Here's something my dad did way back in '99. It stuck with me for years, in bits and pieces I'd recall now and then. I thought it was lost for good, but I just found it again in some paperwork, so I cleaned it up a little and here it is.

In our world of confusions, unclear rights and wrongs
- where situational ethics rule as queens, and kings replaced for pawns -
a lie becomes an everpresent help when troubles on horizon dawn.

Sight stops just short of where words end, though neither can be taken back.
The one goes on to worlds unknown, oft returning in sudden attack.

The other remains -
slave to itself, bound by fear of the truth. To see
incoming missiles blinding the eyes
- pawns now demons, glaring ravenously.

Now injured kings wounded in battle
- groping in pain and despair -
watch from secret castle rooms as pawns ransack the lair.

Then evil eyes turn to the flag that yet stands, hiding the king.
They cut down the pole, and still it flies
but they are blind and can't see the thing.

So in their blindness, they erect a flag
all filthy, ragged and worn.
Black as the night in which they live
The child Situational Ethics is born!

This is a poem Loki wrote not long ago. It's just so cool that I hadda put it on here. It's also reminiscent of many a bishounen's last thoughts as they died heroic deaths. Poignant, courageous, and a little bit sad. Loki-sama, I salute you.

Tattered and torn here I shall fight
For death shall soon scorn all in my sight
I shall fight for my honor with all of my might
For hope that after my death my soul shall take flight.

This was done by my other brother, Kilo, when he was 11. Deep for his age, ne?

Wind roams the Earth like a tormenter of seas
It takes no prisoners, we all go as we please
There are no more painful sounds than the howling wind
on a cold boat in a winter storm that sweeps coasts
with storms of rage and penalty against the sandy shores
of a lost beach
People want rain and wind brings drought and dust to the windsank beach
Wind controls everything we do, want and feel
We all love something we can't feel
Something that feels real to an odd soul like myself
as we twist and turn through life

Young love gone awry.

Alone as blissful whisperings pass,
I sit alight by swaying grass,
The times gone past which slowly die,
Wind through my hair I start to cry,
Lives torn away by anger and hate,
Come back around in a revengeful state,
The night so still and weeps almost,
Like the howling of a mourning ghost,
Now times of dread and fear and pain,
I come to pass this place again,
And sit here feeling calm in the bliss,
As I think to my past first love, I miss.

A cold lonely wistful breeze vanishes into the moors,
The silenced chill enough to rot a heart,
The mist...so thick so cold like something you've never seen,
The aching mourns of lost travellers,
A soft creeping light along a stony path dimly lighting a trail,
Walking a lone girl,
Lost to the world,
Stepping over the shards of her life,
Tears rolling down her cheeks,
Ice before they hit the ground,
Head bows down without a sound,
Hung in shame to the sorrow that surrounds her,
The happy place diminished to this...
A low shameful path of nothingness
Walking step by step
Now alone to the mist and shadows creeping about
All these feelings bottled into a tight space
This tight space known as her heart.