Listening to a song you heard a million times before,
in a past not distant from your present,
but finding a spiritual connection with the lyrics,
the instruments, the singer's voice--
you find newfound meaning.

Then you realise, it is not the song,
which has changed,
but you.

The sun shines in my face,
Insisting that i wake up.
It's a new day,
But I don't know the first thing to do,
My mind travels but my body is stuck,
Might as well lay me under a truck,
I wouldn't get up to save my life
I'd rather be in heaven flying kites
Like I did when I was a little kid
Down by the beach with my dad
Teaching me to play catch.

Those are the good old days,
But part of being a man is accepting responsibility
Doing what you have to even though
You don't want to.
If it could go my way,
I would kidnap the president and make him
Work for me.
Then everyone would think it's a good idea
And we'd bring back slavery.
Except this time we can tie chains
Around uncle Tom,
Imagine never having to serve your own food.
Hey you got a slave I like,
Let's Make a fair trade.

Slave,
Why don't you go to School for me,
Give me your Lambos and your millions,
Give me the keys to all your mansions.
The Bible tells me that we as humans have the
Power to rule over animals,
And I'm the one being ruled,
Maybe I'm not human.

When I was a child in my mind I ruled the world,
Now that I'm grown all I want to do is
Smoke and drink.
I go home and find my child Hood toys,
they look at me and they no longer recognize me,
I ask: how am I supposed to keep time from changing me ?
They respond that time is the Potter,
We are the clay,
We form as time passes,
But regardless of our suffering and pain
Regardless of any tears that may be hidden behind
Our eyes,
Regardless of the chains around our wrists,
Neck and legs.
Regardless of the scars on our back
For all the mistakes that we've made
And the sweat of our body
That bleeds so that we have food on our
Table and a blanket at night,
Regardless of all this,
Perfection comes with time,
And in time we must learn patience.

You are stuck in their world,
you are mommy and daddy’s little girl.
Once you are in the wild
you will drown,
the second your feet hit the ground.
You will be scared
with no family to be found.
That is when you will reach out for those that were close.
But hey look at that!
Are they around?  
Nope.
And when you look back to see who is around,
there I will stand
with my hand reaching out,
to pick you up off the ground.

And so it was
a boy of twenty
too old to know better
  but too young to know any less
fastened together
by bits of broken glass
like an armour of shrapnel
  reflecting light
a prism of sound
shattering the empty silence
because if they were afraid to change
than he was the boy
with the eyes of a last child
  who was afraid of not changing
and there's one thing I hope
he never forgets
that life should be lived
without regrets.

Innocence,
Is...
Cocoons.
Keeping, caterpillars captured.
Keeping, fragility concealed.
Keeping instability confined.
Telling ambiguity it is necessary.
Telling in-culpability it is beautiful,
Until the day you gain consciousness.
Transcending into a butterfly,
Because when you learn how to fly,
You will never stop spreading your wings..
Your cocoon will seem, like it was just a fragment of your imagination.
Your mind will flutter, like a humming birds wings.
You will thirst for knowledge, like a bee for the sweetest nectar.
Your heart will love, like your natural instinct to sore above pinnacles.
Your lows will be depressing, you will stear clear of polluted capital cities.

Metamorphosis unravels your full potential.
Dancing rainbows...
The world is vast place,
And you will explore every inch of it..

my bones are twisted. the
skeleton cracked at year thirteen
with what could only
be age or agony-
probably a gnarled collaboration
of the two.

i think i've been twenty-one
since i was born; at least, that's
what every teacher i've ever had
thought of me: "mature for her age".
so did every ****** guy high off of
green smoke with eyes glazed over in

lust, either staring at me or straight
through my jeans, whistling and howling
like wolves with blood dripping
down their chins and claws
ready to ****** something already

gone.

i think that's why i died young.

Youthful ignorance wishes
    that life meant something
    external

But nothing means anything
    to anyone until one gets
    involved

Meaning follows experience
    inexperience has no place
    demanding

Maturity destroys innocence
    self-indulgent egocentrism
    encourages

Failure to find deeper meaning
    is failure to build the bridges
    connecting

How convenient to blame life
    for meeting the low expectations
    we've sown