Class
We had a no english day
so we spoke in pig latin
and she couldn’t make us stop
because pig latin isn’t english
and there was nothing she could do about it

Once I had a dream
that we tied strings to our friend
and he flew in the wind like a kite
our instructor fell from the ceiling
“I’m not your ****** one winged bird”
and you turned into a teddy bear

Once I had a nightmare
that I was walking along the train tracks
in the dark and couldn’t find
the person calling for me
it was you, and her, and the others
and it wasn’t safe, but I couldn’t find you

Once I had a dream
that animals were tearing at each other
at themselves
that a storage space stood empty
and you told me quite simply
“Stop it.”

Once I stood on ice and water
fingers slipping against rock
too heavy for me to hold and
much too heavy for me to keep
and it slipped from my fingers
and you dove in
and saved me

Once I sat in Thomas’s class
and daydreamed we ****** on every surface
and thought that maybe it was
completely plausible
that Thomas and the class would be there too
at least I think that happened once
or twice or three times
but it may not have happened at all

Once I sat in the library
writing up a heap of lies
and wondering which the poem was
a lie or a truth or both
I wondered where the exaggeration came
where it went
and paused to think it through again
as if it were nothing else.

Once we walked home together
and there was silence between us,
Tyrell words, growing stronger,
and I wondered what it was
that was so terrible about silence
with two people on either side
understanding the other.

Once I woke up alone
and saw you standing there in my bedroom
but you were younger, smaller,
and your eyes glowed something fierce
I could tell they were blue then,
though usually I don’t remember
and most times I can’t even discern
the color of your hair

Once I realized
I don’t like blonds.
They annoy me and they vex me
and I can’t deal with that
but honestly, what do I expect?
Her hair’s blonde naturally, you know
she dyes it so no one knows.
And they say you’re blond too, I guess
but I don’t think it shows.