What poor beings are those who know themselves beautiful,For others, they must choose between lies and honesty,To protect the ego of the ugly, or of the self-lashersAnd still, what thanks do they get?Fake smiles, hidden jealousy, peeking from nostrils, waiting to sneeze on them, at them.
Who knows how to feel anymore?Days flit by, we miss them go bye,Too busy, we worship lights and CV And awake. Awake? What do we do awake? Then, well, we lose sleep. But why? why? why?Is it the light of the sky?Nay.Is it the light in a lover's eye?Nay.Is it the light of a candle?Nay.The…
Not all the leaves have fallen yet.My mind still recalls that spring with her,Like a slice of moon among autumn clouds.When summer comes, will I forget, as one does the snow that melts? Never. For I hold fast to precious thought, and like spring she will never rot. Only return again.
Short poem on poetry
I will lift my head. Despite a childhood spent bowing under blows. Now, I will lift my head. Despite a childhood spent touched by dirty grownup hands. Now, I will lift my head. Now, Now, I must lift my head. Please, help me lift my head.
All this, everything that moves in this moving world,What is it in the face of YOU?Just erasable writing on a board,Just tears fallen in a pool.
If there was a second youI might go for a second viewI might travel wide, travel farAll to get back with youBut alas, we've metAnd there's just one of youAnd there's just one of meAnd there's just, just an old storyAnd we know, both of us, Where it ends, where it burstsYes we know, both…