Double Standard

I know it isn’t fair:
I should live up to what I say.
And I know that I should care,
But I don’t; not today.

Fire and Ice

Every incident is anger
Every moment in between
Is the distance of the stars
The emptiness unseen

Every beauty is a danger
Every whisper is a scream
When all our peace ends in wars
And it doesn’t mean a thing

Purpose (less)

I do not wake, I dare not toil
Trapped inside this mortal coil
If there’s reason, then I cannot see
What it might want to do with me

Appreciation

You never know until tomorrow comes
The true worth of today
You never see until the morning sun
Shines on the ocean spray

Compartmentalization

There is only little boxes
And one big grave
I can use the little boxes
Little things to save

But big things are left out in the sun
To fester and turn rotten
I can choke on things left in the sun
Or have them buried and forgotten

Symphony

I thought this world would be a symphony
Not a battle of violin bows
But the discordance of our thoughts
Every day, it shows.
It’s in the screaming sound of mistreated strings
The silence of unearned laurels
And whoever our conductor be
Somewhere, he scowls.

My Unlife

How can I complain about an unlife
When I know that it is my life,
And whatever goes unchanging,
It’s my fault that it’s so?

Apocalypse

Outside, the world is burning
And the moon has stopped its turning
And all that’s left of yearning
Is the hunger of the beasts

Outside, their moans defying
The sirens that now are dying;
Inside, the only thing that’s trying
Is why so much has ceased.

Friendless

Oh, you’re such a silly man
Still with all those hopes and plans
Still thinking me unfriendly
Because I haven’t any friends
But I tell you, there are worse things to be
And if someone wanted to be friends with me
Do you think that I would stop them there?
I’m simply loathe to beg and plead
Too quick to think that life’s unfair
That there’s no place for me out there
And if I ever did believe
It would require that someone truly cared.

Will

For many moments I sat waiting,
So adept at standing still;
So certain all worth chasing
Boiled down to just some time to kill.

But all I’ve lived was just prefacing,
Life a writer with a lethargic quill;
Maybe we’re on to demonstrating
That even characters can have a will.