Baby mine, dry your eyes.
Rest your head close to my heart,
never to part,
baby of mine.
You held the small boy in your arms in your arms, the poor child. He had lost his parents and elder brother in a terrible car accident a few months back and he was the only survivor. You ran your hand through the boys sandy blonde locks that so messy it couldnt be tamed in an act to comfort him. He was so young, 5 years of age. Your heart ached for the child as his blue green eyes spilled out endless tears.
You hugged the child closer to you, trying your very best to comfort him. This child was an orphan now, and needed someone to take care of him. Thats where you came to play; you were a foster mother, it was your job. And you were assigned to take care of this child for two years, unless adopted by another family, until he gets transferred to another foster care mother.
You had learned that this boy had spent his nights crying himself to sleep
If you are offended by ANYTHING yaoi/slash, DO NOT READ! Violence and rape is in the content below, along with cursing, so you have been warned!
The night was bitterly cold, and Alex pulled up his collar to protect his neck. It was cold, and he was sick of walking around.
He had been walking down these cold alleys all night, and hadnt seen any peon constructions, and his usual cheery mood was slowing being chewed away as the night went on.
He sighed, his breath billowing out in a small cloud in front of him as he closed his eyes for a moment. He reached up, pushing his blonde hair back as he spoke into the head piece that hung from his right ear.
Guys, Im exhausted. I havent found anything, and I think this as just some kind of set-up
He said, unable to stop a yawn as he spoke.
A growl of a voice came through, and Alex knew it was Gabriel,
~Bee, stop complaining.~
Im not complaining! Its late, and its freezing out
what sort of person he'll turn out to be.
Is his future set in stone by past history,
can it be determined by the family tree?
When a child is born he's given a name,
a name that when new is free from all blame.
But when he gets older will he still be the same,
or will he cause his parents much suffering and shame?
When a child is born the parents rejoice,
to create a new life is clearly a choice.
But when he grows up will he raise up his voice
against hatred and war and bias with poise?
When a child is born nobody can know,
just what's in store, how the future will go.
But if he is cherished so his spirit can grow,
his name may then honor those who love him so.
like a fist;
crimson cheeked &
I keep your heart in my p(s)alms.
From somewhere else at about midnight
Nights are so quiet over and over again
Sometimes more, sometimes less homely too quietly
Every now and then the star-spattered sky appears, but it appears never complete
A wonderful view of these stars and the black infinity. I can't avoid it. I don't want to
To fall asleep lying under the star-spattered sky is drop-dead gorgeous
Without any persecution, without any fear and anger 'cause anger blinds
This is where I live
The silence and the peace, a kinda celestial peace
Thoughts circle in the most different directions, as is sometimes the case
Not uncommonly worried thoughts as always
I know that many people in the world live in horror and persecution, execution
The reasons are many-sided as well as one-sided
Hypocritical backward ideologies for so much misery in the world are responsible
Environmental disasters unannounced and announced appear one after another
Neglect and the daily grief of children, most to die from neglect
never wanted to be a princess.
it wasn't because she didn't like them,
where other girls saw beauty
and beautiful dresses, silky and soft
she saw power.
she saw a power and a responsibility that
no amount of beauty would
ever make her want
and she read books about
and visited haunted castles
and tried to imagine the kind of life where
people were locked up in towers
and brothers murdered brothers,
she tried to imagine what those
big stone castles would look like at
night, with the lights taken away
and she tried to imagine waking up
the crisp morning air mingling
with the smell of sewage
and sour breath,
and being raised by people
who weren't your mother.
she looked at guillotines
and, in shocking moments of clarity,
imagined herself bound in front of one
heart jumping, lungs aching
panic seeping through her body with nowhere to go.
and then she grew up [and met a special somebod
Hide under there, but dont turn off the lights
They cant see you, so theres nothing to fear
Just make sure you stay hidden out of sight
Dont get out of bed or open the door
Its much safer to stay inside for now
Keep your feet in the sheets, dont touch the floor
Otherwise, they will get to you somehow
Lock the windows and doors; then hide the key
Dont let them in no matter what they say
Ignore the shadows and the things you see
Tomorrow morning it will be okay
Just remember that nothings what it seems
Until the sun rise, I love you, sweet dreams
written in blood,
and words in my head
that cause tears to flood.
I have scarred knuckles
and shattered glass,
I have no reflection
or smiles that last.
I have no heart
which I'm willing to give.
I have no life,
which I'm willing to live.
What can I say,
to make you understand?
Don't grow up, dear,
nothing goes as planned.
You break and shatter,
and forget the starry night.
You cry and turn bitter,
turning away from the light.
You're so young right now,
and ask why I'm so cold.
Just remember, love,
this happens when you grow old.
"Henry!" called Mrs. McCormick, waking her son from what should have been a pleasant afternoon of sleeping in (it was a Sunday after all), "Henry, wake up! It's