Bring me back my love
Whom god hath torn asunder
Bring me back my love
I can stand the solitude no longer

Darling come to me
Darling please
Don’t leave me alone

Wherever you may be
Is where my spirit longs to be
Talk to me, darling
I’m still me
I may not be with you
On Earth anymore
I know we said goodbye in one way
That night on that floor
But darling I love you
Always and true
Nothing could take me away from you
Daily and nightly I shall persevere
Until the right day that you find me here
And then we shall continue
The work we began
For the seventh generation
To make its stand
All is well here on Earth
For just one more day
Let us fly off together briefly
Like the pair of
Monarchs we are

In the peaceful magical world
where I would be living

No one would dream of a better world
as the one we've been given.

i am thinking of you, until when.

when. not seeing you.

i stretch out my hands (like a blind man)
stepping on sounds -
pieces of glass underfoot

keeping you pierced in my heels. until

when. i can't hear you.

i soften your steps with my lips

when. i don't touch you.

i don't touch yourtouch.  

until

i cry

There I was
Alone sitting down.  
You sat next to me and said hi.
I wanted to get away from you
I don't know why

Kindness and friendliness
Is what you offered me everyday.
I started enjoying your company
Laughing and smiling
Each day we saw each other.

Months passed.
I realized that I had feelings for you.
My heart leaped everytime I saw you
Loving each smile you gave me.
Enjoying every silly conversation
That we had in that dull classroom.

Its been two years.
We no longer talk like before.
I never told you that I liked you.
You're now with her.
And each night I feel sad.

But I'll always treasure those moments we had.
Remembering that young boy that sat next to me.
Who was kind and sweet.
That smile that would make my heart melt
Was one of a kind.

How this **** fable instructs
And mocks! Here's the parody of that moral mousetrap
Set in the proverbs stitched on samplers
Approving chased girls who get them to a tree
And put on bark's nun-black

Habit which deflects
All amorous arrows. For to sheathe the ****** shape
In a scabbard of wood baffles pursuers,
Whether goat-thighed or god-haloed. Ever since that first Daphne
Switched her incomparable back

For a bay-tree hide, respect's
Twined to her hard limbs like ivy: the puritan lip
Cries: 'Celebrate Syrinx whose demurs
Won her the frog-colored skin, pale pith and watery
Bed of a reed. Look:

Pine-needle armor protects
Pitys from Pan's assault! And though age drop
Their leafy crowns, their fame soars,
Eclipsing Eva, Cleo and Helen of Troy:
For which of those would speak

For a fashion that constricts
White bodies in a wooden girdle, root to top
Unfaced, unformed, the ******-flowers
Shrouded to suckle darkness? Only they
Who keep cool and holy make

A sanctum to attract
Green virgins, consecrating limb and lip
To chastity's service: like prophets, like preachers,
They descant on the serene and seraphic beauty
Of virgins for virginity's sake.'

Be certain some such pact's
Been struck to keep all glory in the grip
Of ugly spinsters and barren sirs
As you etch on the inner window of your eye
This ****** on her rack:

She, ripe and unplucked, 's
Lain splayed too long in the tortuous boughs: overripe
Now, dour-faced, her fingers
Stiff as twigs, her body woodenly
Askew, she'll ache and wake

Though doomsday bud. Neglect's
Given her lips that lemon-tasting droop:
Untongued, all beauty's bright juice sours.
Tree-twist will ape this gross anatomy
Till irony's bough break.

I will be free, Papa said.
No more tummy growls, Mama said.
I won't be sick often, Papa said.

I can dream, Mama said.
School I can go, Papa said.
Stars I can reach, Mama said.

Land of plenty, Papa said,
Cats have toys, Mama said.
Dogs sleep on beds, Papa said.

Don’t drag my Papa, I begged.
Don’t take my Mama, I cried .
Inside a cage my tears dried.

If only the crucified trees
could speak or scream
and tell us where to cast our gaze.
“To the sky!” they’d say,
where cotton candy clouds
are pink plumes of possibility.

If only these crucified trees
could speak or scream
above the howling wind
then maybe just maybe
our salty sweat of toil
could somehow be sweetened
by their resolute will.

What the trees once were
will always be,
their scars remain the tortured skin,
weathered trunks, empty souls
and empty pockets… yet still
they find a way to feed and
nurture blossoming buds.

….if only we might lift our eyes
and learn from the trees…

Is my pain reality
Or is it in my head
Will it disappear
Or stay with me till I’m dead
My existence is a struggle
Day to day a living test
But the love of my family
Keeps me trying my best