Worn out and tired, bitter in the end
A story that scrapes the skin as if made of sand.
Our bleeding knees are on the floor,
The father figure is at the door.

If one day we can make our escape,
Relegating all that we once knew and once had,
Burning the mattress as we lay on the bed,
My sweet butterfly, I fear we might
die.

A sloppy rhyme and a lack of rhythm,
love does not mind because beauty
love will always find.

But as time passed and we changed,
as the pictures on the wall,
it was all rearranged.

Now we lie here in bed.
like two strangers
that have already met.

They undressed me with their eyes,
Saw my flaws and built the lies.
I shouted for them to let me go,
Sever the chord, cut all the ties.
They only stared me dead in the face
And told me to know my place.

Life is an adventure
one needs not brave alone.
But you better be careful
With who you bring home.

I’ll help ’cause
it is easy to show,
Who is right and who
has to go.

It is all in how you greet,
and how you stand
in the rain.

If you can say goodbye
And you don’t wanna say hello
Than they gotta go.
They gotta go.

If a goodbye cannot be cast
And ‘hello’ has so long ago been said
That you don’t remember ever being apart,
She’s got you by the heart.

Love is in the air
all cheap and debonair,
kinda quick, kinda unfair.

Love is not any of this,
Not yours, not his.
It is a bit crass, it is
a stumbled upon kiss.

Love is a little too much alliteration
giving in to too much of a little temptation.
Even if too little a little too late, too late
Too little too late – a day off the date.

They glide from brick to brick
As the sun shines and the sunset shifts.
Memories that we’ll never miss,
it is our outline on the wall,
After all.

You laughed once when faking the truth,
You laughed twice when they told you
To laugh no more.
Then we both laughed
And our cheeks got sore.

Cold feet is not a problem;
We will just warm up in the bed.
Nothing left to be said.

Let’s just go ahead and show
our whimsical and twisted
smiles.

I’ve seen your mind wander
With others, no wonder.
Cheating on your sleep
With thoughts that creep.

Menacing eyes accuse me
for your very own disgrace
But you are just saving face.

Love for us is a verb
Stuck in the past tense.
Right now, love makes no sense.

The mirror shows the only me
anyone knows.
A reflexion of flesh with no soul,
Another corpse with no goal.

Of this high road they talk
But only few dare to walk.
Seems noble
But it is just rubble.

But he will still be afraid
of losing himself in this charade.
Blood, sweat and tears.

He dreams today of that of yesterday,
of that which only the free can.
Time shall give him a chance.
So enjoy, the last free dance.

He will carve the path
For those that come last
So his children can look back and see
That he lived and died free.

I choked them with the very chains they tried to use, peering into their lifeless eyes as the realized their situation, gasping for an air they could not have it. Maybe now this means I’m a criminal and seeing as how I feel no regret, I might even be considered a psychopath. So be it.

Living in a forsaken city such as this one doesn’t really entice fighting for what is right nor for freedom and when crooks are the lawmakers, is abiding by the law right at all?

All I know is that I had scores to settle and someone was going down tonight and it was either me or him. I’m sure as hell that it will be him.