Never may the dream man wake.
He slept so somberly.
I used to think he feared the world,
But now I think I see.
Never may the dream man wake.
His rest is soundless now.
Now, never to see what he was escaping.
I thought I saw the picture, but never could I have foreseen.

Never may the dream man wake.

If it’s not love it’s poison,
If it’s not good, then it’s evil.
If you’re not warm, you’re freezing.
And if you leave you’re cruel,
And if you stay clinging on for too long, you are nothing.
So, if it’s not love, it’s poison,
And if you’re not surrounded you’re alone,
And if you're not full you're starved.
If you break you’re nothing,
You’re alone,
So if it’s not love, then it is poison.

It frustrates me that I’m sitting here,
Staring at a blank page.
For I feel so much.
And I have so much to write,
On this empty page.
I have seen enough to write an endless novel.
So why is my page empty?
Not full of wooded trails.
Or life's many tales.
Not even the sympathies,
Of my many brothers,
And many sisters.
My page is empty,
Alas, the poet’s dying shame.

If I knew how,
I'd write music to go along with the words in my poems,
And I turn my poems into songs.

Imagine reading a poem,
Beginning a comment on it,
Looking for the name of the author,
And realizing you wrote it.

Blow the on the dandelion
I pick from the ground
Watch my wish fly away
Going everywhere
Landing all around

It's the same wish I've always had

I wish while I blow out birthday candles
On 11:11

So many wishes wasted
On an impossible thing
On an impossible person

I wish my wishes wouldn't be wasted
On you

I sorry,
I turn on brain.
Me no think.
Think make you go away.