Another scar to bear
And another pain inside.
Nothing for you to see,
It's hidden behind my eyes,
But I do hurt, and myself I revile,
After these long months of living as a friend.

Victory, Victory, Victoria
So this is what's become of us.
Another scar,
Something my words did not intend,
Neither of us safe from their path.
We both played our part precise,
We, the engineers of our own demise.

You, with waiting to play your cards,
Unfortunately you played it too close, you played too far.
How long is a guy supposed to wait
Before he wises up,
Before he realizes he will not catch the bait?
You tell a guy just want to be friends, twice,
And you know what, he thinks he gets the point.
You built your walls up too high
To try and prevent a painful ending,
And instead we never got to start.

Victory, Victory, Victoria
So this is what's become of us.
Another scar,
Something my words did not intend,
With neither of us safe from their path.
We both played our parts precise,
We, the engineers of our own demise.

It seems as if I paint it all your fault
But we both played our parts.
I waited patient and tried to be
The best friend and what I thought you needed,
And when you mentioned your friend
Thought I was an "interest"ing guy,
I walked into it with my head held high
And both eyes staring open wide,
Refusing to let myself see
What you really did mean.

Victory, in honesty, I could only wait so long, hating to be alone,
And Victory, in honesty, I never thought I'd be singing this song,
Victoria, as things wound and rewrapped themselves
So quickly after I picked out a new course.

And to you again, how long do you
Expect a guy to sit tight and wait?
It's a lonely life to watch a girl live life
Until she finds she is ready to date.
And as for the poems you quoted at me,
Only one was written about the new "she".
If only you'd taken the time to see what
The upload date would surely tell you,
A different story on who the subject
Of that second poem was,
Of who I wrote that other poem for -
Or maybe you prefer now not to know
So neither of us has more reason to hurt
Beyond the fact that
I never showed you that poem.

So Victory, Victory, Victoria
This is what's to become of us.
Yet another scar to bear,
Something from my words I never did intend,
With neither of us safe from their path.
We, the players, acting our parts precise,
We, the engineers, the designers of our own demise.

If tears are wires tying  eyes to nose
if sobs are sinew
if night is dark
and day be light
and death be  long
I tie me up with tears and sobs and night in death.

I grant the chances I came across to
see me as I was, earthly, desires
another bare ground.

Heaven scents I breathe,
of you and me. I see
tears, sinew, eyes red, light,
as living with death and
chances met. I take
my ever in my hand and cast it to the winds;
never will I be
tied down.

The lies of guys I was unwise
To let between my thighs
Because their eyes beguiled
Every time they smiled and I
Could not prematurely say goodbye.
Instead I took the guy to bed
Despite the murmurs in my head
And said stupid things in his ear
That I regretted that year and still
And yes, I probably always will.

Some guys tell lies with their eyes
In a kind of non-verbal disguise,
Of bigger and sadder untruths
That a green youth suspect exist
So that I didn’t resist temptation
To ignore deceit and exaggeration
For a moment’s hope for romance
And an afternoon’s hopeful chance
At something profound and legendary
That I forgot I needed to be wary.

Then the surprises in my eyes
As I realized I was unwise
But still thought I loved the guys,
Time and time again, trying,
Forgetting the crying and chagrin,
Then brave enough to try again
Taking time to learn to swim
In the river of romantic dreams
That starts in a tiny little stream
Going on until I sink or scream
Love is not something from a magazine.

Then one day I wake and say
No more! I finally know the score.
The whole game is a sick bore
And I know what it is all for.
It is for the wises route to wisdom.
To know I am finally through with them,
To know which ones are bad for me
And which to welcome gratefully;
To set the table and make dinner
And know for sure, he’s a winner.

I share the concept happily,
For those who ask me seriously,
That dating can be successful
Can even be fun and restful
If you ignore the glittery butterflies
That cavort and lie with their eyes
And want only that momentary thing
But are deathly afraid of the ring
And the promise that comes with you.
Don’t applaud those who gig you.
And choose from those who dig you.

The man with the money.
Is the maker of the affair.
She doesn't worry.
She doesn't care.

We notice the rich just play with love.
And that the man within them
Is seeing them as a tool to them.

We see the athlete traveling here and there.
Later to be exposed by a uncaring affair.
But he's the man with the money.
Taking care of them.

And while we think she's dumb.
She much smarter than him.
For when she wises up.
She soon will break him.

A divorce and child support.
Will leave him in distress?
Then he soon realize he made his life a mess.

While his former spouse is living in a good looking mansion.

While he's the man without the money.
Looking like a fool.
This what happens?
When you think she's the fool.

Cause in retrospect.
She got the best of you.

Our polite smiles
Are so easily fake
Our courteous words
Are hidden with hate
A warmest of welcomes
Couldn't be more wrong
A most cheerful refrain
From a long hated song
Won't you stay for dinner
We really wish you wouldn't
Won't you have another drink
We know you really shouldn't
Our warmest wises goodbye
Just another great lie
We hope you'll soon return
We much rather you die

The world has no place for us
The creative, the introverted, it only accepts the best as that is its crutch
To depend on humanity's strange idea of perfection
Day in and day out, through both peace and times of insurrection
The awkward ones, the deep thinkers and the people that go by logic as well as the spirit
That speak their own truth onto the world until someone wises up and hears it.
The world has no place for you or me
To be an outsider, an outlandish freak seems to be our destiny.

The world has no place.... so we should do what we do best.... create.

“The one thing you shall not eat,
Can devour what you be.
The Red sweetness holds thee;
Core of poison, core of deceit.”

For many others without conscience tells,
They chant lies, they clang bells.
For power is not its conflict of corruption,
But a light to evil, a light of destruction.

Apple drops a head of thought.
Others, however, are long got.
For they have no will,
long gone they sought.

They boldly think, they blindly condemn,
Yet logic’s truth eludes each of them.
Because, presence wises the bird of them.

The worm that eats, the sweetness it brings.
The bird eats it so, masqueraded in wings.
For knowledge only gives moths light,
the tempt to corruption, arrogance flight.

And no told that numbers are right,
No knowledge of order, ultimate sight.
They chopped the apple tree, fuel it alight.
Now, they pay their price, their final blight.