A little stream of blood
Runs down my bashed up face...
He lays his head upon a stone,
The ally way his nightly home...
Burn me into radiance to fuel my youth
I shall wilt into this fire...
I read so many poems of yours
And sense the pain you share...
Anger blowing in the wind
Blood stained hands clawing the sky...
My dreams are irrational
beyond the ability to rationalize...
Prince of Darkness sings of witches and black...
Ozzy grown old, a caricature of his past...
She stared around the areoplane
and pressed her face against the window pane...
Green is the color of envy,
But not within me...
They knock me down every day
knowing naught what they do to me...
Lonely you stand in the corner
lonely you don't even look up...
English class, it is a bore.
All we learn is dumb grammar...