Poems.

Composition.
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compose and compose
its not all that bad i suppose.
i should be used to it by now.
this daily routine has shown us how.
a human being can be broken about
broken down, reduced of there energy...none..to scream
and shout.
so write and write.
as the days pass on ill stop putting up a fight.
these actions have made my feelings immune
just keep lashing with you're words my protest will all
but stop soon..
i am not of poets nor of authors
im just a lad of this young ripe age following the
dream of our founding fathers.
abuse and abuse.
you're deing vains are all but amused.
it will all be as a drug, used.. and used.
some day the feeling shall be gone.
as it seems. obviously.. this scenary is clearly drawn.
the future has been planned.
there is no master plan.
just us beings and our emotions.
and the given right on how we choose to show them.
so compose and compose.
when will this end... know one knows.... --------------------------
Creation.

will i walk among men, or shall i play amung boys.
will i rise to dominance, or play with my toys.
will i give into everything, or shall i rebuic it.
will i take every chance i recive, or hole back true
feelings.. then come later.. greive.
this world is cruel, and designed to decieve.
is it planned, drawn, or as an empty canvas.. to an
artist,
not knowing what will be drawn upon the surface.
you have a choice, along with that a voice.
be free my sons be free, rise up.. from your knees.
the world has alot to offer, it just lacks admiration.
but it surpluses in warfare and deprivation.