"Happiness comes from within"

is a lie, and

"Money will make me happy"

So in 30 years I will tell my children

they are not the most important thing in my life.

My employer will know that

I have my priorities straight because 

work

is more important than

family

I tell you this,

Once upon a time

Families stayed together

but this will not be true in my era

this is a quick fix society

Experts tell me

30 years from now I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce

I do not concede that

I will live in a country of my own making

In the future

Environmental destruction will be the norm

No longer can it be said that

My peers and I care about this earth

It will be evident that

My generation is apathetic and lethargic

It is foolish to presume that

There is hope. 

Now, read the whole thing from the last line to the first line :)

Lua

I know that it is freezing,

But I think we have to walk.

I keep waving at the taxis,

They keep turning their lights off.

But Julie knows a party at some actors West side loft.

Supplies are endless in the evening by the morning they'll be gone.

When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend. 

I'll get the coffee and the paper,

Have my own conversations

With the sidewalk and the pigeons and my own reflection,

The mask I polish in the evening by the morning looks like shit. 

And I know you have a heavy heart,

I can feel it when we kiss. 

So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it.

But me, I'm not a gamble,

You can count on me to split.

The love I sell you in the evening by the morning won't exist. 

You're looking skinny like a model with your eyes all painted black.

Just keep going to the bathroom,

Always say you'll be right back.

Well, it takes one to know one, kid, I think you've got it bad,

But what's so easy in the evening by the morning's such a drag.

I got a flask inside my pocket,

We can share it on the train.

And if you promise to stay conscious I will try and do the same.

We might die from medication, but we sure killed all the pain.

But what was normal in the evening by the morning looks insane. 

And I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this.

The reasons all have run away,

But the feeling never did.

It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live,

'Cause what's so simple in the moonlight by the morning never is.

SARAH

"One upon a time, there was a girl named Sarah. She had beautiful blue eyes that matched her sandy brown hair, and expensive Marc Jacobs bag. Her svelte figure turned heads, while beautifully new shoes hung off her feet. With a cigarette pressed between her lips, she dragged and loved the taste. 

All of a sudden, a horribly strange looking man ran past her, while shouts followed behind him. A snatch thief! Thinking fast, Sarah grabbed the coffee cup sitting at her table, drew her arm back, then- WOOOSH! It flew into his head, stopping him cold. 

The people chasing the man cheered, "Oh, Thank Goodness for the Beauty!"

But, their momentum wouldn't let their legs stop running! 

Oh no!

Unfortunately, they ran right over her. 

The men despaired, while the ladies- well, sadly they didn't quite mind.

*sigh* 

Another beauty gone."

THE END

Wooden Tears

When they pulled her out, it's true that she started to wail and scream for him. The men attempted to keep her in their powdery arms, but she managed to break away. Desperate humans often seem able to do this. 

She did not know where she was running, for the street no longer existed. Everything was new and apocalyptic. Why was the sky red? How could it be snowing? And why did the snowflakes burn her arms?

She slowed to a staggering walk and concentrated up ahead. 

She wandered a short while longer until the man who found her took her arm and kept talking. "You're just in shock, my girl. It's just shock, you're going to be fine"

"What's happened?" she asked. 

The man had disappointed eyes. What had he seen these past few years? "You got bombed, my girl. I'm sorry, darling"

The girls mouth wandered on, even if her body was now still. She had forgotten her previous wails for him. That was years ago - a bombing will do that. She said, "We have to get my papa, my mama..."

Her body buckled at that moment and the man caught her and sat her down. "We'll move her in a minute" he told his sergeant.

Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones. 

Papa was an accordion!

But his bellows were all empty.

Nothing went in and nothing came out. 

She began to rock back and forth. A shrill, quiet, smearing note was caught somewhere in her mouth until she was finally able to turn.

To Papa.

At that point, I couldn't help it. I walked around, to see her better, and from the moment I witnessed her face again, I could tell that this was who she loved the most. Her expression stroked the man on his face. It followed one on the lines down his cheek. 

Papa-the accordionist. 

One could not exist without the other. 

She turned around and spoke to the man. 

"Please", she said, "My Papa's accordion. Could you get it for me?"

After a  few minutes of confusion, an older member brought the eaten case and she opened it. She removed the injured instrument and laid it next to Papa's body.

"Here, Papa"

And I can promise you one thing, because it was a thing I saw many years later, that as she kneeled next to him, she watched him stand and play the accordion. He stood and strapped it on in the Alps of broken houses. There were silver eyes. There was a cigarette slouched on his lips. He even made a mistake and laughed in lovely hindsight.  The bellows breathed and the tall man played for her one last time as the sky was slowly taken from the stove. 

Keep playing, Papa.

Papa stopped. 

He dropped the accordion and his silver eyes continued to rust. There was only a body now, on the ground, and she lifted him up and hugged him. She wept over his shoulder.

"Goodbye, Papa"

Her arms held him. She kissed his shoulder - she couldn't bear to look at his face anymore - and she placed him down again.

And she wept until she was gently taken away. 

Angelmine

He searched for those wings that he knew

That his angel should have at her back.

And, although he can't find them,

He really doesn't mind

Because he knows they'll grow back.

And as he reached for that halo that he knows

That she had when she first caught his eye,

Although his hand came back empty,

He's really not worried

'Cause he knows it still shines.

I can't promise that I'll grow those wings

Or keep this tarnished halo shined,

But I'll never betray your trust.

I search all the time on the ground

For our shadows cast side by side,

Just to remind me that I haven't gone crazy,

That you exist and are mine. 

And I know that your skin is as warm and as real

As that smile in your eyes

But I have to keep touching and smelling

And tasting, for fear it's all lies. 

I can't promise that I'll grow those wings,

Or keep this tarnished halo shined,

But I'll never betray your trust.

Last night I awoke from the deepest of sleeps,

With your voice in my head.

And I could tell by your breathing

That you were still sleeping

I repeated those words that you had said;

I can't promise that I'll grow those wings,

Or keep this tarnished halo shined

But I'll never betray your trust,

Angelmine.