I laid my heart out on a plate
Served it with my soul on the side
After an internal debate
The world moved on, my dreams denied.

What's missing?- The look, the flavor?
What should I change, so it will see?
Will I ever earn its favor?
Or will it just be fantasy?

If I truly let myself cry
I'd create an ocean of grief
Land would crumble in my sorrow
A damnation without relief.

They'd see how it feels to live a lie
Yet, a hole in my heart remains
They'd wish and wish for no tomorrow...
Yet, all the tears are spilt in vain.

The seas would dry, the Earth will heal
I'd still live with a broken heart
If I glue it back together
After a while, it falls apart.

This anger... hurts, even if it's real
Perhaps it isn't the right cure
By learning to make pleasant weather
In love and peace, I will endure.

If I were a poem
I'd be made of words
That only you'd understand.

I used to live in a river
Fluid, strong, going with the flow
But over time, I reached the sky
I stayed on land as ice and snow.

I don't know where my true home is
I keep moving among the three
Where was I born, where should I stay
That, to me, is a mystery.

I've been everywhere, seen it all
There's not much else to discover
To dwell in travel is my fate
Perhaps I am a wanderer.

I don't know if I'm saying goodbye
I don't know if I must laugh or cry.
My heart feels as if it's torn in two
I don't know if I'll get over you.
9 years I've waited, through ebb and flow
But I'm too tired now: I'll let you go.
I'm not giving up- I tried my best
I've merely failed in life's arduous test.
Someday, if we ever meet again
Remember these words- your last refrain
"I cannot give you more of me
We do make a great fantasy
I hope someone does make you real
In time, I'll learn the way to heal."

Cannot speak a word
Devoid of expression
Only having tears to offer
How long will they spill
Before they leave too?
How long must one walk
Before their legs fall off?
How long must one break
Before they're put together again?

Looking at a future that seems so grey
It's like all the colors have gone away
With emotion locked in an airtight chest,
So what remains is void, in quiet unrest
With tears to be occasional company,
Rampant thoughts form a soundless symphony.
Staring into space, people come and go-
The world is fast, yet in some ways, so slow.
There is no end to this chaos in sight,
The line further blurred between wrong and right.
Does it matter that these words are read?
Perhaps they should be hopeful instead
Pretending that everything will be fine
A noose of lies tightening with each headline.
Thus one plays the elusive waiting game,
Knowing that nothing will ever be the same.