The humble blade
So comforting, yet so destructive
It stares at u questioningly
As if knowing your pain
The blade made these scars
No not you
These humble scars
That grace your skin
Reminding u of your flaws
Your power
Your weakness
Your strength
Love them of hate them they remain
Never to come off no matter how much u plead
u know u should turn your back on the blade
But it stares at u
Humbly not judging
Unlike everything else
The feeling is sharp but the reward is better
The feeling in knowing that u are no longer numb
That u can feel and control
Have real control of your emotions
The humble blade
So comforting, yet so destructive
Is your only friend
So comforting, yet so destructive
It stares at u questioningly
As if knowing your pain
The blade made these scars
No not you
These humble scars
That grace your skin
Reminding u of your flaws
Your power
Your weakness
Your strength
Love them of hate them they remain
Never to come off no matter how much u plead
u know u should turn your back on the blade
But it stares at u
Humbly not judging
Unlike everything else
The feeling is sharp but the reward is better
The feeling in knowing that u are no longer numb
That u can feel and control
Have real control of your emotions
The humble blade
So comforting, yet so destructive
Is your only friend
When I hear u voice the birds all hush thier noise.
but now when I see your face with that glowing light.
I dont know if I should laugh of cry.
When I think of the good times we had
I wish thoses time could have last.
I try to keep telling my self it will be ok
but then I think how much longer will I be able to go this way.
I wish to hear u laugh again and to tell u how much I love and adore you.
However I know it wont ever come because
it might be to late to.
If your happy then I am happy
if your sad then I will grieve as well
u might have moved on but I will
never forget the great things u have done for me
no matter how long I live
I will allways-allways
love you.
look in the mirror please
if u dont u wont find the beuty
thats hiding in you
u say your ugly u cry all night
u slam the door on my face one night
when i tried helping u out
look in the mirror i know u are beutiful u just got to beileve in your self.
but u probaly wont why cant u see the beuty thats waiting to arrive
the boys would want u oh carolyn i hope u relize that .
this is no joke u are beutiful in my eyes but in yours ur a monster
why cant u see what eye see
i hope someday u will believe me.
if u dont u wont find the beuty
thats hiding in you
u say your ugly u cry all night
u slam the door on my face one night
when i tried helping u out
look in the mirror i know u are beutiful u just got to beileve in your self.
but u probaly wont why cant u see the beuty thats waiting to arrive
the boys would want u oh carolyn i hope u relize that .
this is no joke u are beutiful in my eyes but in yours ur a monster
why cant u see what eye see
i hope someday u will believe me.
Solitude,
Somewhere in my mind.
Where I can rest my head,
And let go of all the pain.
Back on my feet,
To make my place again.
Recharge my soul,
So I can live once more.
What happened to being a child?
When getting high meant too much sugar.
When breaking the rules was staying up past bedtime.
When saying "I love you",
Was only intended for your mom,
And the pressure of it never set upon you..
Looking up at the clouds,
I only see dark gray.
When they use to be white,
And full of life.
And I'd pick out shapes and smile.
Now it's dark.
Only dark,
And I feel I've lost my way.
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake..-"
Die? Before I wake..Sounds good to me.
Somewhere in my mind.
Where I can rest my head,
And let go of all the pain.
Back on my feet,
To make my place again.
Recharge my soul,
So I can live once more.
What happened to being a child?
When getting high meant too much sugar.
When breaking the rules was staying up past bedtime.
When saying "I love you",
Was only intended for your mom,
And the pressure of it never set upon you..
Looking up at the clouds,
I only see dark gray.
When they use to be white,
And full of life.
And I'd pick out shapes and smile.
Now it's dark.
Only dark,
And I feel I've lost my way.
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake..-"
Die? Before I wake..Sounds good to me.
Our teacher's multi-talented.
He plays gitaar and sings.
He paints impressive pictures
and can juggle twenty rings.
He dances like an expert,
he can mambo, tap and waltz.
He's also quite a gymnast,
doing airborne somersaults.
He's something of a swimmer.
He's a champion at chess.
It's difficult to find a skill
that he does not possess.
He speaks a dozen languages.
He's great at racing cars.
He's masterful at fighting bulls,
and studying the stars.
He's good at climbing mountains.
He can wrestle with a bear.
The only thing we wish he'd learn
is how to comb his hair.
He plays gitaar and sings.
He paints impressive pictures
and can juggle twenty rings.
He dances like an expert,
he can mambo, tap and waltz.
He's also quite a gymnast,
doing airborne somersaults.
He's something of a swimmer.
He's a champion at chess.
It's difficult to find a skill
that he does not possess.
He speaks a dozen languages.
He's great at racing cars.
He's masterful at fighting bulls,
and studying the stars.
He's good at climbing mountains.
He can wrestle with a bear.
The only thing we wish he'd learn
is how to comb his hair.
I bought a pet banana
and I tried to teach him tricks,
but he wasn't any good at
catching balls of fetching sticks.
He could never catch a Frisbee,
and he wouldn't sit of speak,
though we practiced every afternoon
and evening for a week.
He refused to shake of wave of crawl
of beg of take a bow,
and I tried, but couldn't make him bark
of get him to meow.
He was terrible at playing dead.
He couldn't jump a rope.
When he wouldn't do a single trick
I simply gave up hope.
Though I liked my pet banana,
I returned him with regret.
Boy, I sure do hope this watermelon
makes a better pet.
and I tried to teach him tricks,
but he wasn't any good at
catching balls of fetching sticks.
He could never catch a Frisbee,
and he wouldn't sit of speak,
though we practiced every afternoon
and evening for a week.
He refused to shake of wave of crawl
of beg of take a bow,
and I tried, but couldn't make him bark
of get him to meow.
He was terrible at playing dead.
He couldn't jump a rope.
When he wouldn't do a single trick
I simply gave up hope.
Though I liked my pet banana,
I returned him with regret.
Boy, I sure do hope this watermelon
makes a better pet.