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travis lee Feb 2014
I don't want to be happy, with my memories of the past, With smile's and laughter something that never did last. Pain and sorrow filled my eyes with tears, as my crimson red blood released all my fears. The razor that glisten and was my only friend, On nothing else did I ever Depend. Drowning myself in the blue of my mind, Happiness my longing, something I could never find. I plastered a smile on my tear stained face, Disappearing on spot without a single trace. With the demons in my mind chasing me around, I felt to fall six feet under, under the ground. I'm done living in fear of the past coming again, so I prey on my knees please, Amen. Now I look forward to the future and what it will hold, waking to a day of the sun shining shimmering gold. Peaking through the windows the birds will sing a song, as the tree's stand tall and strong. The beautiful day falls to night, But still the sun will always shine bright. She shines for us, us sad human beings, she shines for us to brighten our things. She rises again to show her glory, her beautiful blinding light telling another story. She falls again so that we may sleep, rest under her soft glimmering light away she sweeps. The bad memories and bad thoughts she consumes them all, and into a beautiful deep sleep we fall. I want to be like the sun, shining bright for everyone. To take away your pain and live in a new day, Live it happy and in my own way..
What I want most is a future.
A future of joy.
A future of love.
A future of My own choosing.
My Destiny.
My future.
No more pain.
travis lee Feb 2014
One troubling night a boy rushes to his room and slams the door. He grips his writing utensil and starts at the top of his canvas he scripples rough lines. But to his forsaken mind it is beautiful.  The deeper he gets into his drawing. He begins to fade away in a different demention, everything slows down as his heart races. Mind pondering as he is stupid enough to keep drawing. He wants to stop but he is to far gone into his trance. Deeper he goes into the beautiful artwork he is creating he suddenly notices the utensil was a razor and his canvas was hes precious body as the crimson red blood puddles around him. Faintly whisper of his innermost feelings urges the **** out of little devilish ******* Inside. Skin torn and tattered the emerge and leave him sinking, fading, lossing himself. Dead.

— The End —