Bedroom of Goodbyes

How many conversations gone?
How much longer do I hold on?
Where are you while life is passing by?
Coffin filled with memories
Pretending you've been set free
Where are you while life is passing by?

One day truth will find me
Just beneath the frail lies
In a bedroom filled with tears, cuts and goodbyes.
One day truth will find me
Just beneath the frail lies
In a bedroom filled with tears, cuts
A bedroom filled with tears, cuts and goodbyes.

Open the cask and ask him why
Or just pretend he never died.
Who will wipe the tears now from my eyes?
Coffin filled with memories
Pretending you've been set free
Where are you while life is passing by?

One day truth will find me
Just beneath the frail lies
In a bedroom filled with tears, cuts and goodbyes.
One day truth will find me
Just beneath the frail lies
In a bedroom filled with tears, cuts
A bedroom filled with tears, cuts and goodbyes.

Cause people believe that pain
Will just go away when it's over.
But maybe I, I still will cry
My life keeps moving on
I don't know why.
Why, why, God, why?

Rewrite to the original song "Champagne Supernova" by Oasis. This is for entertainment purposes only, no copyright infringement was intended.

House of Symbols

Run-down,
Broken down
House of memories.
Sex,
Tears,
Quiet fears,
Secretly retreating.
Cigarette smoke,
Guys who're broke,
Raping teenage girls.

Run down,
Broken down,
House of pain.
My, my
How you've changed.

The girls are gone,
The family too,
Like seeds of a dandilion
Blow about.
I'm not
Run down,
Broken down,
Anymore.

The house has cleaned up
With me.

Spruced up
Cleaned up
House of symbols.

Sanguine

We star gaze

Through the stained glass

As a slumberous solstice

Glistens between the vines

Of a stunning smilax.

We are sanguine.

The kids aren't alright

Eighteen is the new fourteen
And girls in short skirts showing
Wishfully good legs
And tight tank tops
Wear it well.
Their thick made-up eyes
And pasty pink lips
Curving into their first
"Come hither" smile
Will learn the truth
After being beaten back
Raped
Lied to.
They will learn

Yet seventeen is the new twenty-five

Because bitches bearing

Cutting scars

In flesh and mind,

Adorned in confidence

That only those truly borken

And recovered

Can wear like a robe

Tailored to the tastes

Of truth and beauty,

Are the ones who know

The kids aren't alright.

Megs

She's got that smile again,

Screaming,

"Snap the damn picture."

Her hair is getting aggitated,

Mirroring her mood.

At least it's down for once.

I prefer it restrained

So her face glows

Like it should.

This was our finale,

The long-feared end to forever.

The mornings are faded,

and the covers are mine.

I'm no longer held back

When I'm pissed off

And she's afraid.

The scars are now blended skin.

Epiphany

Night settles;
A long awaited yawn
Tasting of putrescent leaves.
Trees reach upwards
Towards the milling mare's tail.
It's arms, fingers,
They are like my own;
Stretching as far as my dreams
To touch the fey crystals.

This is not the end;
It is merely a beginning.

We Real Cool

The Pool Players.
Seven At The Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

-Gwendolyn Brooks



"The Fonz." Picture. Photobucket.com. 14 April 2009. http://i259.photobucket.com/albums/hh303/RJN182/TheFonz3.jpg