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Truly Dead?

When I tell you I am dead
And you look at me,
As though looking at an animal in a zoo
I wonder
Are you truly alive?
Do you feel like you once felt?
Do you still have that childlike innocence?
I suspect not

Yet, when I tell you I am dead
You stare at me
As though I am a madman
An animal
Caged within my own thoughts
I admit
I feel like that sometimes
And maybe you are right

But take a look around
Through the bustling streets
Through Manchester
Las Vegas
Tokyo
Look deeper
Look beyond the fur coats
Look beyond the Gucci handbags
Look into the souls of the masses

What would you see?
Stress?
Fear?
War, Rascism?
Need I go on?
The list is almost endless
Or is there just nothing?
There is little pride in what we have accomplised
We have almost destroyed ourselves

If we are nothing more
That what is on the outside
Are we so different?
From the bones beneath our feet?


Futility

Every Day is a new day
Every war is a struggle for peace
Every new country is a new regieme
Will the modern bloodshed ever cease?

We say that we are civilised
This war is to bring about good
We just ignore the killing fields
Split from the hands of a child, innocent blood

"He kills his own cilivians
"Whereas, we just make mistakes"
"Well how the hell were we to know
That all the weapons were fakes?"

Mr Bush I ask you
How can you stand and stare?
And watch as children are blown away
How can you not care?

There's children crying in the streets
Mr Bush, your hands are stained
With the blood of the innocents
By your bombs, dead, injured, maimed

But I'm not just talking of America
I mean the each country on the Earth
It's time we stopped these mindless deaths
And see each life has its own worth

So I sit

And so I sit
Beneath the tree
The burning desire
Fills me again
And I feel for the knife
No knife
No scissors
Not even a twig
The feeling burns
Writhes
Twists inside me
Agony
It screams
To be let out
To jump from the veins
To scar the floor
I long for the red
The purple liquid
To spill, leak
Burst from the surface
But there is no relief
No release
So I return to the classroom
And pretend to be me

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Broken Home:

True Love: Ha, don't make me laugh
Love - it's just a word
It doesn't exist, not anymore
Maybe it did, once, in the old days
When passion still flared
And hearts were still set alight
But today, no more
True Love is a myth; a fairytale
For those fear loneliness
There is no such thing - only the illusions
Of the lost and betrayed
"One day, my prince will come
To sweep me off my feet"
I don't mean to be harsh - but what chance is there
Really?
Stand back and think about it
Just for a moment
Your soul mate?
Out of 6.6 billion people?
What chances are there of meeting?
And what if you do?
Meet I mean
Big fancy wedding
All the relatives invited
Six months down the line
Divorce
But you're already pregnant
And so is his other girlfriend
And his secretary
And the waitress at the bar
Or if not that
What?
The bruises, they show you know
Don't think you can hide it
The relationship may last longer
1 Year
5 Years
16 Years
And then,
Divorce,
Violence,
Alcoholism,
Affairs
And then what happens
What about the kids?
Molly and Ben
Age 6 and 16
School becomes hard
But they still fit in
Most parents are split now you know
Especially in this area
They'll get over it
They'll have to
So you split
Go through court
Argue over custody until the kinds end up in care
And then what?
Of course:
You go looking for another guy
To fix your broken heart

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