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Poetry, resides here.

It's anger.
So powerful.
It's rage.
So wonderful.

It wants to take me,
To make me it's own.
I'm easy prey
For I am alone.

I feel it creeping,
Overtaking my soul,
Filling me with darkness,
Making me cold.

I'm weak, unprepared.
I have to give in
To this dark, sinister,
Most evil sin.

"Anger"

by Preston Keith, inspired by Jon and his wise counsel.

It's becoming more evident
Much more obvious to me
I thought much more of you
Than you ever thought of me.

Was this my biggest mistake
Letting myself think you cared
Was I just your marionette
With heartstrings open and bared.

With me left here still thinking
What was false, what was true
So puzzling and so complex
I'm left to await another clue.

You played me
Just because you were bored
made me believe you still cared.

"No longer"

By Preston Keith, inspired by Heather, and her sick heart.

Once we were unknown to one another, 
You and your friends didn't care, 
That I was neither sister nor brother, 
Nor did you mind nor did ware, 
For who I was did not concern, 
Your person nor your friends, 
Until I was verbally burned, 
Attacked simply because of the trends, 
Abused and beat upon, 
For no reason other then who I am, 
Now those good times seem agone, 
Replaced by this time born by them, 
Were your animosity appears from nowhere, 
And your gestures seem as empty as space, 
My virtues I still attempt to adhere, 
And hope to return to that long past place, 
Were hatred was gone and love ran free, 
Not these lies and intrigue we call true, 
But a place were friends like we, 
Had no such problems were aloud to brew, 
Yet here I sit wondering and hoping, 
Dreaming that those days gone by, 
May one day be returned to my groping, 
And some day soon to try, 
To mend this friendship that's on the fray, 
Spreading love and happiness, 
time by time day by day, 
returning this to friendliness.

"Why? Why? Why?"

By Katrina