I leave little pieces of me
As I move along the way
From the thin of my perfection
To the thick of my mistakes

Where they tell the story of me
My daily escapades
From my moments of glory
To the white flags that I wave

Collecting pieces of me
Like butterflies pinned in frame
A silence to the beauty
That almost got away

Little pieces of me
I either lost or gave
Anyways they're free
Do with them as you may

Don't be afraid to write a love poem
And give it to that special one
That flutters your heart wherever you are
The one that makes your tongue come undone

You can say it all in a love poem
Give it time to work your heart and mind
To help in the search for the perfect words
To set your feelings into rhyme

There's nothing better than a love poem
To get your point of love across
To make it clear you're forever here
When you rhyme it down in  love

Real love goes beyond the bounds of outward desire
It supersedes the limits of feeling, emotions, and compliance with the heart
It knows not of the wastelands of pain, crusted over with senses of false trust
And security built upon foundations of lust fall to the ground because it is not real love

Still...

To be still with myself.
This i avoid.
It's uncomfortable just yet,
To be still with myself.

Too many thoughts in my head,
For me to untwist and untangle.
Too many memories.
I dont want to live over again.
Too many heartaches unfed.
Too many failures and mistakes,
That can never be earsed.

These i can not unbreak,
And i do not face.
Why be still and reflect on these pains?
It doesnt make them change.

Still is just not me.
That i can not be.
Busy I'll continue to be
Until there is nothing left
But still...
Then i will be still.

Lori L. Mack
10/28/2015