As a society we are unable to help each other,
unable to notice something's wrong.

We've tried to create a perfect world
so perfect that it will crumble
because perfect is different to everyone.

We try separating ourselves
from those who hurt us
but the pain and suffering has gone on too long.

We have become as a society self absorbed
trying to climb the hierachy whilst we all sink lower and lower as one.

When ink is spilled...

Do you make it into something that looks good or try clean up as fast as you can.

Do you let it soak into the paper and when you go to write it ends up on your hands.

Do you continue to spill the ink not giving a **** about where it lands.

Do you turn it into a poem or song that you could sell to the next underground band.

Do you leave it to live a life of its own and see the patterns and shapes it makes as though it was planned.

Or do you leave it for someone else to clean up just because you can.

Without silence
sound would be
unappreciated

I am cracked
I am broken
your words attack
when they are spoken

they made me fall
pushed me to the floor
your words they call
then push me out the door

they're just an act
but they feel so real
they were a pact
now they're a broken deal

you caused this all
your words, they surround
they pushed me off the wall
and left me on the ground

Words can hit like a bullet
but the wounds are only metaphorical

The girl could have fallen in love with a girl or guy
but no, instead she just wanted to die.

You can not lie
Yet not tell the truth

You can not be wrong
Yet still not be right

You can think something
Yet have no proof

You can not be a pacifist
Yet still not fight

I can't look at you
I can't give into your lies
but it is still hard