I wonder if they thought I would ever care
Sometimes emotionally dormant,
I live my life like a mannequin
Still in every way...
I wonder if he thought of me or only himself
I wonder if she knew how I would feel
I've made my mistakes and now I'll make a few more...
Try to be okay
Try to be okay
I deserve myself, I served me well
I miss my friends, the ones I would die for
I desire no revenge, I'll dig no graves
All is fair in love and war and
Try to be okay
...so the mind was made for torture
Back track. Remember. Stop. Time pass quickly.
Tears run down the cheeks of the sky,
Grazed by the anguish of the sun
If I could go back in time I wouldn't change you,
I'd change my mind.

I'm weak and can't love what has ruined me
...and can't hate what has all but made me
My mind is sick I made it so
Through lies and misplaced trust I have lost myself
I miss myself, how I used to be
The ones I care for just don't see
I found a love I can not keep
When you realise what I am
You might begin to understand
I'm lonely and sad in the company of the man I think I am
The ability to make people feel how you want dies with time the more you use it
When your emotions fade and you no longer believe in what you say
They see straight through you
People see lies as much as hear them
I am my own worst enemy
I hate myself for my strengths as well as my weaknesses
None of you feel like friends right now
Some of you betrayed me
Even let me down... You could've put your **** in anything.
Yet twice you you took a piece of my puzzle
Singed the edges and deformed its curves
And now it can never be complete
I think that's my fault
Somewhere down the line I let someone down again

All it is, is just meat
Or eat it like a treat
You may think this is where my problem stands
So *** help me and give me some hands
If you help me ill catch all your traitor
Trust me im a master baiter
If you help me in the morning with the wood
Maybe ill treat you to a lollipop if you would
My **** has pros and CONS that will DOM. (Dominate) which is true
So nothing can protect you
I just may call you a **** face
So wipe the residue and smirk off your face leaving without a trace

.
                               envy envy
                           envy envy envy
                         envy  envy   envy
                         envy  envy   envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                          envy envy envy
                    envyenvy            envy envy
              envy envyenvy    envy envyenvy
            envy envy envy    envy  envy   envy
             envy envy envy    envy envy envy
               envy   envy                envy envy

Poetry is like a *****
in its wobbly, dangly freeness
(This poems not the cleanest so stop reading if you're a little squeamish)

Some have it, some don't
some use it, some won't
some like it awkward with a twist at the end
like a shakespearean couplet but on the person it depends

for others its merely secondary
(oh but always necessary)
to the holder - their Mars or Venus
So, as god is my witness,
poetry is a *****

Tinkling giggle, rising flush,
Two hearts to burst with tenderness.

~
he who is a little ahead of his time
whose treasures of the words random
romanticism is in the blood, marrow,
his mood is as the autumn clouds

he who has lost his path within path
drowning with dreams, sunk you within dreams  
again holds thousands of lost dreams
fly the colorful kites in the blue sky

he who hide within himself
**** in his naked poetry
In forms humorous,harmonic  
as a portrait of the Vincent's starry night

he is a pilgrim who has lost himself within spirituality  
holds everything with the love  
who is for everybody so everybody is for him
But in fact there is nothing in all his

he who is simple straight as the waterfall
when in complex grew hard stone
who broke rules for building rules,
knows himself within the other life

whose words never be end
again he moves on and on
who laughs in the moonlight
again swept in pain without thinking any gain

who looks the life
as a grain of sand
and see the sign of love
in the footprint of a fossil

he who is a poet -
~

People that known me my whole life here.
Knows just how a big mess that I been here.
Yet through the years , God has reworked me.
The accomplishments were definitely not mine.
But they belong to the Savior, the King of Kings.
I am still a nobody whom am allowing God.
To change me from the inside, out every day.
I know that whenever I do things on my own.
I mess them up but when God does things to me.
Or when he allow others to help me accomplish things.
Then they are done the right way not the wrong way.
I get frustrated at times because I mess things up.
But I would rather have Christ living within me.
Then to do everything on my own without him.
So I will thank him for creating me the way that he did.

Hello poetry
a home for my aching soul
goodbye cowardice