mmmkay

so here's the deal. i ended up having to come home, so while i'm having to stay here... i'm gonna right something.

a poem, one with meaning...


there once was a pretty stone... it did nothing, it's surface stayed cold...
and a young man existed who found it, he protected, watched out for and bound it.
not realizing just what he'd done, the man, so foolish, so young...
showcased his beauty to all, his stone, his gem, his fall.
he held it so tight, its dazzling light entranced the darkness of the night...
a man wicked and cold, with a tendency for evil so bold,
struck the young man, and limply his hand let go of oh its vigorous hold.
as the young man died, his eyes opened wide to a truth no one can be shown...

... the tighter you hold something, the less chance you'll keep it.
the more you love, the more you should release.

a sad after thought, that counted for not...
for the man, he still died alone.