What Wonderland means to meEvery sign pointing left says rightEvery cliff bears the colour of insanityAnd following the white rabbitLeads to a Garden of EdenWhere the roses sing dirgesAnd the daisies sing in protestAnd push weeds awayBut I’m not a weed.Following the rabbit furtherLeads to a tea partyOf a man of high skill but low sanityAnd a march harePouring the most rareBlack orange teaAnd yelling around the tableCreating a surreal dream come trueAs the energy is always highAs I never have any teaTrying to follow the rabbitLeads to a messOf crossed paths that go forward and backAnd twistAnd go alongside wallsTo confuse the crazyAnd annoy the logicalTo the sadistic delightOf a cat with the grin of a crescent moonWho leads me to a castle.Following the catLeads me to a queenThat is madder than the hatterBecause they painted her roses redAnd they’re dragged awayAs more create hoopsFor a porcupine to roll throughIn a game I can never winBut after a whileEven a queen
Writing without a museIt's like fighting without handsPossiblebut not very easyStruggling to find every proper wordAching for the perfect metaphorBeating yourself over the head to make no mistakeAnd every line you deleteCould've made the poem betterYou don't know anymoreIt's goneIn many ways it's an internal warWith ideas dive bombing kamikaze pilotsAnd tanks firing at nuclear plantsAnd rational thoughtBecomes another form of insanityBecause there is no golden shimmerTo give you inspiration to writeIt's like fighting without causeWhy?
As the cannon dancesCome gather round children and let me tell you a taleA story of hope and a man of great frailLiving up high on a mountain of goldGiving his title up when he is too oldBut never giving up his stancesAs the cannon dancesCome gather round folks as I sing you this dirgeAs I tell you the tale of man's year old scourgeSending a storm over the desert landsKilling more lives than saving handsEvery ghost on the field sways its headEvery poppy on cross drinks itself deadCome gather round people from far and nearAs I tell you a tale that ruins your fearNo war will end when you shatter a storeNo riot will stop because you make a man soarFor neither will give up there stancesAs the picture enhancesGo scatter my friends hide yourselves hereThe tale never ends when we’re all full of wearEvery riot has and end but no one wants to live itEvery war has a start but no one believes itSo pick up the sword and fight the wrong causeOr pick up the shield and defend their applause
Art is not a hobby to meToday I learned that I’m not going to be anythingI’m going to be a starving artistBroken with nobody there for meWith only a few measly cents in my pocketsWorthless pennies and equally annoying dimesEven though I know more than my teacher’s thinkI can tell you the biggest problems with human societyAnd why graduation being a requirement is stupidI can tell you every way the school system can be improvedBut I can’t understand mathI can't remember a chapter I read in a booknor hand in my workAnd school doesn’t want me to explain every detail about a world I can createOr everything I learn from education channels on YouTubeBecause I don’t hand in my workAnd the only reason they care about thatIs because they put too much faith in meTo understand that my answer is most likely the sameAs it was the year beforeAnd because my plan is not to sit aloneIn a white wash buildingFull of men in suitsTyping up filesDoesn’t mean my plan
60 seconds a hero, a life-time of being dirtWe fight your warsAs the men and women you neededWe protect your rightsand freedoms you take for grantedWe are visible to youOn the day you celebrate usWe are visible to youthe day we mourn our lossWe lose millionsBut not to warand thousands sufferBecause of itWe have no homesYou expected us to dieWe have no hopesAnd we want to dieWhy do you forget we existAnd think our struggles are meaningless?Why are we unforgivable?Why are we the ruined?We are only celebratedOn the day you chooseBut several thousand of usHave given all we can lose
Ballad of the Vampiric BardOn the night of the full moonA song drifts through the airA dirge of hope, a carol of deathBut the sound doesn’t come from anywhereListen close to the howlAnd how it tells its taleListen to the criesOf fear and betrayalBlood runs coldSwallowed by the fieldsListen toThe broken hearted dealsThe center of the darkest forestWhere the trees are out of breathwhere ruins and corpses lie in shameThe vampiric bard plays his tune of death