He listened intently while the patter of the rain against the windowsill came to a stop. "Finally" he thought, "I should make my way to the cemetary now.". Today is the anniversary of the death of his mother. "Oh yes!" he exclaimed. "I mustn't forget flowers". After cutting some roses from a well pampered bush from his home's garden, he headed on his way to the cemetary. The scent of rain still fresh in the air, was overpowered by the man's heavy usage of cologne. Halfway there, he passed his childhood home. Its vacancy seemed to play with his heart, leaving a variety of feelings to be contained by tears in his eyes. Up a stone pathway he found a familiar sight. His mother at rest, peacefully. "she loved the world with an open heart. Her lies Donna B. Shelding, mother of Benjamin G. Shelding". With only one sentence read, Ben's eyes could no longer be dams to his feelings. One year later, and he still feels alone. He put his jacket's hood up to avoid the newly falling rain. His head remained dry, while his face did not. Ben headed home with the flowers still in hand. He was not one to forget. His mother did not care for roses. Daisies were her flower.

We grew up avoiding cracks in the pavement,

grew up bouncing in houses just for bouncing.

We grew up eating icecream without a care in the world, staring at clouds with little dreams in our hearts and stars in our eyes.

Now, once you start growing up you realize that the cracks in the pavement weren't put there by time or weathering, and those bounce houses are just traps for kids to waste their energy so mommy and daddy can go home and get drunk some more without having to worry about dealing with responsibilities.

The clouds become held back tears from angels waiting to cry from the pain they see.

The pain that cracks the sidewalks and destroys you and me. The pain that hurts every time she smiles, every time her song comes on the radio and you look beside you to find an empty passenger seat scowling at you for losing her. The pain that drowns out the music you listen to at night to escape from the way she felt up against you when you were restless and could just roll over and fall in love once more.

The pain that makes blinking so hard to do because once you do it engulfs everything around you destroying all that you once knew, the pain that turns reality into memory only to be brought out by a glass of whiskey and a couple shots of anything you can find.

Hearts weren't meant to be broken,

And sidewalks weren't meant to crack.

You can't avoid the inevitable,

So don't look back.

You make me want to sing to the stars above,

Just you and me, we'll fall in love.

I can't guarantee it'll be perfect but by god I'll die trying.

A devil in angels clothing, telling beautiful truths even when you're lying.

I'll write you down in my notes so you become words on paper, a letter written to the skies above.

A manifesto of our love.

Words so plentiful there won't be enough angels to read then all.

Together we'll be soaring even if we fall.

And under it all,

You'll be my baby and I'll be the one.

So trust in me, our love will be over when our time has come.

The smell of sharpie stink and some time to think.

All I need is me some words and a song to think in tune with, to ride the sound waves into escapades of literary exploration where reading becomes loving, and loving becomes living.

All on a notepad where I can be someone nobody knows, and my only acquaintances are letters and music notes.

Surrounded by surreal sounds of my signature scratched out with a pencil even though I know no one will read it.

No one will read it and I'll remain the same person everyone knows.

The kid who doesn't show what he knows,

With a purpose in mind to make the world a better place and let himself fall in the process.

Selfless acts of character that are so rare it's seen as an abnormality, but that's okay because that word describes me perfectly.

Hence the reason I spend my life writing everything and letting everything fade away into the next day.

An abnormality is what am and I like it.

When the earth cracks and breaks.

When we can speak without hate.

When the world becomes a place where children feel safe, and opinionation is no longer a battleground for wars to be fought.

When the stars up above crash into each other sending fragments of life and death tumbling down into the atmosphere creating a new world for us to live in,

And when the dust covering all the books crying out to be picked up, and examined so that maybe they will somehow influence your ignorant ways is blown off, maybe just to read the cover and put back down.

When the street lights aren't used as tools for those under the influence to get back to their homes to beat the family that they love so much, but instead used as a beacon of hope and inspiration for sleepless boys and girls to dream their dreams awake, instead of in their beds, scared to express themselves because of society's pressures.

Then I will forgive you.

I will forgive you for being the embodiment of everything that starts with the letter "hate", everything that drove me to insanity while you slept soundly in your bed of lies, covered by a blanket of bewilderment to protect you from your own ignorance.

I will forgive you, because you didn't choose to be that way.

Society chose for you.