"I'd like to speak
like I'm not struggling,"
he said quietly, as if he
were the only person in
the room who cared to
hear.

"But here's the truth,
I am struggling, and
I'm fighting, and at
times, I'm drowning."
And as he looked out
the window, rain
beat against the pane,
and he felt oddly free.

So this is goodbye again
My fickle friend
You were hard to live in
At times
Others like the moon
Surrounded by stars
people and cars
Everywhere
A hum hanging
In the air
A chaotic symphony
Swooping like blind spirits
Through streets and hair
And I left you there
Behind me
Staring eagerly after me
As if a toy
Fled your playpen
And you want it back
To parade me around
Manipulate, twist and bend
Toss playfully into the wind
Caring not
Where I land
Just another speck of sand
On your overcrowded beach
Yet still within reach
A pawn without a Queen
Just a wasteful tyrant King
Waiting for the East to bring
Your next crop
Of starry eyes
And hungry hearts
Actors hands out for their parts
But I’ll sneak out in the dark
As the ghetto birds hover
Over dogs that love to bark
And then I’ll finally be free
And when your highways
Wake you in the morning
I find it funny
You won’t even miss me

- Jack Piatt

He told me that he didn’t like his smile.
“It’s too big,” he said.
But little does he know that a smile like his
could light up an arena.

He told me that he didn’t like his voice.
“It sounds weird on tape,” he said.
But little does he know that a voice like his
could engage the toughest of crowds.

He told me that he didn’t like his laugh.
“It’s loud and obnoxious,” he said.
But little does he know that a laugh like his
could spread as if it were an infection.

He told me that he liked me.
“I want to be with you,” he said.
But little does he know that someone like him
could do so much better than someone like me.

Is it too much to ask for someone to give a ****?
You are not blind.
You can see how ****** up I am.
You all can.
I can't ask for help again,
Because that does absolutely nothing.
Maybe if I stop cutting my legs,
And start cutting my wrists.
Maybe if I get drunk at 8 am.
Maybe if I start doing coke off the kitchen table again,
And waking up at 1 pm,
And staying in all day long.
And leave empty bottles of nyquil around my place,
Just for you to see.
What the **** do I have to do to get some ******* help?

Wake me up when I'm older,
for I can't fight any longer.
Wake me up when it's colder,
for I can't be any clever.

Wake me up! Just wake me up
when the world learns to smile,
when people lower their pride,
when eyes of men will see truth,
when peace will never be loathed,
when war of egos will be stopped,
just don't forget to wake me up.

Wake me up when I'm older,
for I can be any clever.
Wake me up when it's colder,
for I can fight any longer.