Latest attempt. It's rough. I wrote it literally just now. It has no title

We’re all growing older,
And life, life’s getting colder.
Fruit rots off the vine,
Subject to passing time.
Seasons are fading,
And we, we’re all still waiting.
What have we done with our time?
What have we done with our time?
What have I done with mine?

We’re all growing older,
And life, it’s getting colder,
The sands of time.
It Slips away.
There for tomorrow, but gone yesterday.

Fruit. Rots off the vine,
Subject to passing time,
Seasons are fading,
But we? We’re all still waiting.
What have we done with our time,
What have I done with all mine??

It slipped away, now here I sway,
At the end of my line!

What have we done with our time?
What have I Done with all mine?
It slipped away, and now I say,
I’m out of time!

We’re all growing older,
And life, it’s getting colder.
Fruit rots off the vine,
Oh, the sunset is fading,
And we, we are still waiting.
We wait to see, what cannot be,

What have we done with our time?
What could I have done with all mine?

Fruit rots off the vine.

Yes, fruit, rots off the vine.
Wars are fought, lives are lost.
Towering trees will fall.

The sands of time, it slips away.
There for tomorrow but gone yesterday.
What will we do with that time?
What could I have done with mine?
I threw away, I didn’t say—

End of my line!

What have we done with our time?
Damn, what have I done with all mine?
Was just yesterday, that I wished to say
“The world is mine!”

But what have I done with my time?
What have you done with your time?

Did you throw away,
Like I threw away?

The sands of time!!!!

We’re all getting older.
Life’s getting colder.

We’re all growing older,
And life, life’s getting colder.
Fruit rots off the vine
Subject to passing time.
Seasons are fading,
And we, we’re all still waiting.
What have we done with our time?
What have we done with our time?

What have I done with all mine?

Will you get to see,
What has yet to be?
Will you get to see,
What has yet to be?

All that you’ve done…
With this time.

Guess i was on the wrong end at the wrong time,
I put my trust in you, i thought youd earned it.
Dont turn your back on me now, when my hour is here.
My star’s rising, my times running out.
I wont survive alone.
Stand by me, my hand is pleading,
Reach back and take me with you.
Take me with you. You won’t. I’ll ask anyway.
Don’t throw me away. Family is forever.
I’ll always remember this. Family is forever.

A Pair of Five's

Fiver fingernails dig into my wrist,
Leaving five little half-moons behind.
Five little welts, raised up,
Bleeding where the razor edge of your hands
Split the skin.
The wounds heal,
But five little half-moons forever
Remain behind.
An angry red warning,
Now a pale white reminder.
Five little scars that never went away.
I love you too, Daddy…


Five curled fingers, balled in a fist,
Flying toward me from afar,
Leaving five identical bruises on my body.
Five lovely flowers, blotched yellow, black, blue,
Blossom on my arms and stomach.
They say to me you love me,
That you care that I did wrong.
I don’t know what I did,
But I swear I’ll learn.
Bruises fade after a while,
The flowers die.
But I know new ones will take their place soon.
I love you too, baby.

_________________

God help me, I’m dying!
I can’t take this pain anymore!
It burns a hole through me
That glows like an ember from a forge.
I am…desolate.
I am hollow.
Like an empty shell.
But unlike the shell,
I have no pearly undercoating
That glimmers with a refined beauty.
No. I am…inhuman now.
All I can feel is the pain.
It comes and goes.
It waxes and wanes with the elegance of the moon,
And it eats away at the shores of my sanity
Like the pounding of the waves.
It is relentless.
I retreat into my mind each night,
At the time when it rises to its peak.
LET ME DIE! I scream.
END THIS AND LET ME END WITH IT!
My body clenches and unclenches, writhes and bucks
In response to this pain it can barely contain.
And all the while tears,
Those hot hateful tears,
Pour from the corners of my eyes as I hold them shut.
I lie in the dark, shuddering, whimpering.
The pain I feel is beyond expression.
It is…darkness. It is…the emptiness.
It is like some thing has come and taken out my soul.
I feel so alone here, in this place where the world falls away,
Where there is ONLY the pain.
Curled up beneath the covers of my bed, I still weep.
And as I weep, I scream inside my mind.
And woe to the person who could hear that scream.
Woe to them if they could feel my pain.
It would bring them to their knees just as it brought me to mine,
If only they could feel this pain.

Words fall from my mouth
Coated with a bitter tang.
I watch in satisfaction tinged with self disgust
As the blows land on you, one by one.
Each phrase burns in my throat
Through the honey coated pleasure
I receive when I speak them.
Like the cat of nine tails,
They rip pieces of your confidence away
With every stroke,
And I wield it with an expert hand.
Oh yes, such an expert hand...damn me.
And with every loud crack of the weapon
I wince at my own cruelty,
Even as you wince at the sting.
Yet I can’t seem to stop.
I hate myself for it,
But I find a massive attraction
To the limitless agony I can inflict in seconds.
I choose my words for their underlying truth.
I pick my daggers with care,
Throwing only the ones that will hurt the most
Because of their awful honesty.
What you fear, what you hate,
I turn it against you
Without hesitation.
And I feel only a mild regret
At the injury that lingers
Long after the sounds have faded.
I have perfected the art
Of using words this way.
And, I am proud of it.
I am proud, and full of self loathing.
What can I say?
This is who I am for now.
A blade hurling poet,
Singing ballads of woe to you,
Whispering them in your ear,
these songs that strike at your very core.
Standing back to admire my work
Only when all is said and done.
Pity I can’t at least enjoy it more.
But then, if I did,
What would I be?
Not human…Or perhaps,
Maybe then I would be human?
Truly human.

I live in my dreams,
and my dreams are my life,
busy and tumbled and peppered with strife.
But the moments of peace, smiles, and laughter,
make all of the sadness
worth what comes after.

I Am and I Am Not

I am not a happy person.
I am not one to think positive thoughts.
I am one who has seen many things,
And will see many more,
Whether I want to or no.
This knowing has aged me
And set me apart from others.

I am not a weak person, though.
I am not one to break before I bend.
I am one who has spent years in darkness,
And learned to see in, and even move,
The shadows that would have smothered me.
This ability has changed me
And given me the cleverness to thrive.

So I am a strong person.
I am one who has fought through the pain.
I am not one to reveal my scars,
And seek sympathy from those I detest,
Simply because they are there.
This courage has made me proud,
And able to weather the wars of life.

So I am a survivor.
I am one who has remade the shreds of what was.
I am not one who will give up what i've won,
And slink away without a fight,
Because the odds are against me.
This determination will keep me going.
And I will cling to what life i have,
Until there's nothing worth surviving for.

I am, and I am not.

A breakaway in the clouds,
A stunning flood of light.
Golden, pale, and cold.
Eyes water and blink
as confusion reigns supream
for a moment.
The sky...
With a smile take in
The brilliant Robin's Egg hue.
Sweet, clean, and clear.
A sight covered by dismal gray
for weeks on end.
Let yourself drown in it.
In the wonder
Of a blue sky in winter.

Pretty little black bird
Sitting in the grass,
Hopping to and hopping fro.
Red on your wings,
Warbling in the morning air.
How sweet you are.
Pretty little black bird.
Now sitting in the tree.


A grey and dismal morning dawns,
With clouds that drift by lazily.
They are as melancholy as I
And cast a dreary half light over all they touch.
Rain will come soon,
The air is laden with the moisture.
Is this spring?
I could hardly tell
What with the days still cold as fall.
How depressing to see
The bright yellow daffodils
Coated with glistening frost.
No it can’t be May already.
It feels more like March.
The lion has yet to leave
And leave a lamb in its place.

sleep, thou dost cover mine soul
in a blanket of well worn oblivion,
and in thy folds i dreamest
of the soft blackness of merciful apathy.
No longer careing,
no longer brooding on and on
in an endless wave of doubt and self loathing,
cover me sweet sleep.
Hold me to your breast
as mother would a child,
and whisper a chant of peace
that i drink in like a man dying of thirst.
Bless thou sweet sleep,
the last gift a man shall be granted
at the end of each day.

A MASK YOU WONT LOOK THROUGH

What do you see
When you look at me?
Big innocent eyes?
A full smiling mouth?
Do you see any further than that?
Have you ever thought to look?
No...
No i didn't think so.
You see my face,
But not what lies beneath it.
You've missed the tears in those big eyes.
You've missed the sad twist
In the corner of that smile
That curves my lips.
And perhaps
You chose to ignore
The cold bitterness
In the expression on my face.
But trust me it's there.
Hidden beneath the manic laughter,
and crazed cheerful smile.
I sigh.
No...You see nothing
In my face.
Nothing except what i offer up to you,
And you so readily accept it
Rather than ask me what's wrong.
You are blind to me.
Just as the world is blind to you.
How typical.
How perfect.


NIGHT SKIES

Ruby red
and burning blue
golden yellow
soft and true.
Swirling ribbons
diamond bright,
of slowly falling
cold moonlight.
The stars, like gems,
glint high above
in constellations
that we love.
Cast across
black velvet sky
their beauty makes
my spirit cry.

Empty eyes, empty soul
Half a heart, half a whole.
Distant thoughts and apathy,
Lacking life’s sweet energy.

Paths are stretching all around,
Questions, so many questions,
With answers that cannot be found.

I am here and I am there,
I am no- and everywhere.
Stretching wide, and stretching thin,
What once had ended
Now again
will begin.

All manner of spooky things happen
at night when the lights go out;
And I sit in the dark,
where I have become so comfortable
to cry my melancholy tears.
They flow down my cheeks
in a never ending stream
that runs for years.
When will these times
in purgatory end?
How long must I suffer indecision and confusion?
Is it fair to make me scream
and endless wail for mercy?
MERCY I cry to you!
What cold heart you have to deny me such simple things.
Now spare me the excuses,
I’ve heard them all before.
Am I simply insane then?
Give me proof to the opposite,
I beg you, please.
God save me, I am done.
I hear, and I see, and I feel,
but senses can be fooled,
Humanity is frail,
Trickery can be more readily accepted
than the most obvious of signs to the contrary.
So now comes the question:
Am I a fool, or are the horrors real?

What is this feeling?
This feeling of apathy?
Does this stem from Love?
Surely it must...
This sense of utter Lethargy,
so complete in me,
has made moving
and effort of Will,
one I'd rather not make.
But make it i must,
for i have not the
ability to sit and do nothing
as life moves on.
Even breathing-
an action once so thoughtless-
requires constant attention!
But what is the point?
breathing is an act of life,
and i fear i am dead without you.
My soul pines for your soul,
my heart for your heart,
and my body longs for the warmth
of your arms around me now.
But i am denied it all!
Oh,damn sweet love!.........
No...not love,
never should love be cursed.
Let ne'r a tongue again
utter those words.
Rather, let us damn
the most hated of enemies
that prevent sweet love
from blooming to its full.
Time...and distance.
How i loath and despise the two!
Oh, LOVE!
Were i free to move
as i Will at last,
i would fly to you
as if an angel's wings
were upon my back!
Only the winds of Heaven would
go faster than I.
And naught but death
could part me from your side.

A pretty dab of color,
A brilliant slashing line,
A moment caught forever
In this poem, this painting of words.
Which is mine.
A simple rhyming pattern
A flowing stream of verse
A beat to sway syllables to
In this poem, this painting of words
That is mine.



Dance round and round the lightening fork
As thunder claps a rhythm
And rain drops share their merry tunes
With fairy’s at our feet.
Hear the wind play his song
And bellow out his laugh,
As his playful fingers tug and yank
At our twirling skirts of stars.
A symphony of night begins
And we fuse our voice with it,
Reveling in the purest joy
Of nature and all its secrets.

Fleeting love

A single glance upon your face
cast me down in love.
I caught your eye and looked away,
lest you think me strange.
My heart is pounding madly,
as i secretly admire
what i know i cannot have.
How wondrous is this love of mine
for someone i just met.
But now 'tis time to move along,
and leave behind such beauty.
My eyes have too long lingered
on such a hopeless affection.
So praise be to God
for fleeting Love,
when true love cannot be had.

The Tears of Life:
Raindrops are a wonder.
They manage to pull a variety of emotions
from the idle observer.
Beautiful and saddening,
they are the tears of life.
When the water flows
whole ecosystems come to be.
Those dark swirling clouds up above
make way for an emerald spring.
That screaming thunder, terrible in its animosity,
hides the simple sound of children laughing
as they play in the puddles.
And if by some chance the sun should break through,
those raidrops turn to streaks of diamond,
alive with fire,
as they fall to the ground, sparkling with a living glee.
Yes, the raindrops are a wonder.
And so too is the storm itself that gives life,
as is the rainbow that follows with a promise.


Car Crash:
Deaf, Dumb, Blind to the World.
Time seems to slow to a crawl.
Too late did i see that pick up truck,
and too late did he see me.
I cant remember much,
not the color of the car, or the sound of screeching tires,
nor even the feel of flying through the air to land
on the pavement.
All i remember of that stupid day,
is the grill of the truck,
heading towards me.
I was following a friend,
across the highway.
ANd i didnt think to look both ways.
That one small mistake
was all it took.
Life is like that, you know?
Follow someone else, or someTHING else,
and forget to look for your own path,
Life will come along like that truck.
And it will run you over.

You poor SOB
Look what you’ve become
You’re not that goofy kid I once knew
And loved.
I remember you from when we were kids, your hair was blond,
And your face so gentle and kind.
You poor SOB,
Now I see you, and your hair is black, and your eyes are cold.
Look what you’ve become!
I cry in agony as I see you fall apart.
You had so much promise, and now I see your life turn to ash.
Your lips are pierced with long rings,
And you hold that cigarette of crack
To your lips with the ease
Of long practice.
I am ashamed, and I am sad.
My poor lost little one,
Now grown big and strong,
What has the world done to you,
You poor SOB…

Floating in a haze of warmth,
I watch you with our child.
You hold her in your arms as if she were
A fragile piece of glass.
Her little arms wave in the air,
And grasp at imaginary stars.
Her cooing laugh
Makes you smile,
And I smile as well,
Watching my baby moon orbiting around my sun.
You two are my world,
And I treasure you with all my heart

Misery desires its company
above that of all else.
But in a close second
rises apathy.
And from these two
depression multiplies
like a sickening plague on the soul.
I have caught this Hell-bent disease,
and it paints black my outlook on Life.
I seek solace now
in the darkness of night.
Withdrawn am i, from the world around me.
I lie in wait,
And, oh, how much easier it is to wait.
To sit and stare
at the blank white walls of my mind,
intentionally emptied of harrassing thoughts,
and images.
Now barren is my heart,
where once it was full of life and love.
You must think me a cowered,
and i myself agree.
I am a coward
to hide away and
seal off all forms of expression,
for fear that i shall drown in the surpressed tides of emotion.
But no matter what,
i cant find the courage
to emerge from my self-imposed
Isolation...

When the rain falls
my whole world stops,
and i listen
to those falling drops.
A gentle wind blows,
making trees sway,
and as i breath in
my cares melt away.
A fork of lightening
darts across the sky,
and thunder's clapping
makes my spirit fly.
spring is coming,
the signs are all around,
it's in the bird song
and the puddles on the ground.
The air is buzzing,
new life is on the way,
the grass is greening,
and the sun is warm today.

On the dark side of the moon
I am screaming for release
from this nightmare of mine.
Sitting in a crater
my voice is running out,
soon my bloody throat
will go mute.
Please, God, come and save me.
Silence my screams
and shut my open mouth.
Wipe the tears from my eyes
as you pull me to my feet.
Catch me when i stumble
on legs clumsy from disuse.
Walk with me,lead me,
hold me steady.
And smile at the look on my face, Lord,
when i see the light you pulled me into,
when i see you've brought me home
to Heavon.

IM sick of waiting

I am sick of waiting for the good times
That will never come on their own,
And sick of waiting for the mistakes I made
To correct themselves.
I’m sick of waiting for love to fall into my lap
Like a fairy tale dream come true.
I’m SO sick of waiting for people to prove worthy of trust
That I can’t give them anyway.
And I am SICK of waiting for my problems
To work themselves out,
Especially when I know they won’t.
God I’m sick and tired of waiting
For everything to just come to me.
I’ve BEEN waiting since I knew
How to think and remember what I thought.
But now I’m DONE.
I’m not waiting anymore.
Now I am going to do things.

Nature’s Magic

Silver brooks whisper of forgotten dreams
As they run through forest and vale,
Moonlight sends down mild beams,
To listen to their varied tale.

The nightingale sings sweet songs,
So fireflies may dance,
And in this time dies all past wrongs,
So peace will have its chance.

The Wind will stir and add his touch,
And trees will sway along,
Adding in their grace and such,
While wishing Night more long.

In this gentle world we'll sleep,
‘Till morning doves do wake
While praying that the magic keeps,
So we may see it as Dawn breaks.

Bitter Thoughts.
A wish fullfilled
but filled with ashes
pure and white, but sweet:

A love for me
and me alone
with one i cannot meet.

How cruel the world
this world i love
which would deny my dreams

and keep me from
the things i want,
by ripping them at the seams

I feel like sobbing,
but you already know that.
Great lakes of tears
gather in my eye.
And while they gather
my soul is screaming,
as it has been for years,
tormenting me with a banshee's cry.

Ive been in pain
and all alone,
as a jagged hole grows
within my barren heart.
Happiness has become a dream
that's fading with the sun,
and in my eyes i hope it shows
it's you who ripped me apart.

Hard Question:

What gives a thing its meaning? Its worth?
Does it come into our world
ready-made for its only purpose?
Are all inventions in existance
simply ideas floating in space
along with all the ones that
have yet to be?
Necesity is the mother of invention,
so does necesity gove a thing its worth?
Or is it people?
There is not a thing in this world
that we dont give meaning to.
Our very existance gives meaning to the world.
WE are the meaning of life
because we give life a meaning!

come run with me,
hand in hand,
to the sweet world Ireland,
where soft hills an acheing green,
sparkle with a hidden stream.
The moonlight falls like liquid pearls,
and we two swim thorugh milky swirls,
laughing loudly with delight,
we watch the faery wings take flight.\

The Sun chases Shadow
from a lake of startling blue,
to play among the deep green boughs
of forests that 'round the lake do grow.

But tired, Sun glows red
and begins to seek the ground,
and Shadow grows in Light's absence
to watch the Sun turn the lake crimson.

Shadow's friend Sun now sleeps,
and soft night is made to wake.
Moonlight shimmers on the water
and comes to be with night swelled Shadow.

Until the break of day
Moonlight dances with Shadow,
But when Sun begins the morning
Shadow will leave to play games with Sun

Angel with the broken wings
sitting on the ground,
halo softly fadeing 'way
you cant make a sound.

I see how you watch the sky,
the image breaks my heart,
for i as well long to fly,
and it's too late to start.

So angel i will sit with you,
and then we two shall cry
over what's denied us both:
great wings to soar up high

Theres an angel softly singing
prayers in my head
calling me to God
as im sleeping in my bed

and angel i can hear you
so i will hum along
feeling safe because i know
im with God where i belong.

The Sun shall rise,
painted red by my mind,
from the ash of my soul.

Like a phoenix on the wind
bringing light to the shadows
of the cold darkened moon

where i wait in the black
talking to the stars
for a hundered empty years.

It will burn away the hate
and will melt away the cold
until i am but ashes in ashes.

And from the ashes
I am born again,
purified by the Sun.

Time, what a prcious gift
we all wish we had more of.
More time to do things
or say things....
It's scarey to think that
we all have a set amount of time
in wich we must live our lives.
Sometimes we only have moments.
It's hard to stand the sight of the effects of
Time
on those we love.
It's like watching an hour glass that's slowly
running out of sand.
And as much as we'd like to,
we can't pick it up and turn it over again.
And when the last grain has drained,
Time's up.
The End, Goodbye.
No second chances at Life.
We all wish we had more Time
when the clock stops ticking,
but you dont always get what
you wish for...

Anthem for the Downed Woman

Ill never cry for you,
throw stones and beat me if you will,
but ill never cry for you.
INsult me and degrade me,
You'll never make me cry.
Smash my dreams and drown my hope,
but ill never spill a tear for you.
Treat me like a slave, WHIP ME!
my eyes will stay as dry as the desert.
Steal my heart, then rip it up,
my eyes wont even water.
Do it all and so much more,
But ill be damned to Hell and dead,
Before a tear,
you'll see me shed.
Ill NEVER cry for you!

That which does not kill me
makes me stronger.
but the time it takes to heal
each time gets longer.
with angry burns my skin is marred,
what did not kill me
left me scarred.

WHAT IS IT LIKE?
What is it like,
i wonder,
to stand alone out of choice?
to beat the hand that offers you help?
what is it like,
to wish someone dead?
what is it like,
to ignore the truth in favor of denial?

what is it like,
i wonder,
to be filled with constant hate?
to look with perpetual cynisism?
what is it like,
to harbor endles grudges?
what is it like,
to have anger be your most used emotion?

what is it like,
i wonder,
to be unable to let go of past wrongs?
to gain pleasure from other peoples pain?
what is it like,
to believe in nothing?
not God, government, or your self?
what is it like,
to feel all that at once?

I pity that person.