song 9/2/08, respectively

barbed wire battlefield

his new name came in a box
of gold paper stars
he had to wear it always
hiding his hidden scars
then his blood was hunted
and he learned to feel fear
he had nowhere to hide
from their harsh racial sneer

hundreds of boots
lined up by the train
too much variety
but one little stain
the boots want him gone
and all of him to his name
a box of paper stars
and an idea marked blame.

[chorus]
this boy went to hell
and he saw it everyday
how gas burned the ground
and people molded like clay
and he discovered his spirit
was silenced by fate
and this barbed wire battle went on
he would wait

the boots fence his freedom
spit their hate in his eye
starve him of kindness
and leave him to die
every step taken
feel clouds close in fast
boyish spirit broken
but determined to last

old mother and father
weep soft tears like rain
free of barbed wire
but what's left to gain?
when there's ink in your arm
and clothes cling to bones
but a son's broken body
never did
get back home.

chords:Am, E, C, F, CB, Amaj, GC, Am7, A7

belief statement in form of song

Every day I want to be with you
Well I've lost the battle and I'm losing the war
And I keep on asking myself what for
If you believe in fate and destiny
Then open your eyes and believe in me
--rooney 'believe in me'

If you believe in love
Then let it show
If you want someone
Just let them know
--bosson 'believe in love'

Believe in dreams
You love so much
Let the passion of your heart
Make them real
And tell
All the ones you love
Anything and everything you feel
--flyleaf 'believe in dreams'

I want to believe
There's something to believe
I would live only
Just to believe
--hanson 'believe'

Believe in your dreams and they'll come true,
Follow your heart in whatever you do.
The sky is the limit so do what feels right;
You make the choices.
Believe in your dreams and they'll come true,
Follow your heart in whatever you do
Dreams and wishes do come true.
--moffatts 'believe in your dreams'

Every day my time runs out.
Lived like a fool, that's what I was about, oh
I believe in miracles.
I believe in a better world for me and you.
Oh, I believe in miracles.
--the ramones 'believe in miracles'

I believe in coyotes and time as an abstract
Explain the change, the difference between
What you want and what you need, there’s the key,
Your adventure for today, what do you do
Between the horns of the day?
Trust in your calling, make sure your calling’s true
Think of others, the others think of you
Silly rule golden words make, practice, practice makes perfect,
Perfect is a fault, and fault lines change
--R.E.M. 'i believe'

You Might See Me Smiling
But Inside I'm Dying
Too Proud To Let It Show
I Ain't The One
You won't See Me Crying
But it's Hard To Let It Go
--joe 'life of the party'

Life
"Think about it"
Everybody has troubles
And everybody's troubles are different than others
Life's a constant struggle
But keep your head high and it'll be alright
--kingspade 'life'

Life is good
When you've got a friend
Who makes you smile
Life is good
When you've got friends like mine
--lalaine 'life is good'

hard times and getting harder still but together we can make
it through these days hold on and take hold of this hand
we turn to each other to find strength there's nothing that
we won't beat together there's nothing that can stop us.
help me, help me face my fear because i don't want to have to walk alone
and i make this promise to you to stand by you support you
to never let you down.
--gob 'together'

Hope climbs atop of the piano
reaching out towards the warmth of the sun
some man tries to ask her down
but now maybe that's where she belongs
--our lady peace 'hope'

x.x.x.x.x.

i could put so many more songs on here, it would be ridiculous.
but i hope you get an idea of what i believe in through some of these musics.

the men with eyes that sting

joints,
awkwardly bent
rest in comfy chair

other joints,
hidden under mattress
give a peculiar
smudging to your
dwelling.

ashtray
loaded with regrets

too fat
messed up hair
will never find love
life's a bitch

great

lips outlined
crooked
like your smile.

mum won't know where i'm hiding these.

i return in silence and i walk in joy

no more loving arms to hold me
no more mouths to tell me
it will alright.

no more comfort.

only a heart wrenching gasp
where i want
to remember
every face.

and every song of pain.

like animal noises,
i hear my screams
trapped in the small space
where i tried to leave them

mingling with all the pain my group tried to lose.

i came out a different person.
so much i want to go back in and try and come out differently again.

sorry for the ellipse leanne. [[angsty/emo poem-title?]]

alibis.
choke on them.
swallow your taste in
sensibility
and break
like ice in cold
water.

your dry parched
fingers
scrape down
heartstrings you gutted yourself.

the pinch before
the bleed.
the plunge before
the dive.

my feelings
are sucked away.
a whisper in
your hurricane,
a raindrop in
your puddle of tears.

does it give
you glory?
glory scraped across
too
much
decadence?
MY decadence?

carved like
turkey.
split like
bowling.
hurt like
...hurt.

'forever' is a long time, son.

Feelings

i really hate feeling jealous.
out of all the feelings i can feel, i think jealousy is one that i hate the most.
because there's no cure, really.
except to get what you're jealous of as your own.

but what if the thing you are jealous of is love?
how do you get that as your own?

i feel happy for people who talk about the people they love.
because it sounds so happy and beautiful and amazing.
but there's only a setback that i make.
i want it too.

i have a problem with that.
i break hearts.
accidentally, maybe.
but still.
i don't want to be that person that no one wants.

it's like that switchfoot song.
everyone's so scared to death of dying alone.

i'm like that.
i don't want to die alone.
and i'm still young so i really shouldn't be worried about these things.


but i just want to know why.
am i an untouchable?
does no one really want me?


:(

Shortest Non Poetic Response...You Ready?

i'm sick of liars.
and i'm sick of fake friends.
i'm done with people who aren't willing to see past the past.
and i'm done with people who bring about round about arguments.
and think they're amazing.
i'm through with people i know that think that i'm a dipshit because of something that happened a long time ago.
and i'm through with people talking about me behind my back.
meople will know what i speak of.
this sucks.

The Short Lived Youth of Our Time

in the golden days of my youth in canada, bible stories were exchanged at lunch for the love of the adventure, not the religion, and the boys were never afraid to ask the girls to play with them, not just to be nice, but because we were all friends, i hoped we'd never leave. there were days when the girl and the boys had snowball fights on the same side, and the concept of having a crush on someone was vague and undefined. if there were any prejudices, they were against the older kids who knocked down our snow forts in winter and stole our fields for soccer games. i lived every day like my last.

and then a crushing blow to it delivered my family to the vast and even more confusing land of the united states of america.

i was an ignorant child supposedly, living in the bubble that i put myself in through grade school, where 'gay' was a whole new concept to learn and cussing was learning a lot more words then stupid. arriving with my luggage at the airport in a strange place, i carried nothing but the clothes in my suitcase and the culture on my back.

should a move really make that much of a difference? are canada and the usa really that different?

maybe my above statement is true then. maybe i was living in a bubble, keeping myself away from all the socially unacceptable things. things i might have known about from the beginning.

things i learned upon arriving:
i didn't know what being gay was till at least seventh grade. i had no opinion on it until eighth.
i didn't know any cuss words until sixth grade. i didn't use them until eighth. up until that point i was under the impression that 'stupid' was a cuss.
i didn't know what an abortion was until eighth grade. i still don't have an opinion on it.

and now my ten year old sister is telling me grade schoolers call each other fags.
and long hair on guys is considered gay.
and one piece suits on girls make them lesbians.

there's something at work here.
because my
bubble
has definitely
POPPED.