Just a ThoughtYou know the irony of life is that you have these dreams and ideas about where you want to be,but once you get there you start to dream about where you came from, where you’ve been.I suppose that’s part of the circle of our lives, like the hands of a clock going round. If only we could wind it back and return to a time when the dream first began,we might find it really wasn’t all that important to begin with.
Mindless HeartstringsCut my heartstringsToy with my mind,Hide me from the world,By turning me blind.
Chemical ReactionPoint a gun to my head or force me to bleedEveryone has something to believeThe drunk and aloneIf your passionate your also stonedEither your alive or dead or just hanging by a thread Life has the point all you need is the directionSatisfaction is key to distractionShots ring out are you ready for death or a chemical reaction.This legal demonstration and fixed frustration is only the beginningTotal annihilation in this severed mind.What's left behind in my subconsciousBlind are my eyes that can't see the detailsThe scrips that portray the storyBooks get you hooked on knowledge and the murder she wrote.
Noticing MeEvery night, I cry myself to sleep.And while I sleep,I dream. I dream that I’ll be noticed,Not shut off in a cage,I dream that I’m full of joy,Not full of rage.But when I wake up,In the morning, hoping,That my dream was reality,I find myself not coping.So I close myself away,And I listen to sad songs,And I’m ignored by all,All day long.I call for my mum,And she answers, but doesn’t reply,So I bury myself away,And inside, I cry.When my friends call for me,But ignore when I’m there,I wonder if I should blank them,But never would I dare.Maybe I’m too soft,Unhuman, perhaps.But if
Free SoulLiving pure,Living free,That is how I want to be.A wild bird in the trees,Doing by all meansTo survive,Stay alive.No matter what, I must not die.I will take onEverything and everyone.I will take on myself,Force the past off of the shelf.I will free myself of my mind,Which once again has left me behind.And I will finally end this pain,For once, I will let it rain.The rain can clean the stains,And wash away the painsOf loneliness and suffering,The product of never-ending falling.I will let my heart become oneWith my soul, now I will run my own show.I will make bad choices,I will not listen to the voices,I can finally breath easy,Knowing my path is not as windy.Finally, I can live purely.Without this past, I can live freely.This is how I've always wanted to be,I'm a wild bird in the trees,Surviving by all means.And no matter what, I will not die.Because my soul will always be alive.
Poetry On The WallsNobody wantsTo hang poetry on their wallsFor allthe heavier lineswould falland the word soaked wallswould pineand be painedlike a poets pen doesWhen a poet's heart rainsThe poet starts writingfinding insightful sightingsinto the poets own mindthough the feelingis a lonely oneand the reelingthoughts knotand won't come undoneif the words of the poetare hurtthey will show itAnd the world will knowIt can't be slowedTo accommodate thoseLeft behind in a pileOf wavering wordsEither gentle or vileWords of loveOr words of lifeBecome something ofA struggle to stifleThe muddled mouth's attemptsTo bend a lies rivalYet
Arms Like CanvasI don't know your name.Only the hate lines on your wrist,the story-lines you write there,the hints everyone has missed.I'm sorry we've all crushed you,let your halo fall,My head hangs here in shame,as I speak for humanity, for us all.It's a sick, sad world,when 15 can be the last year.When faggot, worthless, and fatass are thrown around like salutations,as we drown in a sea of hushed prayers and fear.
A pencil's life A Pencil's lifeI sit on the shelf,Day by day.I wait for someone to pick me up,But I don't see anyone coming.Each week, new pencils arrive, and I only get pushed to the back.It's the 19th of August,And almost time for school,It's the time where most pencils get picked,But I,No,I just sit and wait for another year to go by.I'm the last one on the shelf,And it's almost time for school,But alas,Someone has picked me up.They take me home,And put me away,So that I am ready for the first day!I am excited!I am restless!I can't wait for tomorrow.It is finally morning,And I am ready,to take on what comes at me.I was sharp,But now I'm dull.I can't wait for the next day to come.Once I'm sharpened,I'm ready to go,Ready to take on more challenges.
runrun and run and rununtil the day is doneyou cannot overcomethe setting of the sunbut when the world's awayand when the mice do playthen you and I will stayaway for ever and a day.so run with me and rununtil we see the sunaway from the ravage of timeuntil you are with me and mine
To pierce the veil of nightA weary worn traveler strung out from miles of life’s highway streamI am an unwilling an endless sojourner racing blindly toward the veil of night, a chance to dream. Adrift in the surreal tunnel-visioned plane of nascent sleep, I lay down, a dog-tired sailor upon the lissome luxury of satin sheet. Pestiferous feelings of loneliness fervidly plague weighing an already heavy mind, as dreams whisk me away on yet another journey of a different kind. Now lavishly adorned in the velvet cloak of night, I embark a swift winged spirit upon unconscious flight.Paroxysms of longing grow ardent with each passing night, as my hearts appetenc
Acheyep yep the veil is usyet yet they fail the trustnext step betrayal is dustnext says the cable is cut
PolarThere are days when I want to shout;scream with the might of the world and run until I can no longer feel my legs. Days where I want to makea miracle, or go on a life-changing journey;create memories that I will someday tell my children about. These are the dayswhen the world is infiniteand nothing is impossible.However, there are some daysthat I feel nothing, and there is no greater urge in the day than to lay down, curl up in a ball, and simply breathe.
Her Name is Misery.I saw a girl today with red marks on her arms,that match the scars on mine.I asked her for a spare story,she laughed and said, "I'm fine".I saw her waver,I saw her smile falter a bit.She needed friendship,but didn't know what to make of it.So I sat there,In a crowded room of two.I listened to her raindrops,and her stories of people so cruel.Now, I chronicle her,so you all can see.Her tale of lonely sunlight,and how cold this world can be.
Commonitionemi don't kill a stari kill a constellationbestill the beating heartsof every nation
A poem from Count EndI will appear in your deepest and darkest fears.When you scream.I shall always appears.I always want you all to suffer more.Your puny lives are nothing nevermore.I have created the void.so you will always avoid.when I'm around your never safe!Even in a protected place.and you will suffer....
Load and PullLoad the gunAnd point it at all the mistakesAll the lies, the hidingLoad the gunAnd say goodbye to everything you regretWish it all away.Load the gunAnd hope he forgets you ever existedHope he forgets the painPull the triggerAnd make all the pain disappearSay goodbye.
Did somebody just admit they needed someone?