Ghosts

Do you believe in the undead soul?

The cries in the night in which still linger.

The whisper you hear when nobody’s home.

The sight that makes the cat go crazy.

 

Do you hear them too?

They cry out into the night not knowing how to make it true.

The time they had; a second much too lost.

Trying to say “goodbye” but trapped by the wall that bounds us all from our “goodbyes” to the world.

 

Some can see them, others can not.

The days that go are a crushing sight; for the ones who can not walk amongst.

They speak to us.

“I’m still here. I’m waiting for you to let me in.”

Crazy at all?

I see the things most people don’t

It doesn’t matter if it’s in reality or my own head

I see the people gone from Earth but still here

Some say I’m crazy for what I say

Am I crazy at all?

Time? Time….

Tic Toc Tic Toc

        The time is running the clock

                 Time flies they say

                         Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t

                                 It all just depends on the life you live

                                        It depends on how you see it

                                             The way Time works

                                                   Is the way you want it to work

                                                          It can go many ways

                                                                  Just maybe not backwards

                                                                          So is Time giving you a message?

 

                                                ~Live a life you will remember~  

Lost?

You don’t know what you have until you lose it.

 

This has meaning.

 

But….

 

What if you already know what you have before you lose it?

 

Knowing where their path will take them….

 

That’s what kills you on the inside.

 

Would you prefer not to know?

 

Or would you want to know and be forced to live knowing?

 

Whether it be good or bad..

Art is Freedom?

The pencil is my brush

The paper is my canvas

 

My mind is the sky

My imagination roams the earth

 

My painting is wild and free

 

The paint, smooth, not rushed, makes the beauty show

 

Different colors overlay

 

And when I’m done I write,

 

“Is it worth living in chains?”

 

Reflection

As I look in the mirror, I see me….

 

It’s not me, but it is….

 

I stand there looking at this reflection

 

I can see its heart, it’s black

 

As black as coal….

 

And I realise,

 

It’s showing MY reflection….

The Nights

These are the night that we may remember

The nights that never die in our minds

They stay stuck on repeat

So that we may never forget

The nights we lived when we were younger

The nights we stayed up talking about the weirdest things

The nights that we wanted to stay awake through

The nights that we stayed up staring at the sky

The night we fell in love

They stay on repeat in our minds, proving that

The nights never die

Dreamer

I am a dreamer

 

Yet I stand alone amongst them

 

Why should that matter?

 

I’m free to be me

 

I’m free to be who and what I want to be

 

Even when the crowd throws their sour, hateful words my way, I still keep myself

 

There are others in that crowd

 

They don’t do anything….

 

For they are too lost within the crowd, playing the act

 

Lost in everyone else’s minds

 

They are too scared to stand FOR THEMSELVES

 

Yes, I was like them

 

But you have to take that leap of faith

 

Yet they are too afraid of the judging crowds

 

The crowds of people who in which torture their everyday lives

 

Because WORDS DO HURT

 

Yet some stand alone

 

But they speak out for the others

You’ll soon find that it’s all worth it

 

Because when you step out,

 

You Become A Free

Dreamer

 

 

 

Rainbows End

They bring joy to small children

Yet others see it in another way

A way of definition, maybe

We all see it differently

Some in good, others in bad

But in the end, we all become the

Rainbows End

Just me, the Pencil, and the Paper

I started to draw a character from an anime I had watched

 

                                             I tried quickly to get it done

 

                                                   Yet I kept messing up

 

My eraser was growing short, the paper getting stained with all the mistakes I had made

 

                          Seeing my mistakes, I slowed down and took a breath

 

                                           For I realized, you can’t rush

 

                                                             Perfection