I have nothing to writeI have nothing to write,
nothing to share.
I am lost for inspiration,
and I don't even care.
So what if I don't write?
It's not like it's good.
So what if I don't draw?
It's not like I ever could.
I don't need to create.
It's all pointless in the end.
I thought I loved my pen and brush,
but they're just false friends.
Engulfed by PainShallowed of an ocean's crest, left buried in sand to neutralize red waters, a seal tied directly upon your chest; left rotting you are by three young daughters.
Within a home of dry soap and marble, bled heavily they did by your very hand, an evening of maelstrom to enrage their minds further; a plot was sliced thickly to bury you into land.
Countless months of torture to bring about meaning, a thought to envelop the darkness of man, one morning to slaughter you without knives or a 'reason;' to the beach you brought them, much singing they began.
Hours and winds to thrust the clock further, lying down you had slumbered and forgotten your reign, a cavern to empty and bury you without screaming; widen your eyes to darkness, breathe within their pain.
Wake me up whenWake me up, when crying is only for those moments that are unbearably beautiful.
Wake me up, when helping someone else, is done genuinely and joyfully.
Wake me up, when society becomes less interested in falsities and more aware of truth.
Wake me up, when equality is real, apparent, strong and inevitable.
Wake me up, when children's innocence is untainted with maturity.
Wake me up, when control is dead and freedom roams wildly.
Wake me up, when poverty only exists in bad decisions.
Wake me up, when money is last, on the peoples to get list.
Wake me up, when power belongs to us, and not the self-proclaimed.
Wake me up, when we heal the earth from our selfishly inflicted lacerations.
Wake me up, when respect is our international anthem.
Wake me up, when love is all we know, and fear is suffocated by it.
Wake me up, when strength is nurtured and weakness buried.
Wake me up, when beauty is appreciated for all its imperfections.
Wake me up, when conformity is drowning in an ocean of imagina