StereotypeDon't shove a name on me Your stereotype can crash and burn.You cannot keep me down;I will always rise and return.Your labels mean nothing to me Utter nonsense through and through.Every person is unique;I am me and you are you.Skinny, smarty, four-eyed freak...Chubby, lazy, forgetful, meek...Afraid, coward, forgetful fool...Follower, do-gooder, mindless tool.All these names are meaningless I am me and you are you.But when names cease to beHow can you tell who is who?Labels define us and create us Remind us of who we are.Every person is unique,But stereotypes can go too far.
Jesus the LiberalI am a Christian.I believe in the bibleand all of its stories.Adam and Eve,Noah's Ark,David and Goliath,and I even believe thata man named Jonahwas stuckinsideawhale.Don't look at me like that.I believe that Jesus Christ,Son of God, died for my sins.And I believe one day He will return.I may be set in my ways,but that doesn't mean I'm acrazy conservative who can't have fun.I may have morals,but that doesn't mean I lookdown on you and the life you live.I may love Jesus with all my being,but that doesn't mean I don't loveeveryone who doesn't.In fact, I'm a Christianwho just so happens to love gay people.Shocker?Not really.There are Christians.And then there are "Christians".Some "Christians"believe that you will go to hellif you sin...And sometimes they have the nerve to saythat if you don't believe in God,then you are useless.I am a Christian,and I know for a factthat my God hasn't made a single mistakewhen it comes to His creations.I am a Christ
They Told UsThey Told Us:They told us we weren't artists,They said that we're just puttin' words on paper...They told us we wouldn't make it,Because language isn't unique...Ta hell with them all I say,Because I know tha truth they seek ta hide.Writers, poets,We're treated like third-rate artists.Our hands can't create magical pictures,We can't create comics ta make people laugh,Or emotive portraits ta make em cry...But what they don't see is tha title,What they don't see is tha description,They don't even see tha comments or replies!They look only at themselves,And at tha talent they seem ta proclaim.It's like starin' at an old english aristocrat,Ignorin' us simply because we're farmers.But what they don't see are the words.Words used ta give a picture context.Withou' a title, a picture is just a mix of colours and lines.Who could understand an image, withou' a title?If art alone suffices, why not let every piece be nameless?I'll tell ya the truth, separated from the
Never Back DownYou stitched my lips todaySo I could not speakI sliced my slender throatSo I could still breatheDowsed acid in my eyesSo I could not seeBut I reached out to touch herShe in turn touched meYou cut my ears todayI hear no birds singOr an infant's laughterAnd the joy that bringsYou bound my wrists and handsNow they are red rawI should blindly stumbleBut still I stand tallYou sliced my fingertipsI can't feel her skinThe softness of her hairThe barrel of my penYou broke my legs in twoNow I cannot walkNor can I see or hearFeel or talkYou did all of these thingsTo keep me quietYet the passion that stirsIs as loud as a riotListen for the silenceThat comes before the soundNow feel for my touchAs I will never back down
Don't.Don't do anything.Anything at all.Don't cry.Nor cut.Don't try to fall.Don't think it's all over.Don't try to leave this place.Stay.Stay here.With me.For all eternity.We can laugh.And joke.We can think of this as a hoax.Make it unreal.Learn how not to feel.Be happy with ourselves.Feel joy once more.Please Don't.Don't leave.
Reality BitesReality bitesWhere as he tore shredsFrom the pristine pagesOf the book you once readA promise of a PrinceAnd of a fairytaleOn those lonely nightsServing to regaleAnd offer some solaceIn times of despairWhen hope felt as distantAs the love you once sharedYour book was uniqueThough you try to replaceThe words and the imagesBut you still see his faceSuffocated by lifeEach breath hard to findA broken, tarnished heartIn tumultuous timesReality bitesBut with your pride still intactMaybe now is the timeThat for once you bite back
This is a six word storyThis is a six word story:I just pretend to be profound
The Broken GirlThe broken heart beats,The broken mind thinks,The broken mouth speaks,The broken soul lives,The broken fingers searchfor a place to survive,and the broken girlsomehow makes it before she dies.