The good old days,
Where there was no school,
No work,
No worry.

The days where all we did,
Was play,
Have fun,
And live in the moment.

But now,
Now life feels cramped,
Full.

Now we're living in the future,
In the past,
Never in the present,
Never enjoying the moment.

Now we don't have enough time,
Never enough,
No time for anyone,
Or anything.

Just work,
Work,
Work,
And more work.

I want to go back,
To the good old days,
Where there wasn't,
A care in the world.

Streamers raining down as snowflakes in deep winter.
Cake, all over my face like armour.
But I sit and ask myself, what is the cause of this ceremony?
One day, every year, no problems, no frief, or melancholy.

But the only thing that seems to change is the number.
Life goes by so quick, who'd have thought?

Every year I say the same; seems like only yesterday.

On this special occasion, that is my birthday.

On my little key set,
I have a couple things,
I have an Eiffel Tower,
And an angel with wings.

I have a little flashlight,
And a ‘Bazinga’ too,
I have a couple photos,
Which aren’t at all new.

But on my little key set,
I only have 3 keys,
For the house and mail box,
To check when I’m free.

You may start to wonder,
Why are keys so rare,
That’s because these keyrings,
Make me smile and stare.

I got the Eiffel Tower,
In Paris, you see,
And the angel from my mother,
Who said she thought of me.

A flashlight for the night,
As I’m afraid of the dark,
And ‘Bazinga’ from my parents,
I promise it’s not that stark.

Now for the two photos,
They’re from a birthday event,
One is with my mother,
Who didn’t know how much it meant.

The other is with my cousins,
Four to be exact,
They’re all such good people,
And that statement is a fact.

All these things mean something,
They keep me at great ease,
And that is why my key set,
Has so little keys.

A cemetery is the only place
where stone and flora intertwine.
Opposites of reality
coming together as one.
Flora, full of life and colour, youth.
Stone, drained of all we stand to recognise.
Life and death.

A cemetery is the only place
where the living greet the dead.
Opposites of reality
brought together by the End.
The living bear flowers of light and hope.
The dead carry a stone above their heads,
crushing them beneath their weights.
Life and death.

Depression is a beast,
Of utter madness,
A being filled with stress,
And overwhelming sadness.

Inflicting its own pain,
On unsuspecting townsmen,
Never taking a break,
Striking again and again.

A mighty sword won't cut it down,
Neither will an arrow,
A dove isn't able to show it love,
And it can't learn freedom from a sparrow.

This treacherous monster,
How grand, how tall, 
Has no way of being taken down,
No way it will somehow fall.

This monster is strong and you are weak,
Or that's what it wants you to think,
But with time and spirit alone,
You can fight it with a blink.

It will cease, and it will fall,
It will leave you to not defend,
It will find another victim,
And you have made the monster your friend.

I am always told
Patience is but a virtue
I do not possess.

"I want to be perfect,"
I once had said,
But, I didn't know that,
These words are bled.

I now know,
I was a young fool,
Perfection is a dream,
To us, 'tis cruel.

I wanted to be a princess,
Down when I was five,
"Princesses are perfect,"
And that was my strive.

I now know,
What I want to do,
I want to write,
My feelings for you.

I'm not perfect,
No one will be,
But inner perfection,
Is all I see.

Perfection is a dream,
And that is my truth,
I now know it is,
Not so much my youth.

Picturesque life
I can see it unfold
It will no longer be
A story untold

Everyday is precious
With you by my side
You're my light in the dark
When our worlds collide

Now, it won't be easy
But I won't sit and ramble
Because this life of ours
Is just one big gamble

I know we'll make it through
Despite all the trials
Because for you I would walk
Five hundred miles

Song lyrics are great and all
But what I say is true
I can't wait for our story
To begin, just me and you

“I only wish I had your talent.”

No.

Being a poet is not as much of a gift as you would like to believe.

You are forced by your own internal writer
to measure your thoughts perfectly
and pile them pristinely
onto a piece of piercing paper
that wishes
nothing more
than your emotional demise.

Mapping out every thought and emotion
is not a gift,
but a burden.

The more language you know,
the less words you seem to find
to describe the ever growing complexity
of the depths of your mind.

Being a poet is not a gift at the best of times.

In the bushes,
A man sits still,
A hole in his heart,
He yearns to fill.

By causing this pain,
On unsuspecting deer,
Causing their strife,
Sharing his fear.

How he does this,
Is poetic, at least,
Vicious and blood-thirsty,
This man's feast.

His heart is punctured,
So he punctures them,
With a bullet,
Sharp as a gem.

So he sits in bushes,
Before he announces,
His presence among them,
Then . . . he pounces.

Compensation,
A man's frustration,
A horrid creation,
Feels like truncation.

War is a play,
A theatrical piece,
Readying the cast,
Before decease.

Props in hand,
Mics linked up,
To calm yourself,
Drink from death's cup.

A play for onlookers,
To watch and stare,
Ready before,
The speakers blare.

Before the crowds,
We are attacked,
A play repeated,
To reenact.

"Living the same year,
Seventy-five times,
And calling it life,
Is the greatest of crimes."

A paraphrased saying,
Of Robin S. Sharma,
Reliving a bad day,
And calling it karma.

Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
Stuck on one word,
Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
It begins to seem blurred.

Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
No longer sounding of dialect,
Repeat has become faint,
The word has lost its effect.

It seems to be the meaning,
That the word has lost,
No longer sounding real,
This seems to be the cost.

The cost of repeating,
The same over and over,
Yearning for some luck,
A lucky four-leaf clover.

Nothing seems to help,
Stuck in this trance,
No escape is found,
That was my last chance.

The river rises,
Raising its sizes,
Swallowing us whole,
The land is its coal.

Its fuel is our fear,
When the river comes near,
We get into gear,
And we won't stay here.

We fear the river,
As it sends a shiver,
Down our spines,
As we get into lines.

We're ready to march,
Hoping it'll parch,
Readying the team,
To go upstream.

We walk with our fright,
In the dead of night
We reach the site,
And extinguish the light.

And with all our might,
We give it a smite,
And know that with pride,
Tonight, we stride.

We fight the river,
Ignoring the shiver,
Hope is a sliver,
But we won't be chopped liver.

You have, no doubt,
Heard of the road less traveled,
It would probably be easier,
To call it the road untraveled.

Not many choose to take that path,
And that is, honestly, fair,
It may lead to something great,
But not many seem to care.

Not many walk it’s cobbles,
Hence the metaphorical name,
But the outcome of this path,
Will never be the same.

I can’t tell you what to do,
Or where to go from here,
You need to choose your path,
You need to face your fear.

Such a common metaphor
“Roller coaster of emotion”
One moment without a care
The next in deep commotion.

But sometimes there’s no other way
To describe this pressing fear
A constant dread of the imminent
The unforgiving and austere.

The first drop of the stomach
A quick fall of the cart
The moment of pure horror
You’ve feared from the start

There’s no reason for a mood swing
No rationale behind
But it happens with full force
The unforgiving and unkind.

“Roller coaster of emotion”
Not much else I can say
My mind is a predator
And my body is it’s prey

No other way to describe
This endless looming feel
But once the roller coaster starts
My emotions become surreal.

Roses are red,
Violent, sharp,
With love and life,
Music of a harp.

Roses have thorns,
Making hearts bleed,
Stealing their dreams,
Of ever being freed.

Roses have petals,
Soft as a smile,
Falling down slowly,
As they gather in a pile.

Roses help people,
Trying to win hearts,
But why do we use them,
We'll just get torn apart.

Roses are danger,
But are used to propose,
So many faces,
Of a single rose.

Wind through my hair,
Like water through a drain,
Running through life,
Running through the pain.

Kept under surveillance,
Under lock and key,
Something for safekeeping,
Special, just for me.

I keep it under wraps,
Secret, hidden away,
Saved for someone special,
For a very special day.

No one can see,
Before I deem them fit,
For the thing I hold dear,
So, deal with it.

About this thing,
I care too much,
To let some commoner,
Feel its touch.

Cutting its victims,
With a sharp blade,
A predator, a king,
Of this masquerade.

This almighty authority,
Ruling over all,
And his almighty phrase,
You all shall fall.

He seems so innocent,
So pure at heart,
But then he'll get close,
And tear that paper apart.

Granny says the sky doesn’t end
We just decide when to stop searching
No idea what she means.

I see the stars,
Shimmer and shine,
Glinting on the dark night sky,
As if they are all mine.

I make a wish,
Begging it to come true,
And that wish is...
Well, I can't tell you.

It's a secret,
Like most of my life,
A secret that can't be stolen,
With a sharpened knife.

But I know as a fact,
That the wish won't come true,
I secretly know that,
Another secret, with nothing to do.

Waving at me,
Far, far away,
My shadow stares,
It strikes midday.

Feline reflexes,
It moves with me,
Without a single,
Discrepancy.

My shadow nears,
Showing her claws,
And showing me,
All of my flaws.

This is simple,
I promise you,
That to my word,
I will be true.

It's easy,
Simple as pi,
3.1415,
Step up, don't be shy.

Don't back down now,
You're in too deep,
Keep pushing through,
And you'll play to keep.

This is simple,
I promise you,
So believe in yourself,
You'll have a breakthrough!

A word can have,
Such interpretation,
And the word sinking,
Exceeds expectation.

It can be joyful,
Sinking into love,
Or sinking into sadness,
And sinking from above.

Sinking can be a ship,
With memories aboard,
But when this ship sinks,
They're forgotten and ignored.

Sinking can be anger,
Or sinking with fear,
Hiding away,
From those we hold dear.

Sinking, what a word,
But I can't help and think,
What if I'm waiting,
And am destined to sink?

People ask me why I smile
Why I stick right through it all
Why I walk another mile
Instead of slowing to a crawl

I look up to them and smile
A soft billow in the day
I whisper after a small while
“Because I don’t have much to say.”

They look down and smile too
And I know they understand
They know what I always knew
Why I smile secondhand.

So we go our separate ways
I wander and wait, versatile
For another soul to cross my days
To ask me why I smile.

"If it's for a day,
Or a month,
Or a year,
I'll be here,"
Someone once had said.

Their words stuck to me,
I couldn't get them out of my head,
It meant so much to me,
That thing someone once had said.

I knew it was important,
I know it is,
I can't let go of it,
Trust me, I tried,
But it can't be put aside.

It means the world,
What one person can say,
To help you get through,
The light of day.

Thank you, now I can rest,
I can sleep in my warm bed,
But I'll never forget the phrase,
That someone once had said.

Memory is a weird thing
An ever changing scape
The mind is a palace
With a constant give and take

Back when I was young
I put some smaller things
Into a little box
Bits, and bobs, and rings

I called it my time capsule
And now it is hidden
Somewhere below the surface
Like words that were never written

Even though, so long ago
I hid this little box
I will never forget
The memories it unlocks

Who knew a word would hold such power
Who knew a single syllable could hold fate in its hand
Who knew this concept could make a world crumble
Who knew that just the sound of it could break me where I stand

Soon can be impending
Soon can be a promise
Soon can be a dream
Soon is hiding from us

Soon is my worst nightmare
It laughs while I wonder
I shatter and I shiver
Thinking of life yonder

The future is unknown
The future is soon
The future is a melody
With an ever changing tune

I hate that word
With every fibre of my being
I just want to live
The dream that I'm seeing

Soon is a promise
And I promise it will be
Because soon is the future
Just for you and me

The joy of the bloom,
Hope it won't be over soon,
Fear of the past gloom.

A bit of a contradiction
How can a sunset be lit by stars
The flaming clouds douse the sky in golden orange
The only star that sets the sky ablaze is our sun
And yet the sunset is starlit

Stars never leave our sky, only our view, our perception
The sky never stops being sprinkled with the trillion grains of sand
But we forget
The clock strikes noon and we forget the stars

We look up to see hope and light and comfort
Constellations dazzle me
And yet, we forget in a matter of hours
Only to remember when they dazzle again

Life is messy
Life is a bit of a contradiction
But support, love, hope and peace never leave us
We just stop seeing them for a while

Only when nightfalls and darkness settles,
Do we realise that sunsets have always been starlit

I waited patiently,
On the park bench,
He was ten minutes late,
The minutes ticked by.

Twenty,
Thirty,
Forty,
He wasn't coming.

But I still waited,
With hope.

He never came,
I'm still waiting.

I don’t need people to tell me that life will be okay.

I need people to tell me that life *****.
That these lows are inevitable,
and that you cannot undo what is deemed inevitable.

These lows are what drive us to our highs.

I don’t need people telling me sweet nothings.
I don’t need feigned reassurance of a better future,
but acknowledgement of a ****** present.

Is that so much to ask?

Memories faded,
Locked with no key,
Hidden in great depths,
Wandering, but not free.

A dilemma before a donkey,
Between two hay bales,
Teasing, tantalizing,
To choose, he fails.

Sitting and dying,
Perishing of thirst,
Because he couldn't decide,
Which bale to eat first.

A paradox they say,
Is this idea of free will,
A paradox they say,
Is capable to ****.

The hay is tantalizing him,
Tearing him to shreds,
Causing him to stand and watch,
The hay bales, 'til he's dead.

A tattoo is more,
Than a blotch of ink,
A drawing on skin,
Is more than you think.

Regardless of what,
Your tattoo may depict,
The fine illustration,
Isn’t just what you picked.

It is a symbol,
Of humans alive,
And how permanency,
Is all that we strive.

But a tattoo fades,
And we do as well,
Tattoos share a secret,
That man cannot tell.

Just, before you fade away,
Tell humanity to **** it,
And go live your life,
Before you kick the bucket.

Delicate,
Fragile,
Exterior,
It's own style.

Sitting next to those,
Who are the same,
But unique in the eye,
Of a loving dame.

A cute little tea set,
Identified by spots,
A woman yearning dearly,
For these matching pots.

Staring at the cups,
Along with their price,
Which seems to be as much,
As a god-worthy sacrifice.

But regardless of the cost,
The woman had the will,
To save up all her income,
Just for this thrill.

And that is what she did,
She got that tea set,
But to drink out of it,
She never let.

She couldn't handle it,
The risk of the task,
To drink from a cup,
Was way too much to ask.

So instead it stood,
As a lovely display,
In the cabinet of her daughter,
And it still stands there today.

Teenage love,
Is a sensation,
Filled with irrationality,
And temptation.

No way on earth,
Am I romantic,
Nor am I "in love,"
But I have become frantic.

I told this one guy,
That I might . . . you know,
And the fact I won't say it,
Just goes to show . . .

The awkwardness I felt,
Telling a guy, friends for a year,
And being friend-zoned twice,
By someone I hold dear.

It wasn't easy,
Not even in the slight,
And the conversation ended,
With him saying goodnight.

Most friends are people you can,
Do a few things together with.

And if you have a friend that,
You can do anything and everything with,

You usually end up,
Marrying them.

The metal hanging from my wrists,
And the steel clutching my ankles,
The chains weighing me down.

The chains not allowing me to move,
Or eat, or drink, or breathe,
The chains that stop me,
In my tracks,
Simply to listen,
To give in.

The chains of depression,
Dragging me into the depths,
The darkness that lays below,
These chains are the problem.

Will I ever escape them?
Will I ever find a way out?
Will I ever be free?
Was I ever free?
How am I supposed to know?

The chains that cling onto my limbs,
Are the chains we all dread,
We all despise,
We all don't want in our lives.

But hey, I was lucky enough to get them.

You miss a meal,
Then it turns to two,
A day passes,
And no one notices you.

Craving nutrition,
There goes a week,
Those many hours,
Longing for something to eat.

Using the same excuse,
"I'm not hungry, I just ate,"
The numbers keep dropping,
Was sixty-three, now fifty-eight.

You can't go back,
People are noticing you,
They say you should eat, and you say,
"You have something better to do."

It's harder than you think,
Just leave me alone!
Stop telling me to eat and drink!
If I need you, I can find my phone.

When I look down,
I'm not who I want to be,
I stand in the mirror,
And it's not me I see.

I want to be beautiful,
I want to be slimmer,
I want to be comfortable,
I want to be thinner,

I'm not perfect,
But I'm gradually healing,
It will take a while,
Because it's a new feeling.

I'll be in it,
Until the end,
And when I get there,
No longer will I pretend.

I will be okay,
I will be fine,
And my body,
Will finally be mine.

Playing a trick,
On a good friend,
Can never signify,
The relationship end.

A funny little gag,
The ol' switcharoo,
Left us waiting, watching,
Nothing else to do.

A little misplacement,
For our own laughter,
Waiting in anticipation,
With what might happen after.

A bad detective he'd be,
Seemingly blind,
Our friend struggles,
His hat, he won't find.

A good friend indeed,
But I wonder what'll go down,
With our hats replaced,
Will he laugh or frown?

Focus on the present,
I try to tell myself,
Do it for your future,
And your current health.

The past is in the past,
Focus here and now,
I try so very hard,
But I don't know how.

I keep looking back,
Over my shoulder,
And time just passes by,
And I just grow older.

I don't know how to forget,
Or rather, not to dwell,
I'm struggling to escape,
The hole in which I fell.

Life is racing by me,
It's going much too fast,
But I guess it'll keep going,
Because I can't ignore the past.

Locked away,
For no one to find,
Is that special place.

The place I hide,
My deepest treasures,
My best moments,
My fondest memories.

The place I go to,
When I need,
Something to do,
Or when I need,
To be cheered up.

The place I engulf myself in,
For hours on end,
The place where I feel,
Truly safe.

Where I hide,
Is the place in my heart.

You burdened me,
With a name so cruel,
Who names a cat,
After a company of jewels?

Coco Chanel,
Yes, that’s who I was to be,
I did not name the brand,
But the brand named me.

Don’t get me started,
On that obnoxious mutt,
Chua, you called her,
I barely made the cut.

A terrible dog, she was,
I couldn’t stand her breath,
When I decided to catch a bird,
She’d claim it as her death.

And you know who,
Is at fault for this?
It’s you, human,
At the cost of my own bliss.

All because of you,
Alex and Sharron,
You were my downfall,
To the bird's talon.

This tear falls,
Leaving a trace,
Leaving a scar,
On my weary face.

What's done is done,
Now, you can't go back,
Inside, where my heart was,
Now it's black.

All this destruction,
Was caused by you,
The damage was assessed,
And it needs more than glue.

You can't cover it,
Not even with a bandaid,
Nothing can hide the harm,
Of this heart-breaking blade.

The wound merely grows,
As the days pass by,
So, now would be a good time,
To say goodbye.