Being a poet
is both a pain and a privilege.
All you do is
bleed your emotions
on a thousand pages
while people sing your praises
for ages.
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
i know that you "like" me
and maybe one day i can really like you too
but right now
even if i did
i wouldn't know
because i can't tell my emotions apart anymore
and you, as a person, deserve more than
my broken aching self
i'm sorry
May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 8:46 AM UTC
I do this
you do that
not illegal
we are both glad
you do that
I do this
we bother no one
nothing is amiss
you are rich
I am poor
I care not
I don't implore
you are poor
I am rich
come share my meal
your shirt I'll stitch
you and I
we both live
harm we cause not
there's nothing to forgive
I and you
it will come--that final day
there'll be no more you and I
as each quietly walks away
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 9:34 PM UTC
I'm doubtless, why you are stunning
For the reason that you are mirroring
I can't say, but almost you are striking
Your light is everywhere and glimmering
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 9:18 AM UTC