To the girl,
he is going to marry,


   When he comes home drunk,
   And calls out my name,
  Just kiss him and whisper,
  "I'm here, honey."

Mom told me about the abortion,
Well, it's good that you're home again, little angel.


     -yours
                          A lonely brother

"If you ever fall in love with someone,
Who is not me,
Make sure she's not a writer."
She requested.

"But why?"
he questioned, puzzled.

"Because I don't want her to steal the only place where you belong to me forever."
She replied with teary eyes.

You call them poems,
I call them hope.

The difference between a writer and a reader is that,
A writer plays with words,
And,
Words play with a reader.

Meeting you was an accident,
And
You are the scar
I never want to heal from.

Her love was like the moonlight,
Somedays too much love,
And
Somedays no love.