Its ben a minute BP and now im back its been so long and i felt i knida neglected this website due to the popularity of myspace i guess but im here now no need to fair lol anywayz im pretty open anything u wanna know or ask just ask!
Something i just wrote spur of the moment thing
8/29/07 3:30
We stubble through life like drunken dances
To decipher the questions that have no answers
Like is there a God and why are we here
Is it for laughter, love, will it ever be clear
Is it searching the world for the greatest thrill
Or cheating your neighbor for every dollar bill
Or perhaps its deeper, something more profound
Like the buzz of bee as it flies around
It could be the rain, how it feels when it falls
Or the sound of an echo, as it hits the walls
It might be the sight of a lover sleeping
Or the humbling sound of a widow weeping
Is it about right, or is it about wrong
What about power and to whom it belongs
We search high and low, near and far
For where we're going, versus where we are
So the meaning of life, does it really matter
What's important and what's mindless chatter
It is all these things and how they fit together
From the tsetse fly, to your best friend forever
Everything in life, comes and goes
It is about the quiet things that no one ever knows
August 11,2010 @8:13pm
My tree of Memories, this is no Accident; emotions were as much a part of the as root and bark. Memories collected like dew on the thick green leaves of the tree.
Look At My Memory
A child is here, brought low by disease. He is far too young to have suffered so. Thin beyond words, the boy's skin is a shade paler than the bleached hospital sheets upon which he lies.
His parents no longer visit him, for they cannot bear to watch him suffer. The doctors have long since surrendered him to God.
The boy, too, has abandoned hope. Strange emotions, weariness, hatred-swell within the dark recesses of his young heart. He tries to reject the black terror that germinates in his body, but no amount of effort or tears can drive the invader away. He has long ceased to resent his parents and doctors. Once he did, but now his pain is so great that there is little room in his heart to think of others.
Only one person brings the boy comfort; A healthy young girl with tan skin and deep brown eyes.
She is a beacon of brightness and light in the boy's world; Her very presence is a comfort to him
But he is unable to look upon her face
whenever they meet, the boy is filled with loathing for his own state. Soon, this loathing eats away at what joy he receives from the girl's visits.
The girl will stop coming. He knows this. His every waking moment is spent in fear of this day.
He thinks that if he could tell her of his feelings, that this might not be so. But this conversation never happens.
The girl disappears....
The boy dies alone.....
The memory is stored within me etched upon it s a single word: Loss!
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