Consumed by a life
    She couldn't handle anymore
          Ashamed by desires
       Too desperate to score
               It's just too addicting
   She wants nothing more
Watching everything she loves
            Walk out the door
    Finds money where she can
         But still living life poor
          Too smart to get too involved
     And too dumb to ignore it
             She don't even care
      They all call her a *****
Now thinking, as she sees the knife
           This isn't what she prepared for
    But with a little thought, she knows  
It's what she's always had in store
              As she lays, bleeding out
     On her ****** kitchen floor

It's easy
Why are you so sad?
Cheer up!
Buck up,
It's like you're
not even trying.
Quit moping
Quit thinking
Smile,
It's your
own happiness
You're denying.
Some people
have real problems,
You're just faking.
Positivity
cures
all.
Quit your
bellyaching.

We hear this all the time,
Do you think it really helps?
Those endless
thoughtless platitudes
You spit when
we get sore
Maybe if you understood.
Maybe if you knew.
You'd talk a little less,
and listen a little more.

With a pen to a paper,
Like a sword to a foe,
I write poetry,
And present it to the world,
Like a present with a bow.
Letting the words
fill my paper.
Watching them take flight
Like many birds
drifting across updrafts in the wind.
And I will send
Them like a "get well" card
To every person who needs a friend.
Poetry is a healing process.
A coping system
A cure
A medicine for those in need.
Poetry is a dream
In which you don't
Have to scream
Unless you want to.
A dream that you control,
A beam that you can hold,
A story yet untold,
Perfectly crafted jewel,
With scripture writ in gold.

After our conversation
I was left unsettled, like the pages of my life and been torn out
I left the celebration
As the sky lit up like gold, walking home my usual route

I know the party lasted until late afternoon
and when you are drunk you don't notice much
Empty bottles among colourful, frail balloons
and my glass of wine in the corner untouched

After our conversation
I was left uneasy, like I'd been walking in circles on a straight road
I left the celebration
As the sun woke the city, walking home to the music's echo

I know the party lasted until late afternoon
and when you are drunk you talk too much
Empty words strung in a truthful, painful tune
and my glass of wine in the corner untouched

After our conversation
I was left confused, like I'd forgotten every face and every day
I left the celebration
With a heart that was bruised, and I could hear the sirens not too far away