Hello, I am the salesman,
though no solid wares I vend.
You see I've come to hock some love,
to hearts long on the mend.
They say I have a way with words,
though modest, I remain.
If you'll stop and trade your time,
you've only peace to gain.
I'll take in all your troubles friend,
these shoulders can bear the load
and if it's faith in life you've lost
I've been known to peddle hope.
So stop and start to barter,
I'll show you all the world is fine.
No worries if you're hurried now,
I can bottle joy like wine.

I knew a wolf who dressed like sheep
with smiling eyes and hidden teeth.
Calmly through the flock he'd step.
Preaching life, and meaning death.

Once upon a dreary day,
he found a lamb who'd gone astray.
Lined with silver was his tongue,
a spectacle for one so young.

Nearly at the speed of light,
the wolf sprang forth and made his strike.
And not a sheep would hear the crunch,
of the wolf, enjoying lunch.

Farewell, dear friend, this will be our last goodbye.
Laugh at smiles shared my friend, for me you should not cry.
Fought my battles, some won some lost, but finally it's time.
To say our last farewells, old friend, this is our last goodbye.

You.
You are what once stayed my hand from rage.
You once blocked my lips from every bottle,
with your lips.
You are what once prevented tar from coating my lungs,
and you kept hate from filling my heart.
You once prevented my untimely demise.
You.
You are now every punch I throw and take in return,
You are every ounce of liquor that filters through my kidneys.
You are now every carcinogen I too often inhale,
You still keep my heart from hate,
Because you filled it to bursting with sorrow.
You are what I now follow to my grave.
You.

Do not disturb,
the dog that slumbers.
Make the blunder,
be torn asunder.
Lightning strikes before the thunder.
You'll still feel it from six feet under.
And all you love,
will not recover.
From their son,
who forever slumbers.

Sometimes,
Sometimes I can't sleep as horrors unforgotten slip their way through the thin veneer I have strung across a dark corner of my mind to hide these thoughts from the light of day.
On these nights,
On these nights I smoke a cigarette in shadows unbroken by the dim city lights and listen to a lonely cricket chirp and know at least we stand together in this midnight rendezvous.
In that I find peace.
Sometimes,
Sometimes I find myself unwilling to rise from my cold bed and face another strife filled day in a world full of challenge and misery that I was not asked but forced into.
Sometimes,
Sometimes I find my mind consumed by fear and hatred and anxiety inspired by a lifetime of bad decisions and worse luck in a seemingly never ending spiral of **** ups and shame.
But other times,
other times I find the smallest moments of bliss can rekindle the spirit and remember that goodness put forth will return if in nothing more than clear conscience and a light heart.
In the little things, I find peace.

In a valley dark and dead, a little lamb did lie,
he'd given up, enough's enough! And here I'll tell you why.
You see his spirit had worn away, with every fang-ed smile.
This meager sheep was born and raised, within the land of lions.

The little lamb toiled all day, he struggled to find a purpose
while everyone he'd ever known, just filed into the furnace.
He looked around at all the lines, how they carried on for miles!
But this is just the way it goes, when you're in the land, of lions.

And despite the effort he'd commit, the cycle wouldn't stop.
All hope was lost or beaten out, of his meek and wayward flock.
They'd turn their heads and softly say “We do admire your defiance,
but we're very sorry, little lamb, this is the land of lions.”

Drown it in whiskey,
smother it in cigarettes,
rather end it quickly
then have to live and die
with my regrets.
embracing death and
misery my innocence is
history
to me the truth
is a mystery
find life lackin
in symmetry
I hope the wronged
have forgiven me
will not tip toe
to it gingerly
just skip right to the inquiry
should I end it all now
or bring in the artillery?

I dreamt that I slept,
in a field full of sunshine,
near a creek that flowed slowly,
where the wind gently blew.

And I woke with a stretch,
and a sigh and a yawn
and I saw a lost angel,
with eyes, bright as jewels.

Her lips were like velvet,
her skin soft as silk
and she spoke with soft grace
her words like glass, smooth.

Well I reached for my angel,
and, this dream fell apart.
The scenery faded,
for dreamers are fools.

I'd like to make a toast to the ghosts,
settled softly on my shoulders.
Shapeless apparitions,
creating such a pressure I stagger,
with every step.
Here's to you,
the permanent parasites of my mind.
Never worry old friends.
I drink one for me,
and one for each of you.
I will let the burden,
carry me forever downward.
I will not forget that which was once flesh beside me,
now turned dust beneath my feet.
So cheers!
My ghastly ball and chain.
Pray that you rest soundly,
while yet gnawing at my brain.