There's a hole in my chest where your soul used to be
One day he decided he'd rather be free
I begged and I pleaded but he just couldn't see
Then he floated away, screaming "please rescue me"

There's a hole in my chest where your soul used to be
But my ribs held no comfort, unfortunately
As he drifted away while I flew toward the sea
I cried out, "I'm sorry," and hoped he believed.

More loss...
Of life
Somebody somewhere has lost
A father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a husband… a wife
On this Saturday morning
Somebody is weeping… somebody is mourning
‘News just in’… it probably is a media frenzy…
By now
But somewhere out there
Some people do not know where they’re friends be
Right now
Eleven dead… eleven nameless people gone
Unless it’s your loss, then somebody has a name
This is that ‘it’s someone else’s problem’ game
The news you hear… but it doesn’t really ‘hit home’
Unless it really does ‘hit home’
To me… like to you, right now these people are unknown
But they are still people… they were living, breathing people
Now gone
On a Saturday morning
Many are beginning a sad day… mourning
We can lay blame on the ferry services… the lack of precaution
And trust me, they deserve that blame… they really do
But to pin point one particular person to blame it on?... Really?... Who?
Right now… today
Let’s just take a moment to pray
For the injured and the gone
And when I say …I’m glad it isn’t a school day
And most school-going children are at home
I know I’m not alone.

Love is like a tapestry bright,
A tiny spark to brighten the night,
Love shall forever glow;
Just like the sun sparkles upon snow.

Love is like a creek,
So beautiful and yet so meek,
Love is like a child;
So tender and so mild.

Love is as endless as the rolling sea,
Love is a painting in the sky,
Even though love we cannot see;
It can be seen in little deeds of kindness for love is a bond. . .  One big tie.

*~Marian~

I wish you wouldn't think ill of your poems or books
and say they're no good
because they are I know they are
especially your book called: The Fugitive
I really loved it you brought out a lot of emotions
and lots of picturesque nature
it made me laugh
it made me cry and feel like weeping
I don't understand why you don't like your books and poems
and say "I could a lot better now" when you have always wrote perfectly
and that's the way you will ALWAYS write because even when you pen down stories
your stories are so good I crave to know more and if I keep asking you perhaps all of your stories will become novels, fiction, and books

"Everytime you write I crave for more!! And I just keep wishing you wouldn't say your novels, fiction, music, poems, and books are no good because they're the VERY best!!!"

                                                
*~Mar­ian~

My throat is sore from the screaming
My lungs tired from the breathing
I've given up on trying to make you see
That I am slowly fading away

My heart is losing it's rhythm
My mind's wheel's are slowing their spinning
And all the while you just keep going
Smiling as if you don't know you could save me