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  May 2014 Taylor Cuomo
Renae
Since money is all you want
Money is all you'll see
If money is all you love
then money is what you'll be
Money money money money
Money does not love you honey
Cause love cannot be bought
What happens when the money is gone
You'll be all alone and lost
Just remember you chose money
So money is what you got
You cannot buy your children's love and respect they will only feel entitled or like they owe you, it will never be from the heart.
when Whitman wrote, "I sing the body electric"

I know what he
meant
I know what he
wanted:

to be completely alive every moment
in spite of the inevitable.

we can't cheat death but we can make it
work so hard
that when it does take
us

it will have known a victory just as
perfect as
ours.
  Apr 2014 Taylor Cuomo
Fel
Big happy smiles
That's all I am
Happy smiles
And easy laughs
It looks so natural
Like where it should be
But it hides
Thousands of emotions
Thoughts
Feelings
Hidden within these smiles.
Sure,
Some of these emotions
Thoughts
And feelings,
They are happiness
But a lot of them are not.
And my confidence?
Like everything else here,
That is faked pretty well too.
Things are getting better, I promise. I just have to keep faking it til it happens.
  Apr 2014 Taylor Cuomo
Fel
Unbeautiful, unbeautiful
Unhandsome and unimportant
This one goes out to the losers
All the liars and the thieves
And the wannabe beauty queens

You're never going to shine
Not even for a little bit
So get off the stage
Before the booing crowds take seize
Unbeautiful, unbeautiful
This one goes out to me.
A possible chorus to a song I'm trying to write. So perhaps sometime in the future, there will be more than these two stanzas
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the ****** and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to ***** up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

— The End —