Never will
his memory die
for he lives
in song and art

floating
his spirit blends
with his beloved sky
filled in a sea
of stars

and in the stars
at last he has become
part of the space
he loved

The legend watches
now a constellation
and smiles upon
the work he has inspired

On the bedside she see's
the bottle responsible
for keeping her big brother
the way he was before

the 'happy bottle' she named it
and hoped that eventually
big brother will no longer need it
and they could really live happily

But big brother said
he hates the happy bottle
and that when he uses it
it hurts

she grew to hate the happy bottle
because she realized
in her brothers eyes
he was only numbed

Taking the happy bottle
she breaks it
hoping to give her big brother
his happiness back

How easily done
applying words
to situations
not your own

easier yet is it to
fake sympathy with words
so when writing for others
let them see
that what's written it genuinely/

Gotta laugh
at how things spin
and when they say
outcasts never win

but groups and cliches
are still a thing
still human
insecurities hidden within

Jocks and nerds
cheerleaders, readers
still inside
asking
"Please love me"
"Please accept me"

how things have seemed to turn
How outcasts are still outcasts
but things previously applied to outcasts
now mainstream?

An outcast is never truly outcast
for they outweigh those
said to be cool and popular
still

no matter how big the group
outcasts always seen as that
minority of preps will soon see
that the true outcasts
are those

hiding behind the validation
of others
and their crew

There is risk and words
in arguments
against what is commonly
perceived as true

try and bring up politics
and they'll want to make
an enemy of you

to quiet you
and drown you and noise
block out facts
with fake new reports

and suspicion becomes
what is seen as true
no longer are
facts and logic friend

underneath
at all
fear and no understanding
risk to say what is true

risk what you say
risk what you do
careful cause they'll make
an enemy of you

Stuck in fantasy
cursed
broken
sad little boy
alone

smothered by conformity
forced to be
what he is not

be this
Don;t be that
Don't be you

No
no
refusal
no

break
no
break!
NO!
BREAK!
NO!
­
just a fool
always the fool
not going
to stay
chooses to stay
lost in yourself

Delicately placed
upon her bedside
how did he get past
with out her knowing?

snoring beside
still in a world of dreams
he stares
yearning for her beauty
and in the doorway
stand her guardian

he rubs his eyes, once, twice
no anger, only confusion
with a tilt of his head
silently he questions
who are you

you freeze, caught
surely, this will be your last night
where you can gaze
upon her sleeping form.

Drop by in the morning, it's late
you stare in surprise, no malice on his features
eyes on the white rose
he leaves you to your devices