Sometimes I ask myself
when did my thoughts and hopes of blue and green
turn into violet worries, violent dispositions
When did this soul with its empty bookshelf
burn all its unwritten scripts of things yet to be seen
and my steady solace turn into a contradiction

I know what I want in life
when I see my favorite pieces of art
scattered accross the canvas of my solitary nights
my cold fingers once touched it and I can count it on all five
I want to believe that I'd be content with really only a shard
to know my dreams aren't just made of imaginary sights

My open heart drives me
in uncertain directions with clear aspiration, sometimes just insane
but always looking, always wanting, always one heart ahead
If my eyes could only look beyond uncertainty and I'd finally see
a way that goes far and will let me travel along a green country lane
If I could feel as if I'd know why it seems so difficult not to be dead.

In everything that had to be broken and shed
these distant promises on remote and empty shores
For only the contingency of all that could be good and whole
Truly not knowing where this road might have led
and still keep my hands open and reaching and breathe in deeply through all of my pores
let me just find one wholesome and abiding content in this burning library inside my soul

My insomniac friend
What kind of thoughts what kind of regrets
Won't let your day end?
My insomniac friend what kind of music could sooth your worries?
Could I be the one who owes you some sorries?
My insomniac friend why do you stress?
You said it's not the worst but the best.
My insomniac friend why do you keep hiding?
You've gotten so good at lying.
My insomniac friend who could you be?
I think I found you one night living inside me

You lay there sleeping as I listen to your heart beat
I want to give you the world
But mine is shattering beneath me
How do I explain it
You'll never understand what I'm saying
But my heart has taken many, many hits
I weep when I'm alone
No one I can rely on very long
Slowly.. I'm turning to stone
I blame you for everything
Tell you to take responsibility
But I'm really talking to my own insecurities
What if you die?
I'd **** myself
One more tug and I'll start to fly
The inevitable runs my life.

From midnight to morning
Words come with no warning
They eack and they squeak
They beg to speak
There's poems and stories
And all sorts of glories
There’s worries and cares
And waves of despairs
There’s love and ache
And fear of heart break
The thoughts in my head
Beg to be read
These valuable words
Want to be heard
But as the clock ticks and tocks
I lay still like a rock
And as if there’s no warning
Midnight becomes morning
I wake from my slumber
And always wonder
Why words that haunted my night
slip away at first light.

Perched overhead
Oh so sweet
The mother robin gives her children a worm to eat
No worries of tomorrow
Only caring for today
The mother robin has no worries of what others will say
She takes care of her offspring
A small tune she will sing
For she is content in today
Not a care of tomorrow
She feels no stress
She feels no sorrow
Only today
If I could be like the mother robin
Oh! If I could learn from her!
My life could be tranquil
Instead of all these dips and turns
The road would be straight and narrow
Flying as straight as an arrow
If I could learn from the mother robin
Maybe then, my life could begin.

She smiled and she grinned.
  So happy, so free.
  Unbothered by the worries,
  Not one could plainly see.

  But far beneath the smiles,
  She screamed, a soundless cry.
  She wept in deafening silence,
  Underneath the lie.

  He smiled, he laughed.
  Such a friendly young man.
  Bared one daughter, but no sons.
  He walked every day, never ran.

  But far beneath his chuckles,
  Were rules set to comply.
  With the daughter that he’d beaten,
  Underneath the lie.

  The evening of the funeral,
  She’d mourned for their third part.
  The mother she’d held dearly,
  Heart spiked over the feeble chart.
  
  Family gathered around him,
  Said they’re sorry for his loss.
  Wife and daughter gone,
  He prayed under the wooden cross.
  
  But far beneath his sorrow,
  His heinous grin reached the sky.
  For he cried tears of satisfaction,
  Underneath the lie.