In a Beautiful Place

Voices lie in the tubes of your ears, Whispering unfathomable lies To your delicate mind. Who do they think they are? Wheels turn over and over again, Like the tires of a worn bicycle, Just trying to reach it's destination safely. What is their fate? You sit in your bed with vacant eyes, Shying away from any pain; Keeping to yourself is easier. Who do you know you are? Don't allow their lies to tangle into your dreams; I believe in you, child. We all believe in your kindness. Do you know how much we care? Believe that you are worth it, dear. Because no one can pull hope away From my own family. I'm here, Steadfast against voices that trip through our doorway.

You would think this place was a ghost town If it weren't for the kickboxing class down the street. Houses sit on the edge of the brook With paint chipping, windows boarded, And a sense of abandonment sitting on the porch. Cobwebs creep up the railings Like disease in a third world country. Dreams lie in the cracked windowpanes, Waiting for someone to notice them. Down the street people buy pizza, Get their nails done, sit in an empty restaurant. The most action this little town sees  Is trapped in cases at their quiet video store. A girls who grew up in the suburbs Is lost in this kind of place. You would think this place was a ghost town At this time of the day when all is silent; But I'm sure the residents lives are filled with schedules Their yards filled with history molded by their own hands; Their annual blueberry festival makes them proud, Despite the ghosts that outsiders see lurking in town. While tourists must think it's ...

The summer breeze catches on the trees Like a criminal's shirt on barbed wire But this breeze does not frighten me I'm already caught in the summer sunshine

Trees line concrete streets filled with bustle of humankind But all they are Are reminders of what once was Yet it is fascinating That they have the willpower to live When their destruction means ours