Love is just around the corner.

To all the wanting, broken and unspoken I offer you this advice,
Know that there is always another chance and lightning can strike twice,
Your not the only ones to feel that fear that you won't be able to move on,
Your not set in stone and your not alone, you not the only one,
Set aside your hate and pride and take your time to think,
Logic is the strength on earth to bring you back from the brink,
I'm not seeing the world through heart shaped Ray Bans despite how it may seem,
I was blinded by that view as well and lost reality to dream.
Tested, tried and forced to hide I've seen your darkest days,
But we are all intricate and individual just sometimes in similar ways.
No matter what he or she says to you theres no such thing as the perfect match,
But true perfection needs imperfections for a trojan plan to hatch,
And you'll find comfort in the differences cause there an escape from what you are,
If you had to take solace in an identical you would not have too look very far,
You would could not be with another and that is to live and die alone,
Care for the ones that care for you, a house without a family cannot be called a home,
This not a case of philosophy or even psychology but perception,
These are not or shall be my own words in them I'm some what of an exception,

Now that part of my life has come to an end,
The stories we had and plans we made were all pretend,
Skipping on to the next of my cornerstone,
Wait for the red light to flash before I go on alone,
Cancel the plans that were spread to thin,
I don't just think what happened is wrong I think it's a sin,
But the movement has always been a little rough,
Oh how it seemed you were special it seemed you were enough,
Funny equation the subtraction of your attraction,
Funnier still is the time that got split into equal fractions,
Of the good, the bad, the lonely, the same,
Tried so hard to get people to call me my own name,
Metaphors for metaphor truths parallel to lies,
In Russian roulette is the winner the one that dies?
Can't is an imaginary word they said to me,
I replied to the same people can't you just leave me to be,
Is this all stuff that one shouldn't have thought,
Easy to say up here when your ever so tired and ever so short,
Suppose It's getting a little bit distorted,
Will this make out I was lying when i said it was all sorted,
Or even if this happens to go and get read,
by the people I'm aiming at with the thoughts in my head,
How many could be offended by the things I wrote,
I think the same old person could pull out a quote,
And I'll laugh to myself at what appears to be,
Me making some kind of snide reference concerning you and me,
But the truth of the matter is I'm sat on the fence,
Rambling and scathing and most of it doesn't make sense,
The key to all writing is that it doesn't always end,
Like your attraction you can add and subtract and the rules you can bend,
I could go back and edit this to put in some names,
I could have already taken them out as to not reload some of the blame,
It's ammunition to what sure to be an attack,
Of the almost white clouds that will roll and fall through grey into black.

More draw than man, more can't than can.

See i found myself this friend who makes the little things exist,
Taken up the anti so much more fun than when your pissed,
Frightened by people yes so comfortable in company,
Little brown around my eyes makes no difference to how i see,
Finding your little comments oh so relevant to the truth,
So important the news can't help but scrawl it on a telephone booth,
Seen so many lights that help me take on my fear of the dark,
You know who you are and what time to meet in the emptiest of car park,
Laugh a little louder I don't think the next town over heard you,
Laugh a little colder till your eyes go red and lips proceed to turn blue,
See your storm was so much fun to be in sailing it like the slaves,
but although much more sparse now i'm not so excited by your waves,
Countless times i waited for the Blinding to come ashore,
troubled by the empty coast and theres no knocking at my door,
Lost in the art of function I'm no longer the pinicle of synicle,
Lost in the art of escapism my bodies biology's now more chemical,
Losing it, losing, losing it and lost take me under your wing,
Supposed to be on the radio soon but not too sure if I can sing,
I know you have little too spare and this is quite some favour,
But please let me hear you one more time so come and be my saviour,
Reluctant to my truth and denial has started to take it's toll,
Throwing me around and back to myself flailing like an old rag doll,
Buttons for my eyes and go and knit me some new clothes,
Next time you see me will I be down or up only the heavens knows,
Haha you pushed it once and then pushed for a little bit less,
Scathing marks of times past are hidden under your fitted dress.
Scratch me up another memory on the inside of the club toilet wall,
Scathe at me from up on your throne so majestic and so tall,
This is not an ode or relevent state of what is fact,
This is a ballad to substance that has filled in the gaps of what I lacked,
A true mistress so of solitude shaping me into it's mould,
Phantom feelings of my baddest of days stroll in from the past so cold,
Am I falling backwards into the boy that I once was?
Or have I not lost control as much as they believe just because,
Comparisions between where your going to and to where i am,
Little bit of lion and ever so much more of a lonely lamb,
I won't tell the man in the mirror that I am his only fan,
I'm more draw than man you see more can't than am of a can.