Broken

 

 

Broken, Torn, A boy wishing he was never born. Lost, Confussed, Thinking he was abused messed up mind.

only one thing he could call his. Its love that he'll never give up. Just wanting that one person to seek his happyness for the rest of his life.

 

 

 Shattered, Careless, words unspoken trying to fix the mirror that has never been broken. Trust mislead trust refussed only turning into a black and blue bruise. Still so much to learn so much to see, part of this life style just isnt the real me.

 

 

 So miss led in his part of life the games aren't fun anymore in the messed up drug life. He's wanting a way out not seeing and open door it's never fun when being called a whore. That's why words never hurt anymore because I always ignore and keep walking through another door.

 

 

when crying out for help and never to be herd starting to feel nothing a numbless pain. Thinking i'm never going to win this game. The game of life is my key to success i will always stand out of all the rest. this part of life is just a numbless pain. In the end i will rise above all my pain drove my mind insane.

 

 

Crying and crying still no where to go. only floating with the flow time to grow let me fly, no more letting pain get to me and wasiting time.

 

Freedom

 
   Time equals freedom, Freedoms open heart. Love is the lovingess that can never be torn apart. Democracy is goverment, Goverment is jail we're all suffering before our bail. One thing to ask another is to answer, Most confussing parts is there's never and answer.

 

 

To confussed? So is life these are the things i was told in my past life. War isn't everything this part isn't right I don't know about you but this just does'nt feel right. Should'nt this be wrong? we are all tought that this is right. Are we right or are we wrong? i dont know anymore does this world even belong?

 

 

where's my freedom? My freedom of speach you only want to sit there and teach teach teach.

 

Art

 
   Art is such a beautiful sight something amazing even in the middle of the night. The sky, The trees even the grass that grows watching every second as hearing the water flows. The sun rays through the clouds has and amazing light looking just right.

 

 

Lighting flashes (no sound) watching the power shine across this darkening sky. Strong winds so powerful from a huge funnel seing a huge tornato. From disasters to art in a frame like how a picture has been taken truly these sort of storms have been mistaken.

 

 

 Art is everything from a picture on the wall to graffiti on trains. Cars off the streets how it sits just right to a model to a plane to a bridge off the water maybe to a shore. By a beat to a lyric to a poem to a song art is every where no matter where you belong.

Summer chill

 
   A quiet room can mean so many things, Peace at last clearing my mind crying when no one is around. Dimmed lights, Hearing the sound of crickets. Sitting on the couch watching the ceiling fan spin with the windows up feeling the warm summer breeze.

 

 

 So peaceful and nice finally not even worried of the time happy and glad to sit and relax. Quietness helps out the mind, Soul, Spirits bringing little birds to sing. So

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Robert Chaney
Bildmaterialien: Garry A. Cagle
Lektorat: Garry A. Cagle
Übersetzung: n/a
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 31.12.2014
ISBN: 978-3-7368-6766-6

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