(T. Beechey)

I've been searching for a sign since the day that I came home

But all roads intertwine and in circles I do roam

Somewhere between tomorrows I wandered and got lost

Now I'm wallowing in sorrows and my purpose is the cost

I've scanned the ocean blue and atop each mountain peak

Perhaps it's really true: I'm nothing but a freak

I need to be reminded why I came to be

Instead of being blinded by harsh reality

I've been searching for a sign to end this inner strife

A straight connecting line between myself and life

Who and what I truly am or am I just pretend?

Is everything a total sham or will this tormenet end?

I've been searching for a sign that somehow I belong

Just something to define between right and wrong

Along the way I've missed that I have a purpose here

Or a reason to exist upon this mortal sphere

Inside my dreams I wander through land and circumstance

Pausing just to ponder the secret of this chance

I know an answer's waiting somewhere to be found

But I've been debating if I should just turn around

I've been searching for a sign, a lesson yet untaught

That tells the world I'm fine instead of what I'm not

I looked into the starlight,I gazed upon the earth

Maybe they've been right and I do not have a worth

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Misplaced Not Lost

It Seems to take forever to accomplish or get what you the most, but once done, what else is there? It seems there is nothing left for you to do but then you lose what you worked so hard to get in no time at all. You lose what you hold dear, you lose what you love most. The pain never seems to go away and it feels like your doing nothing but suffering the rest of your life. Suddenly you end it, affraid to suffer anymore but what you don't relise is that what you thought you lost was never lost at all, it was mearly misplaced, but now, it stands above you as you lie under the cold earth, under this stone.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

We had to make a tombstone text in english and I got bored so went overboard.

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Chain of my status Quo..


Ignorance follows me everywhere.

I try to ignore it but it haunts me.

Drugs, alcohol, sex, violence and music

help me to adapt to my hopless enviornment.

I'm doomed to mediocrity

bound by my own roots.

I know nothing else

losing hopes

losing dreams I should not have had.

Drinking my life through a bottle

and pissing it all away

I'm noting

and thats all I'll ever be.

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Could she be falling for him

just thoughts

She cries to much and if always wondering why like she is not good enough anymore she is afraid she will choose the wrong guy like she did last time, screw up like always and never be happy like, a guy likes her and she likes him but she is scared that she will end up feeling more for him than he will feel for her, and she can't handle no more pain she has no way of dealing with it like she use to people will get mad if she does what she use to, she wishes to cut for the blood to poor from here flesh but so many people would be hurt and would hate me and i just can't deal with it anymore, Like all she is ever going to be is a screw up cause and it's almost too much for her to take but she keeps going, only because she knows she has too like she can't do want she wishes she could. She just wishes to be selfish like some people but she can't she just cares too much and don't know how to deal with it so she one day will day and be happy.

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1998 - 2010

The monster I'm sure I've become,

Showed up on camera just the other day.

The lovely white hair and pale blue skin,

It's the best I think I've seen myself.

All that I feel coming out from within,

I don't think a mirror could properly display.

Lies and disgrace pour out from my reflection,

A beauty, a vibrance I can't comprehend.

Distorted, disproportioned dive through the shutter,

Come out in plain view through a picture frame.

The truth lies in this monster I seek

What a mirror sees is a portrait unseen

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written December 1, 2006

based of a picture my friend took of me with the negative setting.

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Standing Memoir

(Written On 11-30-2006)

We’re at a standstill.

Can’t mend time, can’t bend it or remake it.

Still we stare, fear, and dream, always wondering.

Can we continue? Can we handle this?

One reassurance is all we need.

Yet our tainted heart doesn’t mend, only constantly weeps.

Never ending, so tiring, when can we escape this hazed moratorium?  

We’re at a standstill.

Fighting, battling, slaying who we are, what we’ve become.

People’s words bounce around us.

Are we really such a hellish eyed freak?

Can’t be, won’t let them take away the dream.

Morning wanes to evening, vice versa, vice versa.

No one moves, no one sways, still staring, whispering, and deteriorating.

We’re at a standstill.

Pressure keeps building, boiling, climaxing into the widowed sea.

Silence becoming our solitary mourned anthem.

What do you want? What do you think I see?

I see the bleakness of the future, stretching so far I can’t breathe.

What’s the point in caring, when all they do is turn and flee.

Friendship, no one even knows what that word means.

We’re at a standstill.

I see you, plead to you, beg you to make it cease.

Two voices can’t contend, with one prize expectant in the end.

We argue bitter words that cause us pain.

Yet we stare at one another, like a hollowed out shell of a repetitive dream.

Nothing more than a passing glance and it all comes tumbling back.

Lies, demands, and yet so much power lies coiled, held in check.

We’re at a standstill.

Can’t mend time, can’t bend it or remake it.

People’s Words Bounce around us.

What do you want? What do you think I see?

Yet we stare at one another, like a hollowed out shell of a repetitive dream.

Can’t control conditions, emotions, nor the powers manifesting from somewhere inside.

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It's nothing...but it must be something

Did I ruin something again?

    Does he not even wanna be my friend?

Why do I destroy everything in my path?

     I'll lock myself away, so no one else has to deal with my wrath...

Give it sometime?

     And maybe he'll be mine???

I don't know what to do anymore

     All I'm doing is ahowing I'm a whore...

I don't want to be me

      Cuz I aint making anyone happy!

Why does he not see me like that?

      Am I really that bad???

I'm not ready enough, I know....

      I'm so young...I KNOW!

But with him it's different

     I don't feel like shit

I'm not insecure around him....

     And I have been, since way back when (?)

Maybe I'm just being paranoid

      Maybe I should just avoid

The rest of our conversations on this

      We're just gonna be friends...

Forget I said anything....

              FORGET; IT'S NOTHING....

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The Girl You Were Warned About

I'm an innocent heartbreaker

A reluctant bitch and ignorant whore

The one you were warned about

With eyes of an angel

A smile of pure radiance

I lure you in then spit you out

With words of daggers

That with their ice cold tips

Lunge deep into your burning heart

Making it into a black whole

Void of any passion or any thing

I'm a bitch and I know it

Yet I toy with the fragile glass hearts

Of naive boys who think I'm a saint

Speak lies of hearts I will cherish

And love that never exists

Then shatter their dreams

Throw their hearts against a wall

Make them feel like worthless tools

While I move on all the while

To the next innocent boy

Destined to be my upcoming victim

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The love stories told

over hot soup and cold bread

a steaming mug of coffee

and a steel bubble around my head

blocking out the tainting smoke

of cigarettes and discouraged dreams

comfortable in our quaint Utopia

where life is measured by

coffee spoons

and everyone is in love

with the famous


and no one thinks for himself...

Where people decide who you are

and find the meaning of life

in antique shops

Where music flows freely

but only says

what the people can dance to

and not miss a step

Where girls wear pink

and never black

boys where blue

with pressed khaki slacks

shiny shoes and slicked back hair

and they constantly wonder

"Do I dare? Do I dare? -

to drink a cold soda and dance in the rain

get a little dirty and never complain

to tell her I love her

and hold her tiny hand

get milkshakes on the beach

and play in the sand?"

Or do they go on with the world's gentle sway

and quietly, wistfully, come and go

talking of Michelangelo

The boy dates the model

The girl cries in her sleep

They talk through a mask

and never take that leap

Soda's are "different"

and filth is "bad"

So they grab a cup of Joe

and quietly come and go

speaking of no one

but a Michelangelo

Author's Notes/Comments: 

based on a poem I read for Creative Writing class...while this was required work and I was crunched for time, I'm incredibly happy with how it turned out.

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