Dear Mr. Poet Man,
How do you do that?
You make the most of everything
Even when there is nothing.
It confounds me so to see,
Mr. Poet Man,
The things my heart says to me in utmost secrecy
Written in your words.
How, Mr. Poet Man, do you constantly see
Beauty in all things, Even Death?
I need to know Mr. Poet Man,
How does one die beautifully?
Would I be beautiful to you then?

Love is an impenetrable fortress.
Much unlike my heart,
Which shakes and falls into shambles
With little to no effort.
I take my heart-string sword in hand
And slice at Love's strong walls.
Every chop an ineffective gamble,
Causing damage only to me.
Battle scarred and worn, I rest tonight.
Only to repeat The Quest tomorrow

I try to do everything correctly.
I smile, laugh, use correct grammar,
But nothing seems to work.
Is there a dent?
A crack in my facade?
I look happy, right?
Then what?
My personality?
My intelligence?
I look happy, right?
Do you love me?
Do I love me?
What's wrong with me?

I love you
More than you know.
I believe that
You and I
Have chemistry!
Maybe we could
Start a new
Relationship...
Oh, I see...
I'm glad for
Our friendship...

In the meadows where trees are seldom,
purple flowers congregate.
Their petals flutter as they mutter
hidden by the breeze.
In the meadow where trees are seldom,
purple flowers congregate
Their stems contort as they abort
dew from their leaves.
In the meadows are purple flowers.
Are those flowers free?

How do you live
when the world turns upside down?
And gravity is the only thing
that cares enough to hold you.