Meeting her Felt like a walk through the forest Initially Ever so wary Ever so ginger With every step forward. But the deeper I go The more it drew me in
The beauty of a million Dew drops, Mushrooms, Sprouts, And Caterpillars. Every little thing. Like a forest grows, She grew on me. Now I love the forest, And she loves I Forever Until our love may lie.
We all treasure the virtue of honesty, And any without are faced with ignominy. This can easily tire one of us Enough to make costs disastrous Because this mere use of sophistry Could grow and consume the best of me, As more and more people believe me to be Made up of everything wrong you say of me. The more and more I begin to believe And slowly the old me starts to leave, Not only the old me, but my old friends too As I isolate myself from others like you. After all of this you have to believe, I, seemingly free, still belong to you.
You will always hold a special place in my heart and you will always be on my mind And a piece of you will always be in all I do I’ll think about you as I gaze into the heavens above Ill hear your voice echo, speaking only with glee about each and every constellation. I’ll think about you whenever I scoop and pull my hair up, only to remember your hair ties no longer live on my wrist. I’ll think about you every time I hear the strum of a guitar and as I wait for you to begin your serenade. I’ll think about you every time I feel the gentle purr of a sleeping cat And I’ll see your loving smile glow within my mind, And while we shall be the best of friends, I’ll never forget the comfort of our love.
Seeing life through rose-coloured glasses is seeing life in bright, beautiful colours My life has always been perceived through rose-coloured glasses The pretty sheen of my life through my ostentatious wardrobe the illusion of my hair and makeup concealing the real “I’m doing wonderful, living a perfect life in a rose luster” When the glasses fall, when the rose fades away The wonder of my life fades a monochrome cacophony of endless cries and silent screams Alone for one moment All the nightmares peek out from behind the beautiful flowers cascading down the wall My life, my love, my mind… Oh, how my mind grows stronger Once my closest friend, now my biggest enemy As every week passes the rose-coloured glasses get thicker The view on the other side gets darker A vibrant, pulchritudinous landscape, crumbling into the darkness
You awake from a dream
Adorned with a soft smile, it would seem
And in your mind you can see
There’s no endless cacophony
Time had blended into a blur
Of things that once were
Your heart feels warm like steam
You come together at the seams
When things come to a cease
You finally feel at peace
Joke’s on me,
You were right.
Joke’s on me,
I’m at rock bottom.
Joke’s on me,
I hate me too.
Joke’s on me,
I regret being born.
But years later,
I have control.
Years later,
I now know.
Joke’s on you,
you were wrong.
Joke’s on you,
I’m happy now.
Joke’s on you,
It was about you.
Joke’s on you,
YOU regret being born.
The caged bird wonders day and night
what he’d done to deserve his plight
all alone for all his day
why must he be locked away
The free bird scared of the unknown
leaves the caged bird to be alone
he flies away and never tries
to ask the caged bird why he cries
The caged bird never understood
for all he tried to do was good
from others he’s not the same
so they all made him tame
The free bird laughs and gawks
at the bird who can’t walk
he keeps the key under his wing
and doesn’t do anything
The caged bird lie in his cell
becoming more and more unwell
and tears have filled his eyes
for no one really hears his cries.
Green, green, green,
what a pretty scene.
You look outside.
You gaze with pride.
Earth, filled with life,
covered in green.
You feel alive
in the terrene.
The little frog wakes in the morn.
Spring is here and flowers are born.
Now is time to throw away
all things that give disarray.
The little frog dusts the shelves.
The pile of laundry in which he delves,
he will now wash and clean.
The little frog turns around,
the cleanest nest he’s ever seen.
He’s found the things he’s need to found.
Now everything is sparkling
and the little frog’s ready for spring!
How sorrowful skies
and sorrowful cries
from sorrowful lies
by sorrowful guys
that sorrowful tries
for sorrowful prize.
The sorrowful guise
with sorrowful pries
and sorrowful eyes
have sorrowful demise.
Only two weeks left to go.
If some day I were to decay