Poetry
is an
enigmatic,
waste of space.
Or
perhaps an
absolute,
epitomized
truth.
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
all the time in the world for you
(my dear)
waiting (like breathing)
must
must
happen.
all the time
for you.
(my dear)
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
And this is the sky
what we see, what we aim for.
What limits us?
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 6:23 PM UTC
Funny, the truths we let ourselves accept
The arms we hold for
strength, hope, camaraderie
turn us into *****
Never seen someone
run so fast, walking.
We all find comfort somewhere,
running must be both of ours
Mistakes I made,
I don’t regret.
If my time with you had to be a mistake,
I’ll take what I can get.
Firm belief in fate,
Things do happen for a reason.
I still hear you, loud and clear,
Please don’t stop screaming.
The only thing I have is Faith,
never sure why, but it lingers.
It will all be ok, work out,
funny, the truths we let ourselves accept .
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 12:47 AM UTC