And if I'll always be psychotic,
let it be no harm to anyone..
Fill my mind with hues of color
and not the pressure of time..
If I'm convinced of any lies,
let it be: this world is fine
I'll bid farewell to sanity
and let the colors fill my mind..

I'm pacing these floors,
shaking my head,
shifting in my bed,,
trying to figure out
what happened..

what happened?

Obsessed and
aggravated.

What happened?

Why is everybody
so **** mad?
And why do I
always talk so slow?

.. likes tearing people down
with loose talk and harsh words -
Empathy tossed aside
by the misuse of nouns and verbs.
.. a twisted view of society
just bound to be seen and heard -
Everyone, listen quietly
till every harsh word is slurred.
The Queen of the Night Life;
her brokenness - a crown.
Out-spokenness - a sword
that she just loves to swing around.
And me, I'm just a jester;
my struggle - a comedic scene,
but she’s justified by anger
only entitled to the royal queen

If I could only
grasp the wind,
then I would know
how freedom feels -

And if I could
know you once again,
it'd take these
blisters off my heels.

For now, I'm lonely -
scratchin' skin
beneath the rags
of where I've been.

Staying outside
my broken mind -
too afraid
of looking in.

The boy could run
but he couldn't walk
Had no time to think
and no room to talk
Passed by more people
than he ever helped
Never knew anything
except for what he felt
But if there's one thing good
we can say about this man
it's that he's long gone now
and, here, we all stand

A sheet of ice from the winter freeze,
Candle-lit windows, haunting trees,
Branches dancing in the subtle breeze.
A quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

A distant light from the radio tower
Blinks on time in the late-night hour.
A star-scattered sky so still and sweet.
A quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

Redlights ahead, the road ending abrupt
Kicking rocks to keep from looking up.
Cracks in my soul like the cold concrete.
A quiet earth rolls beneath my feet

A man staggers in the streetlight glow.
He smiles because he knows that I know.
I nod and gaze down the familiar street
as a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

Down by the oak trees and old ball park,
The hillside hidden by the dense dark,
I hear the rushing sound of Town Hill Creek.
A quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

Caught up inside
a storm,
I whispered softly  
into the wind,
"Don't let the
lightening strike
me like it has with
all my friends."
The firstfruits of our
freedom trickled
down from
the oppressor.
I want, so badly,
to make it right,
but I just can't
in this kind of
weather.