2003

This is a Knife,
This is a Palm
This is a burn,
Gone is the balm

This is a wound,
Raw as can be
This is a smile,
In Two Thousand Three

This is her face,
And his, his, and hers
This is them smiling,
Smiling like curs

I can’t let go,
The hatred too strong
I cannot stop,
Inspiration has waited too long

Someone need comment,
Oh comment I beg
I am barely awake,
So desperately I beg

I can’t take no more,
No Caulfied am I,
To gin a body catch a body
Comin’ through the rye

Someone please stop
The madness that does abound

Does no one know, How to end this tragic monolue bound?
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Aicha

So soft spoken
Though you always had dad’s ear
So beautiful
Though every brother would sneer

So kind
Though we never did find
So always Always on my mind

I love you beyond words
And every day
I wish you were here
Those words to hear me say

Aicha,
I love you always
Every year,
This day my heart breaks

No one knows
They never will see
Aicha every day
This pain I feel

Aicha
Aicha
Passing me by…
Aicha
Aicha…
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Coward of the County

A coward, A coward
A coward is he?
Who so in pain Doth not the silent killer seek?

Is valiant, so valiant
This Knight you speak?
So mirrored by all,
In Admiration is he?

So forgotten not gotten, So left aside is he?
Who so desperately,
Sought some comfort did he…

Some pillow or shoulder,
Or arm did he seek,
That in the cold did his hand,
In the fog blindly wish to meet

Some friendly face
Or smile did assure,
He is not yet redundant
Though this new one did soar

Oh so blindly,
And emptily did he pray
And if they ask did tomorrow,
Nothing shall he say…

She is gone so is he,
And they have no more
Sides have been chosen,
And they Have No More
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