Even If I Dont Type I Write Everyday, , , Never Forget The Style Of Rant
The shortest
there is something greater
there is no need to rhyme
it does not matter if it makes any sense
look at the window and find you have been
trapped forever and for long
see there is so much that cannot be seen
yet so much to see that has been left unseen
so much to be said
left unsaid
so much to be done
left undone
do not make me wait
i want to start now new beginnings are nice
but i want to see, to do, to say what some dare never to
i can feel the world melt away, and secrets meld into consciousness,
as thoughts of depression float away as someone i dont know emerges
who is it writing here
is it me my dear
i can't tell
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poem by David Knox
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Tears Of Blood: The Song (I'm not super depressed I wrote this to scare my friend but its deep)
Words are probably the strangest weapon
They kill more cruelly than a metallic gun
Sometimes we don't even know
Cause the wounds don't show
But the pain is there
Because it hurts when you don't care
The bleeding from your words is internal
The sting of their venom.... eternal
So this is the song I wrote for you
Can you hear me scream it?
This song's from my heart so I'll hit
Every note and pitch, and you can sing along too!
Because these are my tears of blood, can't you see?
Now this IS me
Because I'm broken
Because I'm bleeding out invisible blood
I'd rather it just end
No 'To be or not to be' it is, this is no mood
Swing, there is no question
NO redemption
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poem by David Knox
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For Being There
I'll write you this poem for being there
For being a person to message me, a person to care
Thanks for actually talking to me
It's always nice to see
That you've got a new message
That someone cares, someone looked in the cage
I guess thanks for letting me talk to you
Because it means a lot when someone will listen too
It's easy to feel alone in this world, but with friends like you I don't
With people like you around trials make me want to give up but i wont
There's no real lone wolves out there, you're part of my pack
Because I know you got my back
Thanks for that, these words won't do
But i guess that's all i can give to you
For now anyways
I hope our friendship always stays
I know that my gratefulness for you being there
Will because this isn't the relationship you just tear
So I guess I'll stop guessing
Thanks for being there, o yeah and thanks for loving God
poem by David Knox
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So What Makes Desire Of All Kinds?
So what makes one desire
What is that which propagates interest
What makes us love to rest?
Or love to rise, love to run and love to walk?
What makes us love to talk?
How do you decide what you like?
Everyone is different, but how do we arrive
At the conclusion of what we like, or from what do we derive
Enjoyment, what makes it fun, why ride a bike?
Why play a video game, why take a nature hike?
What makes us like heat or cold
Or love to buy that is sold?
How do we decide our own interests?
What is it that I do to digress?
From reality- and the pervasive question
Why? this is my source of depression
Loss of identity, what do i like and why?
What makes me love the sky
At sunset, what makes it beautiful?
The final question i must ask is just
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poem by David Knox
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Jesus Christ I'm Not Scared To Die...
Jesus Christ I'm not scared to die
but I'm a little scared what comes before
will I sin, will i commit that which you abhor?
can i stay strong and true, or defy
you, even you my God and my first love
will i succumb to desire and lust or set my heart on things above?
I do not fear death
I practically long for that day on which I draw the last breath
when I finally see you face to face
but can I be a good example for as long as I live?
or will I fall from grace
and yet what can I do you shall not forgive?
I pray to you my Lord that you give me strength
to continue to follow you, because what i fear most
is not the sting of death, but the length
I must strive to follow you without being morose
but sharing your love and joy and gospel
to save the world from hell
but i don't trust myself
Jesus Christ I'm not scared to die
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poem by David Knox
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The Pen Is Mighter Than the Sword
P- Primed for killing and chilling hearts
E- Enclosing
N- Nostalgic i what this dangerous pen can make you feel
The pen wastes no time
it needs no rhyme
it cuts directly to the heart
goes faster then a dart
fast bullet faster then sword
does more damage then a Mongolian horde
more deadly then black riders...it is ready
to kill, cold blooded sharp end held steady
perfect for self inflicted death
perfect for self pity
perfect for slaying in way not pretty
it attacks our minds... our hearts
as it has many parts
as the blood stained ink
pervades throughout the page, soon it makes you think
and in that pensive moment it kills you
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poem by David Knox
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The Chronicles of Nostalgia Part 1 Pick up Something... a memory
Amidst the pain i crawled and reached for
The pocket knife, suddenly a memory to abhor
Slipped through my hands into my mind
I swatted it away along with the flashback I tried to find
My flashbang, for i was sweating anticipating the next enemy
As soon as my fingers impacted the surface a memory did come
A memory of her, but
She is gone... I must forget... I feel confused... must
I just chased my memories around and
Around, but when i got to the end there was a sting
Of pain and angst and a pang of my nostalgia
With shackles of my shadow I once was, I cannot sing
The tune
Of life nor rejoice with love in June
No, school seems just a s hollow
This poem is a personal self pit wallow
This is the tune of nostalgia
Sometimes it has repercussion, others times
After just one rhyme
Life and pain drift away
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poem by David Knox
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A Declaration To You And To Hope!
one look over the edge
closer then i thought! i feel like im in a wedge
of darkness no turning back now
one question comes to mind then how!
can i avoid this edge so imminent! so close
so close to numbness comatose
and other things so close to me
what choice do i have besides jump willingly
look all around and find
someone who is kind
a friend to hold on to
someone like who.....
i must learn to trust... to listen
let their voice be my eyes as i lift them up
find the meaning and no longer be a pup
or scared let us stand here
to face this without a tear
there now turn around to the left
keep going i may be blind but not deaf!
im not beyond help never there is still light
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poem by David Knox
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O Star!
o star, how i love you
o star, won't you love me too
o star, you say who am i and i say am i but we both know who we are
o star, just as you know me i know you
o star, won't you shine on me once again
o star, if it weren't for you i would dead
o star, go back to your head
o star, deliver to her my secret message love
o star, fly true and fly fast as a dove
o star, be there with her and tell her i want to be there with her
o star, please deliver this message lest i choke on life
o star, i will now fill
o star, fill you with my secret love message so that i may not kill
o star, kill myself out of agony
o star, please let no one know this message but my sweet
o star, pass on the message to only her lest i die of heat
o star, be true
o star, on your path to deliver my love do not go askew
o star, find the one love find her o star find her and tell
o star, . tell my angel that i love her
poem by David Knox
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Striving For Suffering
It is not achievements or goals or trophies
Or accolades or awards or the end itself
For which we strive, we as humans think that
Is what we desire, but
What we really seek is adversity and suffering
We all desperately long for it
Yo may at first think it strange or untrue
But in fact it is what we all yearn for, even you
Simply getting a trophy or award means nothing
IT is the work, the blood, sweat, and tears
That we all really desire, it's that something
There's a voice inside everyone hears
Pushing them to do more, to achievement,
but that achievement is wrought in suffering
Empowered by the pain and time, as if heaven-sent
It is only in the trial that we can have triumph
Only in adversity we can make the jump
From mundane normalcy to achievement, thus it is
Truly the pain itself that separates normalcy
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poem by David Knox
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