In the sheets of drizzle below the autumn cloud
eyes beaming with the glow of love
wave at the receding figure
to the farthest visibility.

The man leashed to the cubicle with the screen
would think of those faces
when the day is at its broadest invitation
and light like the luminous ether
fills every dark pocket of the land
listening to the rhyme of the clock
from his abyss of ratios and rates
while the vagabond clouds come together
and break apart in the game of revealing blue
painting new faces and waving hands
on the landscape of the gate
up to the farthest turn
in the sheets of drizzle
beneath the autumn clouds.

I write too many poems
They're bursting from my brain
Hundreds may come out
But thousands still remain
I've got so much to say
Most of it is true
It's lifted from my shoulders
When I share it with you

I'm the poet with teribel gramar
And I cannot spel
I set a long this careir path
But it hasnt gone sew well

I now know
Why you rushed me
In that contagious overcrowded street
In those dark blocks
I starved because I'as not so brave and bold
My wounds were the only symptoms and signs
Of my still anonymous disease
I'as vigilant of your ill-tempered laugh
I was the bird caught in your chaff
And as I flapped my wings
You lashed them, you wild beast
Yet you're not begging now
I'm the one begging
Not because I'm a coward
But because I've made myself selfish now.

Hello.
I am the trending poem.                                                            ­            
         you see me and I make you feel alive
                                             so you like me and re-post me
                                                              ­    then you leave me alone to die.
Hello,
I am your forgotten lines.
             you created me with a careful love
                                                          an­d decisive rhymes
                                      and then to the bottom of your page I'm shoved.
Hello
I am forgotten, alone and unloved
                           a faded smile a broken dove
                                               I once was beautiful, touching.
                                                       ­   now, I've been replaced, I'm nothing.

I've made my promises
My commitments
I've made my sorrows
A wounded guilt
I've made my ignorance
A delighted disgrace
My deep valley of emotions
Crying for travellers
Nothing to spare
For my wicked soul
Nothing glittering
In my heart of gold..