I'm so glad there's an ocean
Between you and me
Distance and dreams
Are all that can be

If you were next door
What there would be
Is the danger and drama
Of proximity

I tremble to think
Of the crevice and *****
On the slippery hills of
Love full of hope

Windermere, Jan 25 2016

I fell into deep despair,
When no one had  hearts to spare,
Had so much love left to share,
And no one to share it with.
Saw oceans turn children in,
And let voices of politicians win,
Even with all the sins,
I could never find a heart to let me in.
I tumbled and fell many times,
Lost my mind on many rhymes,
Touched many books and many spines,
Yet could not find someone to call mine.
It isn't about possession though,
Just a little glint of hope,
I want to see in scope.
I have been through hell and back,
pulled myself off train tracks,
saw myself get heart attacks,
and all I want is a hand to hold.

Poems are a fun thing to write,
The way my pen lit up at night,
And the only way I ever felt bright.

It became more than just an ordinary hobby,
Surrounded by people who said poets are ******.

Poetry is a way of life,
A way to survive,
A path for people who pray to stay alive,
Settled a life filled with strife,
And nothing left to do but let words strive.

That is why I'm still on Earth,
Writing felt like natures calling,
Because even when I was free falling,
Picking up a pen,
Meant picking myself up again.

So simple
So sadistic.
Satirical and
Sad.

A storm of emotions it
Seems I'm going mad.