The Child Inside Will Never Die.

It occurred to us at dusk on the playgrounds of our past.

Standing atop frail wooden castles, 
Challenging the day for one more play,

Challenging the sun for one more hour of fun. 

The child inside will never die.

Child sentries at their posts. The ground is lava 
And we’re afraid to touch our feet to the ground.

We’re climbing like animals in the jungle gym.

We’re haunted by the knowledge that our primal joy 
Will end with the knell of the recess bell. 

We’ll stay till the giants dare to drag us away.

The child inside will never die.

Thorn of the Rose

I made myself

Fall in love with you.

Without ever seeing 

If the feeling was true.

I made some change

With this broken heart buck,

I’ve gone and pressed

Too hard on my luck. 

I see new colors

With these rosy glass eyes.

Making new shades of

Those passions I despise.

She’s the thorn of the rose

In my clenched fist,

Its pain and beauty close

My eyes and I missed.