Cracks across the surface of the white,
smooth is now broken exposing light,
goop falls down and sizzles the end,
the devotion to its perfection is pretend,
stirs of heated clear turns white golding,
in the middle is yellow and bursts when folding,
slapped on some toast with salted pepper flakes,
as the time eaten was not the cooking time takes.

The singing was bad and the music was loud,
the parents of the child told he was not allowed,
to listen to metal and heavy core rock,
all the avenues towards it they would block,
they wanted him to listen to soft meaningful songs,
because to them heavy meant it was all the wrongs,
giving him mellow songs from the heart,
some were nice and some were smart,
the lyrics were sang in a sweet voice,
he listened to them being his only choice,
as the days went by and his attitude changed,
even his bedroom was completely rearranged,
the parents were happy about their sons new way,
until the socializing the very next day,
he was rude and obnoxious to all the guests,
his father told him to be nice he suggests,
but this only fueled the anger inside,
to which the parents eyes opened wide,
among those songs and lyrics was hidden hate,
which fed into his mind and made him irate,
while inside the metal was suggestive good,
and this is why the parents misunderstood.

Hammer down with sentence read,
charge him guilty and make him dead,
he killed another and more because sick,
but no medicine is made for this prick,
cut him just like he did others,
leaving grieving sisters and brothers,
end his life quick so we feel good,
but that is what makes him understood,
burn him body until nothing there,
or leave him to rot because we don't care,
at the end of it all isn't it enough death,
but they won't be satisfied until his last breath.

The curling of the fingers digs deep,
waking them from the darkest sleep,
their terrors inside war between,
among the dreams of imaginations seen,
teeth and nails with shadows hide,
with straining of eyelids open too wide,
voices screamed the broken haunts,
after the evils grin with unlimited taunts,
nightmares filled with hurt break through,
grabbing to bring back something new,
falling into the deepest dreamed holes,
as they drag their blackened souls,
inside the nightmare of a child's mind,
leaving the world they knew behind.

Once the love began to speak,
gaining strength from weak,
once it gripped a hold tight,
no ending was in sight,
once it gathered me whole,
my heart was what it stole,
once upon a time forgot,
was when i loved alot,
once it showed me i could care,
now the love is all we share.

Death will come in its own good time,
as it can be the punishment for a crime,
an accidental stop when going along,
or it can happen when we do something wrong,
some are alive but seem dead already,
and getting old means hands never steady,
it is inevitable for all who live today,
as it will happen in the future someday,
so live your life for happiness surrounding within,
and if you haven't done so maybe its time to begin.

the more we grow,
the more we know,
but being happy is what to show,

tight shoes tap down the concrete track,
as the killer awaits for the right moment to attack,
holding a knife concealed behind the wrist,
with a moment coming that he cannot resist,
slipping past with knife out and across,
his victim collapses due to blood loss,
a spreading pool of red expands,
as the victim reached with shaking hands,
pupils cover the colours of the eye,
as the life fades to forever die.

A book was written with lies,
telling a story of a man who dies,
but no proof in existence of it being true,
believed by many but they never knew,
hoped to give hope when helplessly alone,
a explanation but never a truth was shown,
held in high regard as something fact,
and used by some for personal reasons attract,
the true purpose of its existence is not used,
as i believe in myself and this is easily refused.

I do it all most of the time,
clean with cleaners of messy grime,
constricted neck in an office of heat,
not hungry until others eat,
through the sunshine of the day,
go home when all gone away,
look forwards to that day off,
but usually get infected with a cough,
return to work tired from sleep,
with always a new mess to sweep,
paper stacked and neatly filed,
after a weekend of going completely wild.