A/N: Ive been feeling overwhelmed by it all lately so I rote dis little poem. I think its called a sonnet like shakspear rote. hav u heard of him I love his storie' adventures in camelot'.

when it turns to dust the facade

is lifted from the torments of my


everything 2 ashes

joy is fleeting and meaningless

like a crushed butterfly e

the carnage hidden from the insesitive world

under this grass

that obscurs the depserate cries of my soul

mi life is a bowl of blackened clam chowder

all the little pieces floating in a broth

of agony and despair

seasoned with pain and sorrow

depletid by the spoon of cruel life