Why Does My Heart Cry So?

Why does my heart cry so?

The earth has been crumbling

The nightingale has flown

Why does my heart cry so?

The fathers are dying

The sons gave the blow

Why does my heart cry so?

We are not listening

Our ears have been cloaked

Why does my heart cry so?

The words we are speaking

The hurt our hearts more

Why does my heart cry so?

Our faith has been broken

His trust we’ve ignored

Why does my heart cry so?

We don’t feel our shame

Our guilt we don’t know

Why does my heart cry so?

Hell’s flames have been lit

No care we have, though

Why does my heart cry so?

Such monsters we are

Forsaking God’s love

Why does my heart cry so?

Lest we turn our ways,

To Hell we shall go

My heart, don’t cry so

His words, they will soothe you

Peaceful river’s flow

On The River Bank, I Sat And Wept

On the river bank, I sat and wept

Undeterred by the silent stares

On the river bank, I sat and wept

Drowning my sorrows, my pains, my cares

On the river bank, I sat and wept

And watched the sunset rise

On the river bank, I sat and wept

The winds howled beneath the night sky

On the river bank, I sat and wept

My heart yearned for my lost love

On the river bank, I sat and wept

Love’s essence still fills my blood

On the river bank, I sat and wept

Watching my reflection below

On the river bank, I sat and wept

Through seasons of rain and fire and snow

On the river bank, I sat and wept

And still the burden would not lift

On the river bank, I sat and wept

I sat there and waited for death’s cold lips

On the river bank, I sat and wept

And wrote my story with tears (salt?), not pen

On the river bank, I sat and wept

I yearn for the day I meet my lost love again

Day 2 - A Hobby

Well I have many activities that I would consider my hobbies but nothing I would take seriously. Then there are things that I would like to consider my hobbies but I do not have either the time or the money to do them. I love the arts and particularly lean towards auditory art – music. Ever since I can remember, I’ve only been able to connect to people through my music – whether it be making friends at a new school or making an awkward family dinner not-so-awkward. I do not just like listening to music though. I’ve dabbled in pretty much every aspect of it – writing it, critiquing it, listening to it, composing it, just not recording/selling it. I began by writing poetry in my tween years, often using “cataclysmic events” or “mind-blowing” discoveries at that time. Looking back at my “poetry”, I am amused by my quite-apparent immaturity. Yet at the same time, I am aware of my own growth as a person. That is what I love most about the arts – you begin to discover yourself the longer you are immersed in it. I would like to try my hand at photography – it’s quite an interesting science. I tried drawing and painting but I was never satisfied with my results, not that I am always happy with my poems or lyrics now. Overall, the satisfaction I gain from writing lyrics are generally greater than my poor attempt at abstract art or portraits. So I guess those are my current hobbies but I hope to expand beyond the realm of art/music.

Day 3 - A Thing That's On Your Mind

I’ve recently been thinking about the reason for my existence. Sometimes, I feel as though my life here has no purpose whatsoever and I am wasting my time. I often wonder what I will do with my life and if I’m on the right path career-wise. I really love music and want to go into the music business but I’m afraid I won’t be successful since I haven’t researched that deeply into it. I don’t know what I’d be getting myself into. I love writing lyrics and feel like that’s the best way I relate to people because I can pour out my feelings without being judged. I don’t really know how to talk to people so I put up a front and act like I don’t give two craps about what others think of me which is THE farthest thing from the truth. Honestly, I find that when I’m true to myself, I’m a very insecure person. I think it stems from immigrating to America at a young age with no idea of how people are like. Because of this, I found that I didn’t know how to approach people and couldn’t relate. At times, I found myself wishing that I had been born white so it would be easier for me to make friends and relate to others. I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin and then when I found that I didn’t look like others – I was chubby and had acne and wasn’t attractive. That led to self-esteem issues that I’m dealing with to this day. I still look in the mirror and am unhappy with the person looking back. This leads to me being discouraged with everything I do. I feel as though I’m not good enough. The worst part is that I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. I am painfully reserved and would rather sit in a room by myself rather than interact with people. I tend to think that people will let me down because of my experiences in the past with “friends”. I guess I have to suck it up and move on but it’s easier said than done. That’s why I relate to music as well as books – they won’t let you down. This is why I write a lot – it’s therapeutic and helps me escape and be who I want to be. Because of my insecurities, I tend to act rude and come off as “ghetto”. I feel that acting like this will prevent people from talking to me and just leaving me alone so I don’t get hurt again. But it ends up giving me a bad rep. so either way I lose. And this way, I tend to hurt the people I love because they have to suffer for my actions. But time to stop the wallowing-in-my-self-pity and move on. I haven’t written all I wanted to but I get depressed when talking about this so I’ll leave it for another day. And excuse the horrible grammar. I’ll do better next time. Promise.