My Own Robin GoodfellowSun-warmed face in careless cock-a-sideFull lips in a merry curveWhile bright eyes full of mischiefTickle the laughter from any who dare to meet themStrong hands calluscedBut generousRuthless and vengeful protectorLighthearted romping playmateLover of sunny days and deep woodsLike wood himself at timesHard hooves planted firmly in the earthYet vanishing at will without a traceThe frolicking faunThe Puck of my heartWho frees me to feel joyAt my own existence
MicrophoneIt emphasized his voiceThe song in his bodyThe pain in his heartThe blood in his veinsThe love in his voiceEverything that made himCompleteHe was perfect on stageAnd everywhere elseHis love for the fansWas unmistakable and vastHe was a great man, not just because of how he sang,But how much he caredFor everyone,not just close people,But everyone that loved him, he loved back
When I hide PainA haunting feeling,I know its love.I don't want it,I want to be your friend.I stay awake dreaming,crying for help.Please, can't you see,I'm in pain. Tell me,What do you feel. Do I want risk our friendship,for this crush. I need to talk,Will you hate me.
Living IsLiving is when youPick up all the pieces and broken bitsOf what used to be beautifulOf what still isAnd try not to cut your fingersBut you do, and you knew you would
Humanities MistakeHe's an angel from heaven with wings made from feather, his arm's made from steel and his skin made of leather.His eyes like lights in a night made from cloud, his chest made from darkness, his heart does it shroud.With his hair just like fire and his smile just like coal, with an axe for a spine and a sword for a soul.Boots made of skulls and a jacket from skin, a shirt made of glass, quite dangerously thin.With a knife in his hand and shine on his boots, his breath being toxic, the air it pollutes.With lift of his arm and a grin on his face, blood being smeared all over the place.Blood on the ground and blood on the floor, blood on the walls and blood on the door.Knive wounds in babies and their blood on their mothers, children who cry out to be saved by the others.Pointless it is, and worth all it's not, to try to escape is not worth a shot.He's an angel of death and fear he brings, with his voice bringing pain whenever he sings.making such chaos and embracing such sin, he
Is it all a lie?If you love someoneWhy do you fight?If you care about themWhy do you say these hurtful things?Is that all love will ever be?Yelling and fighting, hurting and dyingIs there even love in this world?A false hope, a dream?Friends and family and loversIs it all a lie?
VirusIt began with a cough. Just a simple cough, surely the result of some pathenogenic pest Aggravating my lungs Just for the hell of it. People make great hosts, you know.The coughing quickly became hacking Gasping for air and gagging from the ferocity of the bacterial assault On my weakening body. No doubt these microbes were resistant to medication.I started seeing things. A tall, faceless man in a black suit watching me from the edge of the trees. Watching me without eyes. Surely it was a side effect of the infection.The hallucinations never stopped. Medications weren`t working. Doc
You Cannot KnowIf I do not exist,You cannot know.You will never know.And I cannot tell you as much.You could travel To the end of the street To the end of the earth To the end of the universe And beyondAnd you will prove nothing,Save that I am notScriptures.If I do exist,You cannot know.You will Never know.And I will not tell you as much.You could travel To the end of the street To the end of the earth To the end of the universe And beyondAnd you will find neither meNor evidence of my passing.