Untitled poems are where the mystery lies,
Behind soft lyrics, they are pretty shy,
Behind every person, are hidden cries.
Untitled poems are always crystal clear,
They say what they say, and there’s never no fear,
And there’s always a second try that lies behind your clever wits when you cheer.
Untitled poems, they never linger,
By the end of the day, they always find a better trigger,
To cast away for another day,
But leaves the papers tainted.
Creating in their own twisted ways,
Leaving their hands painted.
There’s always going to be a poem that’s going to uplift or downfall someone’s spirits into making someone going forward or backwards in life and make them think a little on what they should do in a long or short term goal.