There is a forest called Truth around the corner. I go in search for dialogue. So many perspectives there are to offer. One comes back more alive in their concept of God.
I feel a lightness in the falling leaves, stirs within me a freedom and acceptance of dying. Many creatures shuffle amongst the brush, skyward eyes enjoy the critters busy climbing. Up the Tree trunk towers, along the arm~like branches, up and down collecting food in preparation for the season called Winter. So many intricate sounds joined together of varied pitch, tone and timber make for lively conversation. Philosophies smooth ******* mates for various creations of Thought to incubate my ever expanding Understanding, the flowered fruit of Reason.

can you ***** my finger and measure the dopamine in my veins? collect my teardrops and tell me if i'm going to be okay? can you light up the darkness with magical pills?
decide if i'm too sad to go to school?
can you tell me if i'm just being melodramatic? measure my blood pressure, maybe that will work. write me a prescription for 5 Happy Days in a row, and 3 hugs from Someone I Love.

doctor, doctor
i'm not feeling well today
doctor, doctor
i don't know if i should stay

sadness isn't a sickness, but it's infected my mind. can you write me some antibiotics to get them out in time?

sadness isn't sickness, but i think i might've caught something from doing a little too much of Having No Friends. don't you know how much i've been Laying In Bed?
sadness isn't sickness, but i think i'm coming down

doctor, doctor
i've got a severe case of the I Don't Want To Lives
can you write me a prescription?
make it go away?

doctor, doctor
you've let me down this time
doctor, doctor
i'm not in my prime

can you tell that i'm not healthy?
'cause i don't think you can
oh, sadness isn't sickness,
but it's fatal,
if all goes according to plan

The poems I read here are mostly tragic beauty.
Line after line
I can see that we are not all just
fine and dandy.

The letters chosen
are strung together.
They just keep going on forever.

The words they make , however,
each are splendid and
profoundly, purposefully unique.

The thoughts spilled out here
are often troubling at best.
I can't help but pray
for each poet's souls end to unrest.

These words of course have to be real
but they also have so much power to heal!

For those words are each unique
and can express so much more
other than our darkest street,
but more and more of hope
and of our highest highest peaks!

Let's cover the walls,
In words we will never say,
Sheets we'll never sleep in,
Pictures never taken.
Let's be blind to what could of been.

If God is everywhere, he is in every pedophiles basement.