BroadwayLionWolf

Why do you care what clothes I wear, or the style that I fix my hair? And why should I change what I do, just so that I can please you?

A bullet in my mouth, for my soul to haunt. And small paper notecard: "Is this what you want?"

In winter it is cold and white, Children playing up ‘till night, Going for rides in a polished red sleigh, Listening to the horse's neigh. Drinking hot chocolate by the cozy flames, Staying up late and playing fun games, Sitting together and watching TV, This is what winter is to me. Autumn is for family and friends, Hoping that life never ends, Leaves falling from old trees, Gathering food before the freeze. Crisp air and golden flowers, Dogs barking for hours and hours, Playing outside with a yellow ball, This is the end of the colorful fall. During summer it is hot and dry, Lay in the sun and your skin will fry, Going to the beach

You walk on tears Like broken glass Unable to tear yourself Away And stop crying Just for a moment You can't bear the pain Filling your heart You can't stop thinking What you could have done To stay together Now you are broken As you cry for eternity You have nothing to do Except think Of how hurt you are Notice, how it is not me, But you.

I’m sitting here In this lonely chair No noise nor movement My sheet is bare My mind is racing My head is hot The room is spinning But I am not I need a drink My throat is dry I cannot think I have to try Everyone left But I can’t see I need to get out I’ve lost the key My stomach hurts My face is red My chest is filled With fear and dread The test is there I can feel the rough paper Then it is gone Matter is vapor

Sun shining through gaps in the trees The air bringing in a calm breeze Creatures relaxing in the translucent waters Hippos, elephants, ducks, and otters A cougar lounging in a tree, A flicking tail, a buzzing bee, Birds fly free and animals roam, This is their lovely little home. The bugs all journey over mossy rocks and sticks, Lady bugs, termites,  ants, and ticks. A doe says goodbye to her fawn, Don’t worry, mum will be back by dawn, The young child waits under a sturdy pine, Lain in a bed made out of twine. The day has gone as well as the sun, But sadness? Of that there will be none, The moon comes out to watch over them a

Graveyards filled with dust and bones, skeletons and decaying headstones, stale blood and rotting wood, a figure, Death, with scythe and hood. Scribbled writing scrawled in black, on decaying wood of shack. Twisted rope hung on red tree, unforgiving sins of thee. Where is all the joy and cheer? Buried under rancid fear. Late bodies hidden from sight, hiding in the cemetery tonight.