The poor shall marvel as the rich will pity,

There is only room for one man in the immigrants city

Every time
I think that I’m really though with you

I laugh at the irony
Exclaim, but not in exuberance
My heart races, only to fade

And a headache follows
With my realized mistake

Every
Single
Time

Why do I look?

Yes,
I miss the way
your eyes watched me
like a predator stalking its prey
tracing my every move with subtle eye movements

The heat of our moment
lite a flame
that can never be distinguished

Force not,
the coming of the ink.

Judge not,
what you feel and think.

•••

Then put nib to paper
and make your mark.

Let what flows
be brazen and stark.

I'm always falling  hard for the person in the mirror