I feel so conflicted
And yet so in love
But am I just afflicted
When push comes to shove
I can't say it out loud
I can't speak what I mean
Maybe I'm too proud
To ever come clean
I don't want to hurt
Either myself or you
You wouldn't be the first
That I've shown my colors to
But will you be the last
And perhaps be the one
To acknowledge my past
And show me how it's done
Can I forgive myself
For the hurt I will cause
Or will I keep running
While you try to cut your loss

It’s dark, and
The moon is gone
But pitch black
Lends light to the stars
Just like wind
Makes trees dance

We wouldn’t love warmth
If it was never cold
We’d never be brave
If we didn’t have fears
And we’d never love
If we weren’t scared of being alone

My soul is bare...
there is nothing left, not a single drop
to burst into a fountain of magic.
There is nothing,
no fantasy sublime with which to enchant.
My words have failed me—
fled from my mind into
darkness.
All that I own are
the little fancies—
sweet, wispy dreams
that elude my grasp...
and gone are the days that held my clearest thoughts.
Deep is the cavern where the
lost have fallen.
I am left with only a prayer,
heartfelt for its vagueness,
a bare offering of my soul

The sylven waste lies cold, no sound it makes
In stony vales, seems light hath found no stay
Then dawn with rosy-colored fingers breaks
Upon a land ‘fore dipped in hazy gray

Then stabs the pinks, the reds, colors of dawn
As expert warriors sparring in a fight
Oh Birds! Oh light! Oh dawn! The morn doth yawn
And rise to chase away the ink of night

And on this field of battle comes the sun
That fire of fires, pure seed of purest heat
To look upon a story, ceaseless spun
And leap from day to day new worlds to greet

The American colonies surely suffer
A most unjust oppression.
Taxes come and taxes are rougher,
Still no representation.

Their darkest moment rises,
When war and death loom near.
Beneath despotism’ devises
They still refuse to adhere.

A group of men take charge
You surely know their names.
They create a nation, Oh so large,
Where Freedom’s scepter reigns.

In a patriot’s house together
Meeting in the cover of night
These diverse men do gather
To discuss the American Right.

The music sings
Tugs at my heart
If I don't dare to join
It'll tear me apart
To express oneself is freedom
Though it may come of pain
And the shelter that music provides
Is like an umbrella in the rain

Seems like everyone's
shallow these days;
busy tickling o'er stuff that
doesn't matter much:
dark, vile humor and
even darker smiles,
plastered on broken souls
that forgot the joys of
childhood.

Why is our laughter so
heavy all of a sudden?
Like everyone finds this pain
amusing.
I find it curious that
for whatever reason,
I am least happy when I'm
laughing.

What is missing here?

There was a wood my family owned
I oft went there when I was small;
Ne’er went I there, save once, alone—
Down to those trees so straight and tall.

Upon that day, I went to see
The creek, and lush green sorrel growing
How delightful it was to be
There without my family knowing.

I sat beneath a spreading pine,
In deep thought, I ate my sorrel,
Suddenly the blackberry vines
Were wet upon the un-mown hill.

I was blessed with two left feet
Trip over my own toes
But when I hear that bass-line beat
I feel like I should dance

Typically not a graceful girl
I have been known to fall
Sometimes get dizzy when I twirl
Yet still I want to dance

I feel the music in my bones
Calling across the floor
I rise and fall and sway with soul
While now I try to dance

On my toes, suspended I move
I reach, and leap with grace
Believing I have found my groove
Finally I can dance

Everything is
Sexualized
Nothing
Intellectualized
Time
spent usefully
is
Marginal at best
Our kids are
Patronized
Pressured
But rest assured
Obsessions are healthy
In our eyes
Normal
Incrementally brainwashed by
What's cool
We sizzle, and
Burn
Our stomachs
Churn
Over a man, a
Fool
Our obsession is schooled
Celebrities are
Hot
But we are
Not
Unless hours are spent
Our sister's clothes lent
We eat less, we