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Why can't I fight, why can't I cry, why can't I bite, why can't I sigh? What's happened to my emotions, where have they gone? Wiped away as I washed my hair, accompanied by the brisk reflective stare, but oh yes, I forgot to mention, I did never see my face, did I ever try to have that break, did I ever just once try to make what I could of the life I could have led, instead of just waiting around to be spoon-fed, walked to the piers by a helping hand, take a boat, don't worry, they'll understand. You won't have to do anything, you won't have to think, you'll be led along like sheep, to the stream of life we drink, but I'm sure I'm asleep, I'm missing something, I must be, and then comes the sweet ting, and then I'll see, that after all, it wasn't me, I was just lumbered with the fool I carry around inside my head, the idiot that wants to drag me down, to tell me to go drown in my dreamless well, but I'm fine, or so I say, because however much I try to stand tall, I suppose we're all just selfish, after all.
I am a man with no mirror, yet I know my face is horrible, when I speak I do shiver, waiting for my mind to be soluble, so I can water it down and feed it around, because I'd rather it spoke to you than me, it's taught me all I could ever see, but now I really want to break free, and let my mind speak in the same language as you, because to be honest, I haven't a clue, on where I must start to find a reason to live... maybe I have one, maybe I do, but when you start to dream it, it just seems untrue, because it seems like an ending, not a start, and if I close my eyes and just hear my heart, it beats in the tune of the love I do have, but only drowned by the watching sea of laughter, and it's hard not to think there's no happy ever after...
For I tried so hard to help us all, all I wanted was for us to stand tall, it kept me alive, it gave me a life, to not fall to the floor, and let rip with the knife... I just wanted to make everyone happy, to help them just see, that there's more to life than anger, wars, or to disagree... because we could never understand that we all had our own lives... we refused to be different but together, but the same and apart, I care little for myself, but that did break my heart. I don't have the courage to carry on like this, because it just seems I'm beating at brick walls none of you want me to break through... beating and praying that perhaps we can all just sit back and smile, and encourage everyone together... not leave it to others, or the one that we all trust... because he has needs too, he was just too upset to say... all he wanted was to see people happy, to see them just stay... and... communicate. But he's afraid it's all lost, he's afraid it's too late... because he's lost his heart, for it's beat is long gone, only the echo of a distant love that fades away... for he has nothing to live for, but that's why he must, because he won't forgive himself for failing, for having their trust, and then ruining it all, not standing so tall, like they all thought he would, like they all thought he could. But oh no, so wrong, not without a help... for his back is too weak to carry on like this, when all he really needed, was that long lasting kiss.
And he tries to speak, and he really would, for all his writing was just misunderstood, and to pray that perhaps they would be at least one, that could read between the lines and see he was dying, instead of scratching their heads and giving up on trying... and there was... but there's nothing left now, just more versions of this, over and over, because for all his emotion there is a small passage, a harbour that tells only what he tried to say, understood or not, at least it's there, so you can all go back and just sit and stare. Ah well. I tried. I really did. But I'm just no leader, in the bringing together of a sense of a word... I'm just selfish... because the life I led myself was just a sweet dream, no real direction because it was too far-fetched... a job that would be perfect, a wife, two children and a home by the sand... heh, and hell, I'd take them all by the hand... but it was just a dream. Just a dream. Something I don't want to wake from, but refuse to work for in fear of waking also.
I don't want to climb a ladder all on my own... I want to climb it with others, all of us, so we can look above the lights of the city and be proud for once, not just for ourselves that we lived to see this, but for all of us. We all made it. We lived for our dreams.
But it WAS all just a dream, wasn't it?
I am a man with no mirror, yet I know my face is horrible, when I speak I do shiver, waiting for my mind to be soluble, so I can water it down and feed it around, because I'd rather it spoke to you than me, it's taught me all I could ever see, but now I really want to break free, and let my mind speak in the same language as you, because to be honest, I haven't a clue, on where I must start to find a reason to live... maybe I have one, maybe I do, but when you start to dream it, it just seems untrue, because it seems like an ending, not a start, and if I close my eyes and just hear my heart, it beats in the tune of the love I do have, but only drowned by the watching sea of laughter, and it's hard not to think there's no happy ever after...
For I tried so hard to help us all, all I wanted was for us to stand tall, it kept me alive, it gave me a life, to not fall to the floor, and let rip with the knife... I just wanted to make everyone happy, to help them just see, that there's more to life than anger, wars, or to disagree... because we could never understand that we all had our own lives... we refused to be different but together, but the same and apart, I care little for myself, but that did break my heart. I don't have the courage to carry on like this, because it just seems I'm beating at brick walls none of you want me to break through... beating and praying that perhaps we can all just sit back and smile, and encourage everyone together... not leave it to others, or the one that we all trust... because he has needs too, he was just too upset to say... all he wanted was to see people happy, to see them just stay... and... communicate. But he's afraid it's all lost, he's afraid it's too late... because he's lost his heart, for it's beat is long gone, only the echo of a distant love that fades away... for he has nothing to live for, but that's why he must, because he won't forgive himself for failing, for having their trust, and then ruining it all, not standing so tall, like they all thought he would, like they all thought he could. But oh no, so wrong, not without a help... for his back is too weak to carry on like this, when all he really needed, was that long lasting kiss.
And he tries to speak, and he really would, for all his writing was just misunderstood, and to pray that perhaps they would be at least one, that could read between the lines and see he was dying, instead of scratching their heads and giving up on trying... and there was... but there's nothing left now, just more versions of this, over and over, because for all his emotion there is a small passage, a harbour that tells only what he tried to say, understood or not, at least it's there, so you can all go back and just sit and stare. Ah well. I tried. I really did. But I'm just no leader, in the bringing together of a sense of a word... I'm just selfish... because the life I led myself was just a sweet dream, no real direction because it was too far-fetched... a job that would be perfect, a wife, two children and a home by the sand... heh, and hell, I'd take them all by the hand... but it was just a dream. Just a dream. Something I don't want to wake from, but refuse to work for in fear of waking also.
I don't want to climb a ladder all on my own... I want to climb it with others, all of us, so we can look above the lights of the city and be proud for once, not just for ourselves that we lived to see this, but for all of us. We all made it. We lived for our dreams.
But it WAS all just a dream, wasn't it?
davyboy wrote:
"It was good but im sure you can do better"
Thanks. That's what I say to myself everytime I do something.
"It was good but im sure you can do better"
Thanks. That's what I say to myself everytime I do something.
Seriously, no sarcasm. :0D
I'll read your story now in return. :0)
I'll read your story now in return. :0)
*scanning for sarcasm*
I could not have asked for a better reply. :0D Thanks. :0D
how do you know your face is horrible if you have no mirror to see it?
can you read my first chapter of fire sword. its my first real go at a story and i need some critism. thanks
can you read my first chapter of fire sword. its my first real go at a story and i need some critism. thanks
Why can't I fight, why can't I cry, why can't I bite, why can't I sigh? What's happened to my emotions, where have they gone? Wiped away as I washed my hair, accompanied by the brisk reflective stare, but oh yes, I forgot to mention, I did never see my face, did I ever try to have that break, did I ever just once try to make what I could of the life I could have led, instead of just waiting around to be spoon-fed, walked to the piers by a helping hand, take a boat, don't worry, they'll understand. You won't have to do anything, you won't have to think, you'll be led along like sheep, to the stream of life we drink, but I'm sure I'm asleep, I'm missing something, I must be, and then comes the sweet ting, and then I'll see, that after all, it wasn't me, I was just lumbered with the fool I carry around inside my head, the idiot that wants to drag me down, to tell me to go drown in my dreamless well, but I'm fine, or so I say, because however much I try to stand tall, I suppose we're all just selfish, after all.
I am a man with no mirror, yet I know my face is horrible, when I speak I do shiver, waiting for my mind to be soluble, so I can water it down and feed it around, because I'd rather it spoke to you than me, it's taught me all I could ever see, but now I really want to break free, and let my mind speak in the same language as you, because to be honest, I haven't a clue, on where I must start to find a reason to live... maybe I have one, maybe I do, but when you start to dream it, it just seems untrue, because it seems like an ending, not a start, and if I close my eyes and just hear my heart, it beats in the tune of the love I do have, but only drowned by the watching sea of laughter, and it's hard not to think there's no happy ever after...
For I tried so hard to help us all, all I wanted was for us to stand tall, it kept me alive, it gave me a life, to not fall to the floor, and let rip with the knife... I just wanted to make everyone happy, to help them just see, that there's more to life than anger, wars, or to disagree... because we could never understand that we all had our own lives... we refused to be different but together, but the same and apart, I care little for myself, but that did break my heart. I don't have the courage to carry on like this, because it just seems I'm beating at brick walls none of you want me to break through... beating and praying that perhaps we can all just sit back and smile, and encourage everyone together... not leave it to others, or the one that we all trust... because he has needs too, he was just too upset to say... all he wanted was to see people happy, to see them just stay... and... communicate. But he's afraid it's all lost, he's afraid it's too late... because he's lost his heart, for it's beat is long gone, only the echo of a distant love that fades away... for he has nothing to live for, but that's why he must, because he won't forgive himself for failing, for having their trust, and then ruining it all, not standing so tall, like they all thought he would, like they all thought he could. But oh no, so wrong, not without a help... for his back is too weak to carry on like this, when all he really needed, was that long lasting kiss.
And he tries to speak, and he really would, for all his writing was just misunderstood, and to pray that perhaps they would be at least one, that could read between the lines and see he was dying, instead of scratching their heads and giving up on trying... and there was... but there's nothing left now, just more versions of this, over and over, because for all his emotion there is a small passage, a harbour that tells only what he tried to say, understood or not, at least it's there, so you can all go back and just sit and stare. Ah well. I tried. I really did. But I'm just no leader, in the bringing together of a sense of a word... I'm just selfish... because the life I led myself was just a sweet dream, no real direction because it was too far-fetched... a job that would be perfect, a wife, two children and a home by the sand... heh, and hell, I'd take them all by the hand... but it was just a dream. Just a dream. Something I don't want to wake from, but refuse to work for in fear of waking also.
I don't want to climb a ladder all on my own... I want to climb it with others, all of us, so we can look above the lights of the city and be proud for once, not just for ourselves that we lived to see this, but for all of us. We all made it. We lived for our dreams.
But it WAS all just a dream, wasn't it?
I am a man with no mirror, yet I know my face is horrible, when I speak I do shiver, waiting for my mind to be soluble, so I can water it down and feed it around, because I'd rather it spoke to you than me, it's taught me all I could ever see, but now I really want to break free, and let my mind speak in the same language as you, because to be honest, I haven't a clue, on where I must start to find a reason to live... maybe I have one, maybe I do, but when you start to dream it, it just seems untrue, because it seems like an ending, not a start, and if I close my eyes and just hear my heart, it beats in the tune of the love I do have, but only drowned by the watching sea of laughter, and it's hard not to think there's no happy ever after...
For I tried so hard to help us all, all I wanted was for us to stand tall, it kept me alive, it gave me a life, to not fall to the floor, and let rip with the knife... I just wanted to make everyone happy, to help them just see, that there's more to life than anger, wars, or to disagree... because we could never understand that we all had our own lives... we refused to be different but together, but the same and apart, I care little for myself, but that did break my heart. I don't have the courage to carry on like this, because it just seems I'm beating at brick walls none of you want me to break through... beating and praying that perhaps we can all just sit back and smile, and encourage everyone together... not leave it to others, or the one that we all trust... because he has needs too, he was just too upset to say... all he wanted was to see people happy, to see them just stay... and... communicate. But he's afraid it's all lost, he's afraid it's too late... because he's lost his heart, for it's beat is long gone, only the echo of a distant love that fades away... for he has nothing to live for, but that's why he must, because he won't forgive himself for failing, for having their trust, and then ruining it all, not standing so tall, like they all thought he would, like they all thought he could. But oh no, so wrong, not without a help... for his back is too weak to carry on like this, when all he really needed, was that long lasting kiss.
And he tries to speak, and he really would, for all his writing was just misunderstood, and to pray that perhaps they would be at least one, that could read between the lines and see he was dying, instead of scratching their heads and giving up on trying... and there was... but there's nothing left now, just more versions of this, over and over, because for all his emotion there is a small passage, a harbour that tells only what he tried to say, understood or not, at least it's there, so you can all go back and just sit and stare. Ah well. I tried. I really did. But I'm just no leader, in the bringing together of a sense of a word... I'm just selfish... because the life I led myself was just a sweet dream, no real direction because it was too far-fetched... a job that would be perfect, a wife, two children and a home by the sand... heh, and hell, I'd take them all by the hand... but it was just a dream. Just a dream. Something I don't want to wake from, but refuse to work for in fear of waking also.
I don't want to climb a ladder all on my own... I want to climb it with others, all of us, so we can look above the lights of the city and be proud for once, not just for ourselves that we lived to see this, but for all of us. We all made it. We lived for our dreams.
But it WAS all just a dream, wasn't it?