Worth

how can we measure the worth of something? How much it cost is one way. How much work was put into it was another way. But how do you measure the worth of a person? Answer that and then i ask how much then am i worth? To you, the world, or something more. How can you have the right to look me in the eyes after twelve years, twelve months, twelve days, twelve hours, and say that i am not worth as much as somebody else? You see that alot these days. Everything down to the last hair on a persons head being counted for worth. And even when they try to improve the worth of the things around them, they STILL are thought to be "not worth my time". If you don't believe me, go the bar, hang out at the schools, talk to anybody. Everything is about worth or lack there of. It's sick. It's also sick how the worst of those around you are worth way more than you will ever be, they are all you ever want to be just because they are not judged on whatever action they do, anyway they dress or whatever they do with their lives. It's sick you look at everything but WHO they are. For that is where the greatest of faults are, but it is also the most ignored, well... when you they are worth something. I hope when you look into my eyes, i hope you see worth, it's all i can wish for, because i wasn't worth the prayers i threw up. So maybe, just maybe i will be worth your gaze, because in the end, thats what i really am praying for. Hell...it's all i can. Nothing else is worth it.....

Whisper in the storm

Author unknown

I have walked among men and angels for three thousand years. Time has no end... no beginning... no purpose.I wander the earth, seeking forgiveness for my horrible crimes against God and man.I live to see death, destruction, over the light, but the light cannot be extinguished.I live in a prison of my own demise.I am lost in time...

Can you see me?

Can you see me? This person in front of you who cares about you? No, of course not, silly me, what was I thinking? Such is life I guess, here one min. and gone the next. Life is just a poor player, who struts himself upon the stage and then is heard again no more. So true. I mean something one second, yet non the next. Those close, are blind, and those who I would love, blinder still. I see you there, loving another and yet i am compelled to be happy that you have found someone, yet i feel the burning that sets in whenever i remember that it is not that you cannot really see me, it's that you really don't want to...but don't worry (I know you won't but still i should say it), few have seen me before, in the past and fewer still now, why should i be so blind as to think that anything else is going to change in the futur. And that is something you know deep in your heart to be true.