Updates: Media (lyrics) has a new layout. I could never figure out how to lay it out, but it's easier to navigate now. I'm still working on a better duplicate Mamblog mod. I'm trying to make submittions easier but the poetry form died for some reason. Quizzes are also on their way from the old site. Joomla content isn't very code friendly so I'm having to rewrite old code. You can still click on News > AH v21 > Screen if you wish to use the quizzes.
When thoughts come they hide from me
In the shortest count of one..two..three.
Although it is not my fault of course
I cannot negotiate or use force
To make them come out and show themselves
In pages stacked upon the shelves.
Yet they may return in different form
As memories all rattled and torn.
So leave my mind or I will put
My memories all in a book
That anyone is free to see
I'm trapped at birth by destiny
From pressure put upon me by
The ones who pray and hope that I
Will grow up smart and devoted to
The things that I believe are true
And follow in the footsteps of
The ones who give and show me love
But pressure they have given me
Along with happiness and the ability to see
That they are the ones I had forgotten to
Thank and say in my own way "I love you"
But now it has grown too late
I have selfishly awaited my fate
The one in which can not be returned
Nor changed for in my time I have learned
That even though my life is hard
I cannot act like I've been scared
By things I put inside my head
That seem like memories long since dead.
The healing process now begins
for someone who not always wins.
my life a lie, my story a book
one that my little boy cousin took
took to his class, his friends and he
used it to make a pot of tea.
tea? No wait, i heard a joke
what happened to the little girl whose leg you broke?
she fell from the steeple on top of a spike
that drove through her heart with all of its might
the humor in that i must not tell
for all through her life she often fell
fell from the cradle her mother rocked
fell from the window that was supposedly locked
fell from the bike she learned to ride
this story i tell is all a lie.
...one for each person i came to know
for the bat hath told me so
this bat i speak of is make of wood
and came to me in my sleep
he took my tooth and gave me a quarter
i've fallen on top of a carnival booth
the little children who played in there
are now crumpled atop of their silken blonde hair
they gave me a look as awful as you,
they came to my side and to the sky i flew
up to the moon i passed on my way
a big little ship, i asked, "could i stay?"
but reluctant are they, for they have little food
caboom....it's for free.
money is something a poor girl lacks
the scars are like railroad tracks on her back
she looks to the left, she looks to the right
she pushes the cart with all of her might
the street she does cross with many a groan
she thinks about all of the wonderful homes
a home she would have the size of a town
she loves little daises, she'd cover the ground
she'd own such a dress with sparkle and lace
and own such a doll with a beautiful face
she opens her eyes for she senses the curb
this wonderful dream she now must disturb
she pushes the cart with all of her might
to hold back the tears she puts up a fight
she keeps on her way but where will she go
for she has not a place that she can call home.
Maybe he's an escaped convict
Who wants some solitude
In his unforgiving life.
Then one night
He screams out in fright
As the killer above
Comes down below
And asks him to dance;
With his swishy hips
And lisp in his voice
His kisses him
Square on the mouth.
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