collect all my thoughts
spring cleaning has begun
throw out the old ghosts
scrutiny the new hosts
traitors aren't welcomed here
these eyes have banned tears
the messages have been erased
no longer do i sit old names
no longer do i labor their load
i bury them forever 6ft below
© 1997 thomas bates
what can we be proud of?
how can we live on?
tears of frustration and regret
how can we ever forget?
years of pain
what did we gain?
nothing except lessons of how to avoid certain issues
yet barricades do eventually fall and you're faced with "you"
you run and don't stand
many voices behind your back
ramble, ramble, ramble, ramble... on
keep putting the blame on someone
tear down someone to justify the means
yet you're the instigator to this attack on self-esteem
fear is a mind killer
become a fallen broken pillar
to accomplish something, you might never know
till someone hits you upside the face and shows
a diary of painful experiences
is a glimpse of life's lessons
to teach discipline and self-will
then fear can be killed
© 1997 thomas bates
the mass floods the area
arms are flailing through this two step
bandana faces bring protection and obscurity
each their own island and ocean
each their own style and language
chaos and passion is found in this strange union
an artform of its own is in flux with evolution
spinning and weaving a wonderful tapestry in the grass
dust rises and falls with each birth pain
the celebration of expression and individualism
© 2003, 2005 thomas bates
you have wakened the god of blood
his wrath will soon run the neighborhood
to eradicate impurity with his horde
every head not bowing will feel his sword
somewhere along the way though our naive ways
we have awakened this blood god and now have to pay
but his time is short as like many gods before him
he shall fall into the earth's firey core within
so he will try to take as many souls with him as he can
to burn for eternity with him in his city of the damned
© 2005 thomas bates
angels and demons always cross my path
my paranoia is still rampid in my head
some are really beautiful, but which i do not know
only when you take the time, you shall see their soul
just a glance across the room into their eyes
a lingering question in your head tries to hide
would it be worth the anxiety to speak,
or should you take guard behind the keep?
it is a chance that can sometimes reap benefits
or it is a perfect disaster waiting to happen
© 2005 thomas bates
