Freedom was a writer from whom his name was stolen.
That of whom left his breaths on every page he wrote the meanings of which, were torn from his chest.
He was the fruit of his works,
of his labour.
And was the whistle in the wind that blew that blew through silence.
Hanging tastefully in the air.
A sweet sensation.
Who grew from dismality, was named and married to him as Hope.
The growths of their union,
the words of the tormented writer and the melodies of the candied breeze,
were songs of story sung for acres.
And who’s dawned legacies are the working times of their lovechildren,
Emancipation and Liberty.

so, I decided to challenge myself and write a poem that included the titles of 20 of my favorite songs. and I did it. this might be one of my favorites. see if you can find all the titles. check it out

I thought I’d have to go to another world
to find somewhere I belong.
I felt powerless. Alone. A broken man in a carnival of rust.
My friends always tried to make me feel wanted
by saying “someone’s gonna light you up.”
But I always felt like the only thing people saw
were my imperfections.
They wouldn’t have tried so hard to break me
if they saw how good of a person I tried to be, right?
Or is it the opposite? They didn’t want one more light
in a world that was already so dark?
Well, they almost won. I almost tried to see heaven.
But I’m still standing.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m a simple man
or because I decided to stand in the light,
but I was given a second chance. Now, I don’t worry about a thing.
Because what I’ve got is all I’ve ever wanted.
Every time I look in her angel eyes, little by little,
the black of my iris gets lighter.
And now that I can see how beautiful life can be,
I’m not afraid to follow you wherever you will go.
I’m forever yours…faithfully.

If you know you're wanted,
Please don't take that for granted.
Because someone you know
Doesn't know. Doesn't believe.
Has had peers tell them
They're a burden.
They hear it so much, they believe it.
If you're reading this,
And you're feeling this way,
Let me be the first to say...I want you.
I want you to live.
I want you to not be afraid to love.
I want you to find courage and pride.
I want you to rise above.
Because I've been there.
And you deserve to feel wanted.

I am a lighthouse
My light shines you ashore
Away from the boulders  
When you can’t see Anymore

I am a lighthouse
I guide you through the storm
But when I am used
I am not wanted anymore

I am your lighthouse
But still I am alone
My purpose is solely
To guide you back home

This is the story of Good-Time Tim
That I sit down to tell you today
No matter the weather
No matter the season
This man just wanted to play

And rain always calls for a raincoat
Boots and a hat for good measure
But Tim didn't need any protection from the storm
In the downpour in fact he took pleasure

His father put the pressure on
From a young age expected perfection
So when he grew up he got the hell out of dodge
Moved far away from parental correction

He was always in a drinking mood
Any time of day or night
If you caught him four drinks or more in
Whew! He was quite a sloppy sight!

This is the story of Good-Time Tim
That I sit down to tell you today
No matter the weather
No matter the season
This man just wanted to play

He drank hard alcohol and beer
Without discrimination
Either one would work just fine
For his goal of inebriation

He was a bit too rough on his body
Which is an overly gross understatement
He neglected his health and mental well-being
In reckless pursuit of entertainment

He wasted his life away getting wasted
Never pausing to consider that he might be missing out
Too self-destructive to attract a wife
So a family he chose to live without

This is the story of Good-Time Tim
That I sit down to tell you today
No matter the weather
No matter the season
This man just wanted to play

There was the time Tim broke his shoulder
Falling out of a tree
Because someone bet he couldn't reach the top
A task that proved to be an impossibility

Tim hardly ever brushed his teeth
So they all fell out by age 45
But considering his lifestyle
He was just lucky to still be alive

Surprisingly he was a religious man
Although not one page of the bible did he read
He had heard Jesus turned water to wine
That was all the preaching he'd ever need

This is the story of Good-Time Tim
That I sit down to tell you today
No matter the weather
No matter the season
This man just wanted to play

As he grew old he began to slow down
But not once did he ever regret
The countless mistakes he had made through the years
I guess the ***** made him forget

His liver held up for a very long time
But eventually started to rot
But for Tim it was too late to get sober
So he still swallowed shot after shot

When the doctor gave him his fatal diagnosis
He laughed and said "I'm ready to go
But make sure I'm buried with a bottle
In case they don't serve liquor way down there below!"

I hate when the my thoughts go there
And I sit and stare
I hate when I get tempted to do that
And I do and regret
I hate when I do not feel content
As I  haven't  lived a sad life.
I hate when I do not know what I resent
But that feeling controls my life
I hate to see that I am not what I wanted to be

i wanted to spend time with you
i wanted to cook for you
i wanted to dance for you
i wanted to dance with you
i wanted to cuddle with you
i wanted to hug you
i wanted to grab and kiss you
i wanted to hold your hand
i wanted to play for you
i wanted to laugh with you
i wanted to be right beside you