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tried to take a picture..of love
I wanna fill this new frame..but it's empty
im different, im not important..the freak man who too much thinking about all tragedies in the world. I believe there is a hero in all of us. but sometimes we sacrifice the things we love. but love is the hardest thing to sacrifice..
"blessed be-and remember, you are beautiful, and you are loved"
I wanna fill this new frame..but it's empty
profile
who am I ?
im different, im not important..the freak man who too much thinking about all tragedies in the world. I believe there is a hero in all of us. but sometimes we sacrifice the things we love. but love is the hardest thing to sacrifice..
"blessed be-and remember, you are beautiful, and you are loved"
tried to write a letter..in ink..
i've got a peice of paper..but it's empty..
The snow settled on the old pine trees like an x-ray,
searching out some kind of cancer,
and the best that I can do is wonder
just exactly what you'd say about it.
I was seven--almost eight, bouncing on a knee,
and if I'd known anything of war
not played with flimsy, dull-edged cards
around an old extendable kitchen table
every two Sundays, I might have asked.
I'll bet it changes people, war, I mean.
Lead-tipped and trigger-operated
death, strafing all those mothers' sons,
mortars like small-town fireworks,
and everything I've read about.
It's cold here, and my footprints explode
into this inch or two, and then disappear,
lost with each gust of wind. And if I could,
I'd ask how a kid no older than me
can get sent to hell and live to talk about it.
i've got a peice of paper..but it's empty..
Questions for My Grandfather
Saturday, November 22, 2008 ( 3:14 AM )
The snow settled on the old pine trees like an x-ray,
searching out some kind of cancer,
and the best that I can do is wonder
just exactly what you'd say about it.
I was seven--almost eight, bouncing on a knee,
and if I'd known anything of war
not played with flimsy, dull-edged cards
around an old extendable kitchen table
every two Sundays, I might have asked.
I'll bet it changes people, war, I mean.
Lead-tipped and trigger-operated
death, strafing all those mothers' sons,
mortars like small-town fireworks,
and everything I've read about.
It's cold here, and my footprints explode
into this inch or two, and then disappear,
lost with each gust of wind. And if I could,
I'd ask how a kid no older than me
can get sent to hell and live to talk about it.
Labels: journey of life
if we..should be getting under
these sheets..we could lie in this bed..but it's empty
these sheets..we could lie in this bed..but it's empty
random quotations
i think they call it freedom of speech
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maybe we're trying..
trying too hard..maybe we're torn apart..
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thanks to DancingSheep
trying too hard..maybe we're torn apart..
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watch me waste my life away
March 2008
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thanks to DancingSheep
maybe the timing..
is beating our hearts..we're empty..
EMPTY
song by Click Five
tried to take a picture, of love..
didn't think I'd miss her, that much..
I want to fill this new frame
but its empty
tried to write a letter, in ink..
its been getting better, I think..
I got a piece of paper
but its empty
its empty
maybe we're trying
trying too hard
maybe we're torn apart
maybe the timing
is beating our hearts
we're empty
and I've even wondered, if we..
should be getting under, these sheets..
we could lie in this bed
but its empty
its empty
maybe we're trying
trying too hard
maybe we're torn apart
maybe the timing
is beating our hearts
we're empty
oh oh
oh oh
oooooh
oh oh
oh oh
maybe we're trying
trying too hard
maybe we're torn apart
maybe the timing
is beating our hearts
we're empty
we're empty
we're empty
download song here (right click save as)
is beating our hearts..we're empty..
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EMPTY
song by Click Five
download song here (right click save as)