Voices In Your HeadPeople tell you you're crazy,If you a hear a voice or two.People wonder if these voices are hazy,Or if they tell you what to do.The truth is everyone hears voices,Not just a select "special" few.Every person has a conscious,And they speak to us without much ado.These voices tell us right from wrong,In the guise of a loved one.It could be your mother whispering an encouraging song,Or your best friend telling you when to move on.It's a comfort to know,Someone is always with you.So when your feeling down and alone,Remember the voices you carry were once true.The voices in your head are of those you knew or know,Some long since passed.They are not a replacement for people,So be sure to treasure the moments with the friends you catch.For me, the voice in my head is that of my significant otherA voice so beautiful I couldn't bare to behold,Without feeling elated be in love with heavens daughter.I hear this voice during every event that unfolds.I am lost
Love: 1 Half DisasterHurt:Pain from memories, pain from love, pain from being hated, pain from loved ones, pain from abuse and suffering.I am terribly hurt, terribly injured and I can't find solace....Trapped:Trapped in memories, trapped in the past, trapped in a room, trapped in loves deadly hold, trapped in despair and depression.I am trapped here by my wife's love and there is no way out.Insanity:Insane from my loneliness, insane from my struggles, insane from my depression, insane from my coping, insane from my unanswered questions and forever lingering doubt/paranoia.I have lost my mind, lost my personality and fallen into insanity in pursuit of the one woman I love.Love:Pain, entrapment, insanity.Love can destroy and rebuild, and it is what I need most now.
I Am A Man Defined By StruggleI am the little boy who was hit for everything.Taught to fear the people you love, and never talk.To never trust a soul, no matter what.I am the little boy who hid in a dusty corner downstairs during a thunder storm,With no one but a small white, blue and pink stuffed horse for comfort.Taught to deal with my fears when I was scared, alone.I am the young boy who was beaten until his arms and back were red,Tears streaming down my face, but no sounds escaped my lips.Taught never to ask for it to stop, or the beating would be worse.I am the young boy who was forced to stay inside.Alone in my room I cried softly.Taught to be a loner.I am the young boy who was teased at yelled at for crying.Teased by his peers, and called a baby by his mother.Taught to never cry or show emotion.I am the young boy....who was touched...Touched in a way I was too young and innocent to understand...Taught to hate human contact and never accept even a hug.I am the young boy who actually "ta
Into The Dark NightIt's dark. Pitch black darkness has engulfed every being in the vicinity. A lonely orange light glows in the distance, seemingly like the entry of a dark cave. Footsteps are heard. They grow louder and louder, until a man emerges into the light.The man is young. He wears a long black coat over a tight black t-shirt covered in designs. His left hand is dug deep into the pocket of his jeans, while his right hand clutches a phone. His gloved thumb rests over a button. The number "2" button. The young man's eyes stare straight ahead. Green eyes, glistening in the sunlight. Jet black hair blowing in the wind. The man walks forward, a long staircase before him. It leads down from the entrance of the cavern to the ground below. The man doesn't know where he's going. All he knows is that his body has to get there.Walking down the steps, the man finds a note in his pocket. Putting his phone in his right pocket, his left hand pulls the piece of paper out. It's the remnants of a letter, an
The not a song songYou make me happy,You are forever a part of me,And I don't want to let you go.