WE HURT

Words are words

Love is not love

But words

Because otherwise the word would

Not be

And I want to always be

better

Not bitter, and how close two words

Can be

And it’s a testament that with our actions

We hurt

We beat the life of life

And we are left with words

Enemies of our future

Friends of our foes

We hurt

We smile at good but too much

Isn’t

Too much is just anger without words

Words with anger we can’t forget

But Love is not love

We so quickly forget

Only to remember the bruises

Our hearts have endured

So easyly we speak

So easy we ignore the pleading

We just want to be good

We hurt

But what comes out?

Actions without words

Anger

When it takes over you

You forget that we are human

And that’s no excuse and we should

Be inspired by a helping hand but it

Comes only every so often

We are in crime rather than in love

We are hurting rather than loving

And so that is why Love is just another

Erect word

One that has to be spoken plenty to be remembered

Hate, Anger, and Crimes are not forgotten so easily

You see, we don’t need to be reminded that

Cruelty exist

We have been steeped in other peoples

Anger, that we can’t forget

We have been prosecuted

For doing, sometimes nothing

We hurt 

We no longer do things out of kindness

We are too afraid, scared children

To want to make a change

“Being human” shouldn’t be an excuse to bruise

But a reason to see humanity and

As fragile as we are, we forget

And so we sing our pains

We write them

And we paint them

We hide them too

Too hard to bear

We hurt

And sure there is beauty, even in pain

There is beauty in the darkness

But pain

We still die in the end sure

We end

But paths marked with blood are lying there

In the walks of all humanity

And we shed them still through remembrance and

Through our actions

And Anger

A character in humanity

And there is no wrong in anger

But the actions, caused by fear right?

And why can’t we just breath instead we

Break

We should have a place within ourselves 

To protect our cries

But instead we make others cry for us

We hurt.

Playground In Her Head

It is a ticket, one way
To some one I used to know and
It is where the sun and the moon meet
And hold hands and laugh
And sometimes cry
Oh why? Did I see what's here come near
Or am I some kind of yoyo
Blue, or grey discolored sunrise
And old boxes of sand castles in a sand- less beach and an empty goal
With nothing more to say, it's the wind I reach for
It's the wind I dreamt of many years ago and the wind I get and maybe it is my way of living, lined up with a dread of
Am I gone? Or are you here and I am somewhere else? Or are you just, you
Sketched out in some else's canvas
Where the colors once again, meet
Like two children holding hands and how he forgets that playground in her head and it's burn, burning like fire
This story is to be told
When is no longer there. Oh.
Because the wind can't be seen unless
You really start live
Can you feel? The wind that is.
Among the trees
Someone I know is waiting under its leaves
And it's patient eyes can only make you feel
Like it's okay to walk by
And live.