From behind the bar I recall what led me here.
Not to see people fight over  spots on a board.
But to bring them togather as friends.
Not drive them apart as enimies.

To see the glass stay  full.
And the spirts to bring cheer.
Jokes hold truth.
As the jester I know pain.

Smells of perfume and smoke beautiful eye's
and that invisable desire.
We dance in hope of capturing life.

To embrace in darkness.
The page can never capture the passion
of two lovers spark.

From behind the bar  I see life
for more than what others belive  it is.
Jokes comfort as the flirt kisses  the ego.

Napkins written with numbers passed encounters
promised.
Some never to know the light of day.

Hungover friends  gather whiskey  laced
plessures  with a tinge of regret.
But life is one play  my friends  that no
single act shall we froget.

The drink sit's neat apon the bar.
You can see blindley for years.
And never know who people truley are.

Drinks as people dont last long.
They gleam the same under neon light.
So friends always mix them strong.

To know more than the plessures  of  a nights  collision.
Twisted is the tangle   in the blindness of passion
it absorbs into the night.

Far beyond actions  and simple passion of a night shared.
The scent of  its plessure makes thoughts subside.
As she does tease the senses we are brought down
to  the ways of children begging for release.

To know passion and embrace the  moment
she will not understand.
Dreamers cannot fathom  its pure reallity.

Laced in love so ****** up from life.
Gentle  are the velvet edges tender as
the surgeons knife.


When it ends maybe tommorow it shall begin.
To feel it's fire only to be tormented by it's cold.

The beauty  of a violent release flustration
in arms of regret does reside.
The sounds of  echo of torments plessure.
The true voice we were so unwilling to admit.

As in the are madness  sanity  is but a glimmer of light.
As held tightley two bodies rest weary.
Cast a jaded view of love of a immortal  
apon this soon  to be forgotten night.

Hidden in tranquility it plessures my mind. Peacefull and obscure just the echoes of my thougths. No sound no interuption just the spark of the dark , it fills my heart with wondering plots. What to do, what to say on the upcoming day but this little spark distracts me so in plain white my mind stays no thougths no plans just me and the serenity and gaze of the spark. I dont ask for ligth for this is the only need, some peace and quiet shadowed and unseen. The ligth is too brigth and it hurts my eyes not to mention the noisy people at dayligth witch if I havent mentioned I despise. Morning birds are the devils crys I prefer the owls the nigths spys, all I need is the sparks dark shine to make this moment torn twine with I. Just meditation it and I no ligth just this exeption of this spark and its ligth shine.

Theres always a excuse not to fail.
Lack of spine is what it all comes down.to.
Many build a callus on there *** waiting for something to land in there lap.

Is it fear or comfort that makes one lazy?

I never knew anything easy two broken feet a few broken ribs a busted knuckle or two the scars of effort i wore them with pride.

People are a nice thought far to often gone astray.
There words lend fools comfort.
And keep the bitter moving without regret.

I was alone with my thoughts and what a place i truly embraced being.
Crazy is just a word to keep others away.

Maybe its why i wore it like a badge.
For its the mad ones that intrest me the most.

There is always a reason not to try.
And never a excuse that doesnt reek of ******* and a normal existance.


Saftey is for signs on the walls and guns in bored fools hands.

Avoid that word at all time's and you will be fine.
As you bask in the solace of your own truths and simple plessures.

Theres never a excuse.