My fatal Flaw

I don't mean to be a mean person, and I strive to be nice to people and help out whenever I can. recently my life has taken a turn that i did not expect, i don't know where to go to college, i am demoralized constantly by my classmates, and am constantly rethinking the respect i have for people around me. I have seen that this world is far from innocent, and everyone has a problem,they could be assholes, the girl i start talking to turns out to be a whore, who has fucked everyone including your best friend, a girl dates another person just to spite you, your fellow wrestlers steal your phone and call people while you are in a wrestling match. They throw your clothes in a shower, demoralize you until you have no desire to move. I also have a problem, Its people, being nice has never brought me much good but only constant sorrow, and disappointment when i least expect it and when i need it most. Being nice does not have its advantages these days, and i have come to realize its a lost cause, but i will continue to do it regardless of what people do to me. For I will only pass through this world but once, and any help i can bestow unto my fellow man, i shall not think twice, but to act in the swiftest manner to help them.

when i was at a wrestling tournament i thought about you and quite alot of other people and was in a very bad state and decided to write something.

The Silence before the storm.
in isolated depression,
like a man staring from behind bars,
with pathetic devotion,
the man who receives no flowers,
When the next is alive,
I will receive no rose,
even on my grave.

It just makes me very sad that I now seem like a creep to you, like a horrible obsessive person seeking attention and even the smallest part of a conversation,to no serious avail. I have come to realize I am crazy for my beliefs and now know i will never find someone to cherish and who i can comfort and help out in their time of need. only to have the favor returned in only a remark, with no compensation or even remote attempt to show acceptance of me. All i want is to be accepted but I know i will never be accepted for being a nice person, the only people who win, are the liars, the womanizers, the cheaters, and more importantly, the phonies, today's world is full of them, and it is very hard to find someone who isn't. I still have yet to find one. and i will never find one, because there is always someone better, more accepted. All i want is to eat a peach, but im not even fit to crawl on the bottom of the sea. Life, is not all how its cut out to be.

I am sorry if I am unable to be a supportive role to you in your eyes. i strive to be nice in all occasions, even pick up the phone at 4 am in the morning. But i really have no voice in this matter at all, you dont even know who I am. I am a shadow upon the earth, the shadow of a tree, which is used momentarily, in which the tree takes full appreciation of its company, but as all good things, it will pass, and i will relinquish the warmth that the moment has brought. But the shadow will be stepped on, forgotten, and left alone to itself. and hopefully find peace, as the light fades into the darkness of the night, as its leave are softly falling, falling softly.

I Am The Maggot

"Your incompetence lies in your mental projection."
You are the center of my disgust,
A beauty and a wonder to me,
I, like an ant under your shoe
With remorse and sadness of the passing
But not for i.
Enlightened, honored, depressed
Impossible chasms of troubles,
With no bridges or guidelines.
I am the maggot,
And revered as one in your eyes.

The Whisper

the breath lost
like a blow from a heavyweight champion
stunned, i am in vertigo
to be, alone, but loved
a conundrum i cant decipher
why hath the cryptologist mentioned my name.
The analysis makes me insane,
and now,
i feel... pain.

The Demon

You are my demon.


the painted veil, hides your inner soul,
the insects encompass my eyes,
and eventually scurry inside,
the pain, of a thousand tiny slivers of glass.
Must i feel this way?

I am not alone,
we are all the same here,
the sphere, makes us.
the idea, makes us.
it, makes us.
then breaks us.

The Party

The Party

The atmosphere is lively,
The masks are frightening,
Their eyes are looking through me,
To each others own black visage,
The teeth show through, sharpened to points

The masks, are handmade,
the eyes, become gaping holes,
Their symbols brightly made and reflective,
with beauty, but behind them,
they carry only lies.

The Bee

The day, overcast, grey and gloomy,
The bee, its wing is broken, and it crawls,
To be torn from the sky,
do we have no mercy?

The bee is vulnerable, and doomed,
I spot a crowd, about to walk by,
I continue to walk, staring back in sadness,
and watch the feet fall.
for the bee is surely to fail.

I continue to walk,
my mind awry,
To see the mortality and
insignificance,
I start to think.
How Not I?

The Waves

The wind blows, starting the descent,
The waves become ever-constant beatings upon the rocks,
What hath they done?
They have built themselves of stone; Never to fail.
To be an unmoving decision.
The waves are like relentless strikes
like a hammer upon hot steel,
making them malleable,
forcing them to change their rough foundation.
molded to their pleasure,
screams, silenced by the remorseless water,
slowly eradicated, to a million little pieces. Each
insignificant;
its cries, forgotten.
Their efforts, to be unmoved, to survive, foiled,
by the flow.
As if in vain,
and we,
will never be the same.

What a day

what a day,
ohh the dismay.

The spark distraught, no commitment,
it was jumped into existance,
the chemical, the catalyst.
Existence, persistence*

The spark dead, stop.
it was jumped into existance,
constant, monotonous.
A Will, A Way.

The spark died.
Give up, and laugh with Murphy,
Communication, Emancipation.
Great puppeteer, lay me to rest.

Phone

walk these lonely cracked streets,
eyes avoiding sight,
peering at each fallacy to construct,
what which makes the world flat, inside my hand,
tremors send a shock through my spine,
The cracks grabbing onto my leg,
they wish to pull me down, down, down.
and i fall.
staring, eyes wrought in pain,
my mind sees an image,
to leave it behind,
I, to continue, myself.
The demon stares cursing my idiocy,
its black figure,contorted in my eyes.
I pray for the plug to be pulled,
our connection terminated,
we are addicts,
and we will never recover.

Man, who has fallen Macabre.

Man, who has fallen Macabre.

I am talking to a wall,
Like the man who wears his shirt backwards,
It is like I, am not one at all.
I pluck the daisies, only to give to you,
You talk of Lotus’s; I smile at the concept.

Your smile is of an amber energy,
My insides aflame, I cannot even refrain,
But just as the sun its zenith,
Must everything fall?

My back is met with cold objects,
Their icy feel, like your eyes,
With all do they conceal?
Right or wrong, you are a fascist,
I Must Be Wrong.

The king's men, have betrayed him,
His golden statue, has fallen from its pedestal,
The idol stares, with its discerning eye,
Just sing your hymn.

Her arms covered,
Peace, Laugh, Love
These are now curses, Bait for the unknowing souls,
Hypocritical fiend, your fallacy’s unending.

Succubus, and whore,
To help a lost, and forgotten man,
When his chair is about to be pulled from under,
Torn asunder, by his once thought fellow,
You know not of, but to save yourself,

When your evil neglects the flower bearers,
You begin to realize,
For each man with a flower to give,
Danse Macabre.

Why I write these

I write, because it relieves stress, I come to cope with myself, and understand who I am becoming, and what i am losing, for the better. No one will read this, but i am content with it being out to read, if even one person takes peace or happiness from one of these, then it has been worth it.