Story 1
No one always tells the truth,
Everyone likes better to lie,
No one keeps their promises,
That they would keep me alive,
No one wants to see the tears,
But they're not afraid to make,
No one wants to watch me crumble,
Though honesty they'll fake
Why does everything I love get torn from me?
I'm sure you've heard a hundred times,
But sorrow please let me be,
Just a day I want to live that I don't think of home,
Because here I'm by myself a lot,
Once I was never alone,
You'd think by now these impressions would fade,
But they're set here to linger,
I have self inflicted scars from my elbow to my finger,
Nothing ever happens, no one even sees,
That behind this curtain is the broken, bloodied me,
It's true I write with anger and sadness,
For of all my emotions those are strongest,
This deep, deep, resentment towards the world,
For making me a woman when I want to be a girl,
I loved planting trees and watching scary tv,
Now I'm afraid to go outside, hate's like angry bees,
And no one seems to notice,
No one seems to care,
They've heard this story,
Too many times,
To give a single hair,
Well I know that this will fade,
After all it's just hormones, right?
I really hope my teacher wasn't lying that night,
That one day these cuts will leave,
On another way,
I hope someday I'll find my smile,
That seemed to run away.
Story 2
Sometimes I get lonely
Instagram, Twitter, Facebook
Always connecting but not connected
Sometimes I get lonely
Looking to the future
Forgetting to be in the present
Sometimes I get lonely
Thinking someday, one day
Never thinking right here, right now
Sometimes I get lonely
Phone's on, WiFi's up
Waiting for it to buzz
Sometimes I get lonely
Just waiting...
Always waiting...
Story 3
The welcome mat outside my door
is dusty, old & worn
'cuz people have been entering in
since the day that I was born
Most people find my home
to be secure, peaceful, fun
A place you can be yourself,
hang out, enjoy the sun
The walls are splashed with color
each room's a different hue
The halls are adorned with pictures
Some old, some new
There are lots of empty guest rooms
At your beck and call
But there's one room that's off-limits
The one at the end of the hall
This room is the oldest,
been empty many years
Now all it holds is memories,
of pain, lost innocence, tears
In the back stands a closet
locked many years before
A door that will never be opened,
padlocked to keep it secure
Have you ever heard the sound
of rattling bones?
It's an eerie, creepy sound
when on and on it drones.
/i didn't mean to put that last 1 in bold mb\\
