why is mimi sad?

Why is mimi sad?
as she cries alone in bed
sobbing in the pillow,
wishing she were dead.
The lights flicker
from high above,
and she forgets what's wrong,
a halleluyah chorus rings
and she's lost in it's song.
Where did day's loving light go?
lost behind the clouds,
her conscious flickers past her eyes,
the soul of all her sounds
And she can feel your presence here,
how it hesitates,
from fear of "no"s
and "maybe so"s
or maybe even hate.
Still, you wonder to yourself
eyes dimmed against the light,
staring at her, jaw clenched tight
you're constrained with all your might.
Mimi isn't sad
she just knows the truth
the innocence of older days
the lies that they tell to youth
So why does mimi cry
as she lies alone in bed
sobbing in the pillow
wishing she were dead.
Cuz dead is better than this place
a place of foolish dreams
The place where mimi cries today,
the place where mimi screams

lost in the water's shade

i saw you looking at my face
your eyes were baring down on me
but when i looked
i couldn't see
anything to see in me

i'm stuck and helpless,
stranded here
the water is surrounding me
coming closer
coming in
the tide restricts me,
pressure's on me

the island burns
from
far away
the fish all shade their eyes
when you go
they'll watch you fall
and when you choke
they'll die

but my reflection,
so obscure
lost in the water's shade
baring down
and crawling on me
you're following my gaze

and as the island burns I sing
i'm here all by myself,
with me
i'm lonely,
contemplating
old times,
you and I
the fish are all,
i think,
still passing by

watching as we sink into it all.

the island burns, now
fish are gone
their last tail's flap did fade,

so where were you
when i collided
hit and run,
joined,
divided
it's a sad thing
you,
ignited.
it's a hard thing,
me,
inside it

my eyes still follow
my reflection
and i just
sink into it all
i'm gone
but really
more alive
now, when i sink with Grace
the salty water licks my face
finally to get a taste.
of all i've know
this wet embrace

so,
sing as i shall fall again
sing as if i'm gone
and if you do
i'll sing that tune
for you at your death, too
even from my grave
i'll sing
even if i'm gone
i promise you,
that when you, too
go to the island,
far away
i'll sing for you
because you mirror
me, down to my soul
me,
down to the mold
i'll sing so softly from the depths,
i'll sing from far away
your crisp green eyes
are still,
alas,
lost in water's shade

Ed, the hairless, schizophrenic frog

I was filling out my blog profile and I decided to answer a random question. It was this: "The children are waiting! Please tell them the story about the bald frog with the wig." I answered it, but then it said that it could only be 400 characters. So much for that. Anyways, here is my response, considerably longer than 400 characters. I apologize for this ahead of time, and please, children, don't take this to heart.

There once lived a bald frog named Ed on the shores of Lake Tipawaka. His appearance was made a mockery in the town off the shore, so Ed became depressed all the time, especially when the air outside began to become crisp and crystals of ice could be seen shimmering atop the lake. When winter came his head would freeze and he looked on in envy at all the other frogs, whose luscious hairs would flow from their soggy scalps.
One winter morning, an especially cold winter's morning, Ed woke up feeling lonely and ignored, cold and sad. In a moment of radical desperation, Ed flung open the door to his dugout and ran to the nearest Wig Emporium, throwing some change onto the counter and grabbing the nearest wig, which happened to be a smooth looking toupee, positioning it roughly on his head. The graceful hair now swept in front of his forehead and barely touched his neck, a stylish haircut for a stylish frog. Ed felt elated, like he could do anything in the world, now that he had hair. And so he walked proudly to work, head held high, chin up, and shoulders square. Ed, a longtime school teacher, could not wait to see what the children had to say. They would look up to their teacher now.
As Ed walked to school people were giving him curious stares. "Hmmmm.... I didn't realize I was THAT handsome!" Ed said, raising his head a little higher still. But when Ed arrived at school, all the children began laughing at Ed, and as they did so their heads bobbed back and forth wildly, large, evil smiles on their faces, hair streaming in cascades of browns and greens behind their youthful, pale, green necks. "What's going on?" he yelled, frightful of their response. The children continued to laugh, but wouldn't say anything, because they thought he knew. Well, it was obvious, wasn't it? His new toupee was bright pink. But, of course, Ed was colorblind, had always been color blind, so had hadn't realized that a ludicrously toned wig sat on his head. The childrens' laughs were getting louder and louder, echoing dangerously in his ears, falling around him, pushing inside of him. Ed began to back away from the gathering crowd, still confused and scared. Tears began to drip down his face.
"Why do you hate me?"
"Because you are a bad person," a voice in his head responded.
"A bad person?!" He asked to this voice. " A BAD PERSON?!?! ALL I EVER WANTED WAS FOR EVERYONE TO LIKE ME! All I ever wanted was to be loved. Why won't they love me?! WHY CAN'T YOU LOVE ME?!?!?!?!?" He screamed inside his head, face turning red from the rage and anguish, before the children. Now they only laughed harder because of this bright red, paired with the bright pink of the toupee. His sight was quite something to behold.
"Fine," He muttered, his voice becoming high and panicky under his breath. "You don't like me. My fate is doomed. Good bye."
"Yes, that's right. You are unwanted. Leave forever." And so, Ed ran away from the children toward the lake, the pattering steps of the students gaining on him, their laughs growing in momentum, their hair shaking more wildly, the late morning sun now shining off their locks in a light too bright to look at, a light that burned Ed's eyes as he frantically turned his head back for a moment. Ed now reached the lake and took one last, steady gulp before jumping into the lake before him. As he dove the pink toupee took flight as well, journeying off into the sky, carried away by the cold, windy day. It glinted for a moment, and then was gone, a mere memory of a teacher who had lost his hair and hope. Ed drowned that day, and still the children laughed. They laughed all the way to school and all the way home, their evil, toothy smiles flashing still.