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I'll Speak in Riddles so You can Understand...

...I'll Write in Pencil so You can Trace with Pen

Created on 2004-08-02 11:44:46 (#4038958), last updated 2007-07-17

534 comments received, 499 comments posted

Basic Account [Gift]

255 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 3 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 1 Userpic

Basic Info

Name:	Matt The Asian
Location:	Kalamazoo, Michigan, United States
Website:	My Community Journal

Contact:

rolloutura22@yahoo.com

Bio

I'll be the Best Mistake you'll ever make.
This Journal; is my personal journal. DO NOT
promote here; I'll kill you. I won't add just anyone. Think you make the cut? Add me first and then fill out the application.

My community journal:

xlostonearthx.

The Asian; I'll be the one to leave my mark and make a difference.

You think you know but you have no idea. Don't judge me for my mistakes. I don't judge you for yours. I don't want advice on how to live my life from anyone until they've walked in my shoes. Perfection is not in my blood, but perseverence is. I wake up every morning and face every problem thrown at me. I'm still breathing. I'm still here. You can at least give me that much respect. Failing is not an option. I will succeed. I will leave my mark. I will make a difference.

I wear my emotions on my sleeve, but tuck them under often. I express myself through art. I write when I'm inspired. I dance away my problems and sing away my sorrows.

This One's for the Kids
They took sip after sip Indulging themselves All the way to obscurity And handed him a glass Hoping he'd forget They were called His "parents" As they all belligerently Raised their glasses and cheered "This One's for the Kids" She straightened his collar And handed him his lunch In the brown paper bag she so Thoughtfully bought Then smacked him a good one Because he forgot To say thank you And told him to read the note That she left in his lunch which read "This One's for the Kids" he sat in the passenger's seat And let him pick the music And then turned down the speakers Because he couldn't scream over them Because he didn't like what he heard The "I love you" getting lost in the authority And the weakness giving him money because he felt bad While the radio softly sang "This One's for the Kids" The phone rang at 3:00 AM While the sirens outside Bled the color of desperation As the three musketeers Lay a hapless on the floor While the room kept spinning And the colors kept mixing with the smoke Their bottles lie empty as their eyes slowly closed As they whispered to each other "This One's for the Kids"		Returning Home He sat in the back seat And gazed out the window At autumn's beautiful destruction "I love you" poured out in an angry rage As "I need you" lashed back at it While "Corrupted Innocence" sat in silence And "I'm lost" proceeded to slit Their throats And trickle down their cheeks Like the rain That pitter-pattered against the window He breathed in deep And closed his eyes Trying to hold back all connotation As he sang along with the radio Wishing with all his might It would cover up the screams