Iron BirdsIron birds create the clouds,that cut the sky in two,and at once they shrink the world,killing the concepts of me and you.
Poem 1How can people feel depressed,when everything seems fine?Even when there's nothing wrong,in their mind they soldier on,fighting back an invisible je ne sais qua.Maybe we all are missing something,but we never wonder what?We just sit and live with that hole inside,while our mood, from contentment, slides,Drifting down to a sorry statewhere a smile is just a lieand a frown betrays the truth inside.
The Skeletons And IWe spent the night in the graveyard,The skeletons and I,They slumber six feet under,While I sit nearby and ponder,On how they cannot walk, or talk,Or smile, or dance,Or hate,Or judge,Or scorn,Or kill...Some say true depression,Is to be envious of the dead,Then why do I feel such sadness,Yet not wish this fate upon myself?To me is seems those who choose,To hate, or judge, or scorn, or kill,Should be lying in the graveyard,With the skeletons and I.
Human ExistenceStart with Physical,And End With Emotional,Life, Death. Pain Connects.