Trees.

Does anyone else fill like their so far behind in school,
And that its impossible to catch up,
Every thing that I've ever done I felt like a fool.
I fill so worthless and stressed,
You tell me I have it good,
But how can I fill blessed,
When Ever things such a mess.

Maybe It's just me...
Your not the problem,
I just want to be free,
I'm hanging from a limb,
A horrible evil tree that's dying,
I look at others trees,
There big and green and full of life.
But on the inside termites are causing horrible strife.

Why do we hide everything away,
Everyone has secrets,
Everyone has stuff they don't say,
Life is just a game were everyone has to play,

Everyone is envelouped in a life of crime,
Everyone will know your problems,
its just a matter of time.

Does it make you fill good to know this,
Everyone is hurting,
It's a terribly long list,
Or are you like me...
Every hurt you hear,
tares you up like a stormy sea.

Does it make you fill fine,
that their are people with nothing to their name,
that don't even have a dime...
And the ones with all the fame,
are hurting just the same.
To me it hurts so bad,
to know people are so sad.

All the cuts all the bruises,
all the choices we make,
all the lifes we fake,
Put on a smile,
go on with your life,
put up with all the bile.
just another emotion to file....
And hide away.

Every where I look theirs torture.
Trees falling and dying.
Life is like a big apple orcherd.
Trees need other trees to stand strait and tall,
Other wise they'll have nothing else to do but fall.
They need to see the sun...
the light at the end of the tunel

Are we just bones and blood rapped up all in a bundle.

Or are we something else?


I think we're something more,
how else would we fill like our life has been torn.
Theres to much pain
for life to be JUST a game.
How are emotions possible at all
Why does music make us ball.
It's just noise,
But yet its something else, something Better,
How are we capible of letters,
Letters then form words, and words form meaning,
We do we like big pearls gleaming.
Why do we like anything,
Yes their is something more.
Something out their,
And I think he's very fair.

I earned my hurt...I'm a horrible person...I just wish others didn't hurt...but then

agian

maybe they earned their hurt too.