It's truly
a
chaotic
thing
to
suddenly
see

starlight,
heaven,
and
everything

in someone's eyes

What would we create if we didn't
Care how others saw our art?
Would we write the exact same poems
Were we not collecting hearts?
Sometimes I really wonder
Whether what I say would be more true
If what I wrote were just for me
And not to share with all of you

We know when we are being watched
And it makes us act different
Instead of simply doing, being
Now we try to represent
This goes not just for humans
But for subatomic particles
I read about it in some kind of
Scientific article

How many eyes are watching me
And altering the way I act?
I hide in a cube in 3D
Somewhere it is a tesseract
Sometimes it's much more fun
To think about this process in reverse
I stare into the starlit sky
And rearrange the Universe

My pages speak nothing of love
For me it is sinful to glorify thereof
My journals are true to emotion
Love is absent and forbidden

The only traces are unrequited;
The remorseless: skillfully blighted

But he has cleared all heretofore:
He has rebuilt the love I'd bore
And come to me after a marathon
Jovial to have crowned me paragon

Now my pages can dance and wheel
And no longer share my solitary ordeal

I could never tell you
exactly what's going on inside my head,
so I'll write instead.
Drown my thoughts in paper & lead.
Keep my hands alive,
and my expression dead.

Imagen being the sun
Everyone admires you,
Loves you and want to see you

But when you shine you
Know you hurt people
You see people turn
Away in disgust

Even though you shine
Brighter than anyone else
You are all alone your
Hole day you try to please other

You work all day long
And all night long but
Have nothing to look
Forward to, depressing