The Write of the Emo Poet
Of course is doomed to fail
Yet even so they raise their pen
Against the world to rail
Through glasses fashioned out of angst
They view a graying sky
And know that it will only end
Upon the day they die
With blood black ink they write the words
That cause the moon to cry
And tell of all the things gone wrong
But never answer why

The Write of the Emo Poet
Is dipped in bitter sweet
Its forged on long walks through the fog
And drizzle on the street
For every thing that might be good
They find some hidden wrong
Which others cannot understand
Alone they sing their song
In mournful tones that rip the heart
And bind even the strong
Their only joy is knowing of
The sorrows of the throng

what can you do about the monkey?
well you know he can't be trained,
oh, he can learn some lovely tricks,
but he never can be tamed.

you can dress him up in a tux and tails,
but don't take him to the ball.
he just won't behave like he's supposed to do,
he doesn't get that scene at all.

so what can you do about the monkey?
you got to take him as he is,
and you know he'll always be there,
if you're a friend of his.

but the monkey does his own thing,
and he's always on the go.
yet he'll make you laugh and have some fun,
that's the way he is you know.

I wonder,
did I smile that day?
Did some dreamy absent look
draw her eye?
I don't recall, in truth
I don't remember anything much about the day.
Somehow though I guess she chose
I guess it was alright with me
I guess I never did say no
Somehow it seemed that we were spending time
and somehow all that time just seemed to grow.

Did I ask her? Really?
I guess I did and somehow I should recall
but looking back it all was such a blur
I guess she answered yes.
But that was a million years ago
and what did we know back then?

I guess I should have known
that something wasn't right
I should have wondered why certain words
just never came from her
I should have known but I was young

She always liked me, no doubt of that,
and I knew what she wanted
I knew she wanted to escape
but I never realized that I was just
a safe way out

But that was a million years ago
it hardly matters now
We were young
what did we know of love?

I reach to touch but all I find
is fragrant vapor in my hand
That once had been perfume, I think
and now is not but ghostly form

I look to see but everything
is faded moonlight on the breeze
The shadow of a dream forgot
with nothing but specter's life

I try to hear but all is silence
the scream of snails across the sea
muffled by fleecy clouds between
leaves only dim remembered sighs

Wild blows the wind while the darkness burns
In the deepest winter when the moonlight turns
As the snow falls down on the burdened trees
In the secret places that no one sees

The shades that gather are just whispered form
As the world is waiting for the coming morn'
Though the windows rattle or the door might creak
Just close your eyes and go to sleep

The things that might be, are running late
The things you fear will have to wait
For now it's time for gentle dreams
You know that nothing's as it seems

Long shadows grow and cast their dread
But the sun will rise leaving shadows dead
Never mind those mysteries
If they're important then we shall see

Lay down your head, all the rest will wait
The morning comes with it's new slate
so sleep a time while the planet turns
And the wild wind blows as the darkness burns

And we, as is the want of man, have dreamed our dreams
We have built within our minds the future that should have been
Then, in the silence of reality's shadow,
Our perfect story has melted to reveal the imperfect truth.

Where is time and does it come at our call?
The hours of pain and sorrow seem to come in waves beyond measure
Each moment containing it's own Forever
And so, in these we live Eternities
And yet the moments of joy are swiftly past
And what of us?

Was there a moment that once we might have had a chance
That we could have held it in our palms?
But if it was ever so, it slipped away
and left only the fragrant sweetness of memories that fade.

Where was our chance, did we not deserve one?
And at the end of the day, having laboured long and hard
Where was our reward?
For it is as if some unseen hand has swept away all the value of our deeds
As if the future, like the past, was decided without consultation
and we are left with only shattered dreams

There was a moment, once
Of that I am sure
We dared to believe
But as if the universe itself could not bare the thought
That moment fled from us
Leaving only tears

And now we have only now
The past might never have been
The future might never come
This now is all we can hope for
This now must be forever for we will come no closer

I would kiss away our tears,
But I fear they are too fragile
and the pressure of my lips might
destroy the shadow of who you were

You were
Never doubt that
Do not let that dream die completely
Once you were the person your dream claims you were
and I shall remember that forever

In all this world of wonders, where is the place for us?
In all the vastness of history, what time is there for us?
In the midst of claims of freedom, do we have a choice?
Is the singular moment that once glistened
The only moment we shall ever see?
I fear that if we lived a thousand years
We might never have our time in the sun.
We who move in shadows to make a life for others
We who toil unnoticed who give and yet seem destined never to receive.
I do not speak for myself - that would seem too strange,
But for the others who, hidden from sight, are drained,
Not by some enemy or creature of vile nature,
But by those very people they have given themself to nuture.
Is this the price we must pay?
Not only abandoned but denied.