Don’t tell me what I do is wrong, you’d never try it anyway.
Don’t try to teach me how you think, I don’t care what you’ll say.
If I had to live a life like your’s I’d lose my mind within a day.
If you really want to help someone then try a different way.
I don’t care about your sermons, about your common bloody sense.
I don’t care how you choose to live your life, your sensible pretense.
Just leave me be, I’m happy here, where my mind and I still play.
I’ll let you be and let you live when and where ever you want to stay.
And here, in contrast to the previous piece is something more positive in nature, I’m not all doom and gloom, I like to strike a healthy balance of all the main mood groups (although this isn’t always feasible; oh well).
For all things
For all things, a time must come
For it matters not who lost or won
For all those things we might have said
For all the blood that we have shed
For songs and rhymes and stories penned
It matters not, for all things must end
For all things there is a place
For everyone who runs this race
For every life, be it long or brief
For every smile or tear of grief
For everyone who plays their part
Who finds in life a counterpart
For all things are joined as one
For every voice a song is sung
For every heart that lost it’s way
For every soul set free to play
For we are all made of light and dreams
No matter how cold the darkness seems.
I wrote this poem not for anyone who has offended me, nor for those who might. I suppose it’s just an expression of the kind of internal mental pressures that tend to build up and an exercise in filing them in a safe location.
I just don’t want to hear it, it’s never what I need.
I just don’t want to see you, and all your selfish greed.
I just don’t need your whining and your constant derogation.
I just don’t think that I can stand the endless aggravation.
I just don’t want to hear this now, the insults and the lying.
I just don’t think that I can take another damn day’s crying.
I just don’t want to take this, now I know I’m gonna break.
I just don’t think you’re worthy of the life I’m gonna take.
“what are you?” the people asked.
“I am me” I answered simply.
“but what do you like?” they continued to pry.
“what does it matter?” I openly asked.
“what do you do then?” the crowd implored.
“whatever I like” I replied as I left.
We all paint our faces, to hide so no-one knows.
we all dress up so pretty, and hope the pain just goes.
we all with eager footsteps chase the same idyllic goal.
we all pretend through weeping eyes as we slowly lose our soul.
The biggest lie I ever tell is simply ‘I’m okay’.
the smile I paint across my face to keep me lying every day.
the smiles and friendly gestures of the other’s painted grins.
the sick and bitter contents of their thinly veiled sins.
In a world so connected we are now, more than ever, utterly alone. We search google for answers from total strangers, we seek acceptance from others based on trivial interests rather just being the people we are. It’s easier to post online than to use the same phone to just hear a real voice or go for simple walk and just talk nonsense and get it off your chest. This world is more connected than ever and yet still we couldn’t be more distant.
There are those who live their lives through the camera, as though a life isn’t real unless every frame is documented for the global audience; There are those whose camera shields them from responsibility, another person being beaten, bloodied and helpless and yet the phones are used to record the event rather than to call for help.
We make ourselves connected across countries, even oceans, but never try to connect with a person sitting in the same room. Our connections keep us in touch while driving us apart.