Ink-is-blood

The whimsical games of our youth, Now seem dull and slightly uncouth. What once brought such joy, Like a dearly wanted Christmas toy, Now ceases to excite the mature mind, Who's eyes behold gifts of a different kind. Romance, and drama, heartbreak and pain, Nothing is lost, yet still nothing is gained. But, still this is all our hearts now yearn, The innocence of childhood no longer burn, On the fires of our mind's eye, The one that's now unfocused on treasures that lie, Embedded deep in the depths of your imagination and a sandbox, But now focuses on ridding that sand from your socks. As the sands drop to the time turners botto

I was reclining leisurely back into the stale smelling carpeted chair that occupied one corner of my compartment.  As the train sped forward I watched the scenes flash by the window. Sometimes it appeared as nothing was moving at all, but now and again a nearby stalling car or an oddly shaped tree would break up the monotony of vague flashing green. I soon let the temptress sleep take over me, bathing me in the perfumes of the night. At least there was no vague flashing green in my dreams. I awoke with a start to the sound of silence sweat drenching my body. Odd dreams I was cursed with. I gently let my muscles relax and my nerves ease, sli

When you stab me I still bleed, I still breathe, when comes the need. But despite these things, All the while the pendulum swings. The grounds below me the sky's above me, As far as the human I can see, Let it be, C'est la vie. And all the while the pendulum swings. It lowers sinister in the light. Despite all the things that are going right. The earth may seem still intact, But there unseen lies a crack, Cause by some trifle act. I'm still confused of certain things, And all the while the pendulum swings. My Comforter still rules the skies, Humans around me still utter lies, It's all painted there in those blue eyes, The

Reach for the stars is what they always seem to say, But for some damn reason I can only reach those stars half way. As Nick Schwartz would kindly say, I can't do anything more than in a half assed way. Will dreams I have ever come true without drive? And how the hell am I supposed to survive, If I don't know how to make the dive, Or how to strive? If life is slipping through my grasp, And I can't get up off my lazy ass, How can I pass? When the life I want needs a high resumé, And I can barely claim my name, Without shame, How can I learn determination? Is hypocrisy my damn damnation? And how the hell can I reach the nation,