Every Time With The Same BrushEvery time with the same brushThis girl paints so many strokesEach one speaking of emotionsLouder than the words she wroteSo where does the magic lie,Allowing this girl's mood to swing?Is it in the paint or the colours,The feeling of release it brings?She lets go of those emotionsThat are too painful to expressThe open ear of a loved oneNow an empty white canvasCathartic is the processWith her dainty little strokesThick layers of paint will take usTo land's nobody else knowsNow she paints with love for usAnd happiness in her heartThe trees, the flowers, the sunsetThe smiles, the eyes, the starsEvery time with same brushJust different colours and shadesAs the white canvas disappearsHer negative thoughts begin to fade
History Is Never Made By Those Who BehaveWe are taught of former gloriesThe burden of our historyWeighs heavy on infant shouldersAs it does our enemiesBut I feel safe and protectedOn this the day of the MoonUnlike the remaining six daysWhen impending horror consumesWind chill woes on the moors this mornFreedom spoke in a foreign tongueI did not understand her chantsPercussion did not help her songThe stench of death, the drums of warIn time with the beat my heart gaveHistory is never writtenBy the flocks that choose to behaveSo raise hell but come togetherUnite as we are all the sameKeep the lion's heart within youYour fiery temper learn to tameProject your positivityOnto those you cannot abideLove those who have come to despise youAnd they'll learn to love you in timeLadies down all of your weaponsGentlemen surrender your armsWe will keep calm and carry onWar is nothing more than self harmOur safe word will be "unity"Just three syllables from releaseSave lives with the words "I love yo
My Heart's Moth DanceI always loved,Butterflies.I wanted them toBe born in my stomach,Unexpectedly.I wanted to feel,Their fragile wingsFlutter inside.And so they did.But they were too frightenedto escape.My voice became thin air.And I,wanted my heart to flySo it could tell you...That you're the meaning,of love.Hope.Life.Light.I never really understoodMoths.They were like my words,Tripping overIn my voice,Stuttering and stammering,But you came along,And mothsborn in my heart,Pushed all my words,Out of my mouthIn rambles ofBeauty.You have shown me,How special moths are,Your eyes shone the lightAnd my heart becameThe moththat erratically dancedto yours...I feel the butterflies inside,but the moths give my heart wings..x..
You Are Now GonePerhaps you were my oxygenAs without you I cannot breatheStars reminded me of your eyesMy love, why did you have to leave?So out of the blue you left meIn to black my fragile heart brokeA thousand lost words were exchangedYet not one single word was spokeI'm focusing on my time pieceI've given you peace for some timeThough love is clearly black and whiteFriendship is harder to defineIt's the shades of grey that haunt meThose seeds of love we didn't sowThe memories we never madeOur bloom that has refused to growThe pressure I feel without youThis volcano shall soon eruptBut I will implode silentlyThis was no ordinary loveYou were my best friend; a tonicAn antidote to all that was wrongYou said you would never leave meYour silence says you are now gone
We Are Already GhostsHeart rate monitors showMinimal signs of lifeBut no more and no lessThan of a parasiteFeeding from a life-forceThat's greater than itselfWe are the lost childrenIn need of some helpX-ray images showThe absence of a heartIncapable of loveWe are ready to departAll these forgotten girlsAnd all these forgotten boysTogether we will feelThe emptiness, the voidAs MRI scans showWe have beautiful mindsJust no memory recallOf any happy timesIt's too little, too lateThese words are verboseWe've long since departedWe are already ghosts
The Stalker's PathYou allowed my presenceTo be your maladySo fragile in essenceWith vulnerabilityThe last of the lettersHas finally been sentNo newspaper cuttingsJust these feelings to ventAlone in my abodeAt the dining room tableI relinquish romanceTo the realms of fableThe time of no replyHolds sway over my lifeFork for food, spoon for sauceRedundant is my knifeArrogant ignoranceHave you forgot my nameWatch from your widow's walkAs you drench me in shameOut to sea, out of sightYou cast my memoryI'll run aground on the shoresOf your inequity
The Artist and The ModelShe posed for the artist to paint herShe sat so perfectly stillA tremble came across her bodyThat was way beyond her will"For that, my dear" said the artist"I'll paint your blue eyes shutForever you'll be cast into darknessBefore you return to dust"The subject, the model, the ladyLaughed and was not so fussed"You think you have such power, my dearIn the stroke of your brush?Don't forget it is I, your subjectThat brings beauty to your pieceWithout me you would be nothing;A lush drunk on self belief" With that the artist grabbed his paletteFerociously began to paintTill fatigue encapsulated his bonesAnd he began to feel faint"How dare you bring into questionThis masterpiece, my life's workFrom my hand to brush to canvasMy unique view of this world""Artist you are not so specialWith strokes many could makeWhere as my beauty is as uniqueAs a falling snowflakeAnd it is I that fell from HeavenOnto the blank canvas EarthAs potent as God's silenceAnd as
A Troubled 15 Year OldFather has a lady friendOf ill gotten gainsSells her body for moneyA handful of changeThere will be no benefitFor my familyOn hotel bedside tablesYou'll find our moneyMother has a habitLeaves needles lying aroundDown the side of the sofaWhere infant hands slide downHoping to find some moneyA handful of changeA perfect family portraitAnd I am the frameA troubled fifteen year oldBorn under a bad signI learnt like most childrenTo cry before I smiledIn time my smile will fadeThough the tears will remainI fear for the things I will loseBefore my family change