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And it is within ourselves that we see What colours we be They change, as with the moon and sun Tonight is dark, I turn and run Tomorrow, Will it be grey. A slightly more appealing day....
There's a monster in the mirror. Looking back at me. It's eyes locked on mine. Refusing to break free. There's a monster in the mirror. It's gruesome beyond compare.
I don't want to disappear. Like I was never here. I want for you to see. To understand me. To have your attention. Gives the best reaction. I love that emotion. The spike, the rush.
It's dark, yet a chill and spray from the sea before me lights up my eyes. It beckons me. I walk down. Past the sun loungers, away from the restaurants.
It's times like these that we find ourselves. It's times like these that make you want to stand up. It's times like these that you want to scream. It's times like these that I need you.
Take it or leave it is the theme of the day Give and take but give is always my way I want more than I get and I want it now.
My words have never been many My thoughts may never be known How am I to read emotion When i know not my own The living can say they understand But little do they do The world cannot...
The bars of sunlight shine through gaps in the trees, I'm crunching through the orange, red and brown of the fallen autumn leaves.
You often stare down my way As if it is you're trying to say Well maybe it isn't best this way Maybe this is how it's done Maybe this is supposed to be fun Am I the only one.
There are always these dark drowsy drunken days that make you feel like the world out there is nothing but a lost barren wasteland. And the world inside you is nothing better either.
Is this fate, Or is this love. Is this real, Or a gift from above. Is this destiny, Or is this perfection. Is this true, Or just small affection. Is this life, Or is this your heart.
Ask why the monk hides in mountains deep Secluded from desire, baring pain through unbound feet. Or give a drunken bum a dollar and ask him to tell you her name.
An empty screen, A full keyboard. An thoughtless mind, No poems stored. Rhymes go by, You watch them flow. Poems of magic, Yet none to go. A full keyboard, An empty screen.
Why is the card in games, that can be anything number or color or thing you want it to be, called a wild card.
I saw the little paw print and underneath it said... "Start composing.' What does this mean.
The end of me, the end of you. Ill probably just hand you, a menu.
If the world was ours, What would you do with it. See the Milky Way, Take it for a spin 'round the galaxies And what would you say. But in reality, You just stay away..
I scraped the inside of my hand coming down to xeno, I guess I grabbed a fucking branch the wrong way or something.
Imagine waking up but not being able to see Imagine waking up and not being able to breathe Imagine your imagining a plate with something to eat Imagine that in this life you one day will be set...
In the dark of the night There is a tiny shimmer of light It shines so bright I can't help but keep it in sight It's a light so brilliant and white I do not fear, I know everything will be...
I felt the hurt embedded in the hills of his eyes. Things were getting better but I was feeling bitter. He was that sour taste that would always linger in the halls of this empty home around winter.
A pen and paper. Words in my head. Hours sitting there. And not a single. Word written. I'm losing it. My mind is dulling. Loosing its shape. My imagination. Lost its color. Seeping from my heart.
I have nothing interesting to say. The words are dormant today. I have nothing true or profound. The words have gone to ground. I shall remain quiet and still. Let my mind quietly refill.
Letters left unopened, Rocks that are left unturned, In life there's times to leave things be, In life, there are lessons we must learn.