I wait in the concrete jungle,
Streets brimming with repetition,
And capitalism is dying.
     I never saw the stripes
Fall ssecond,
And hope has moved to Asia
     I love my country,
Patriot of a broken system,
Love of my Life,
Salvation come Home,
United we fall,
       In a state of comfortable
Ignorance,
     Mother America,
Land of the Freed,
    Where has the dream gone......

My wait is over,
   I step on to the public transit,
Thinking about my bankrupt
State of mind,
     The lein on my back,
The debt in my heart,
     And the thought of learning
Chinese.

Tears like upside down smiles,
Bringing the condensation,
I bicker with the way its
Supposed to be
And when I get it right,
The tears go up,
Ironical universe and I know
That it could be worse,
Cuz even rain going the wrong way
Is still looking up.

Write the words
As the blind hear the world;
A drizzle faints the sidewalk,
Concrete waters drumming.
Listened memories
Voices speak life languages
And a memorable season
Becomes a written page.

The pages written
As another sunrises,
Enchanted sol
I write your light into dawn
And the night is mistress among
Her night and the ripples of
An enchanted moon speak
The poetic soul.

Life wounds
Until we are born unto
Deaths doors,
Words, like unspoken love
With out poetic expressions
Is like the center of your soul
Silenced by the living flesh;

Written poems,
Freed souls.

That girl sitting there
is a beautiful tragedy
her mind is an aghast
her body
is her grave
her bones
ache
while her throat is being strangled
whats wrong with her mind
cant ever be untangled.
she,
is a beautiful tragedy

Could mean brushing my hair
Or you combing my emotions for entry points.
Either way,
Untangling the knots
HURTS.