The atmosphere surrounding us after our first kiss, felt so heavy —
Her energy is thick, her smile is as smooth as the finest silk,
The desire of her eyes burns me, peering deeply into my eyes.

I'm blind in love...

Yet, I still hope to see our future together —
I hoped as much, but that hope has become a past pleasure;
I still treasure those dear moments we shared: it was fun to smile,
A joy to love, and a dream being lost in that enchanting fantasy,
Of hoping patiently, someone could be your potential future wife.

I'm no longer blind in love...

For she helped me find a piece of myself, reshaping the rhythm —
Of my heart, to remind me that I never once lost its spark,
Oh, the joy of having loved, the sorrow of having lost;
But the greatest gain, was holding onto the feeling of love itself.

Thank you, for it was you who opened my eyes!

Tomorrow laughs at your strong belief’s certainty,
    of its arrival being a promise etched in stone.

Today holds a heavy sigh in a weary breath,
    by your indifference, to not value what you have.

While Yesterday just smiles, and boldly chuckles,
    at the endless attention you love to give her.

Heavy is the weapon that carries it’s victim’s blood –
Heavy is a ***** mind that eventually fills with mud;
Heavy are your eyes in a dream, like a sleeping prong,
Piercing your thoughts in the daylight; life lives short –
While the dreams we make of ourselves live long.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown,
Heavy is the crowd, hoping to see you down;
Heavy is the weight of love, to make your kids proud.

For by the blood of ourselves, the words of our tongue
Are the greatest weapons, to lift or bring others down,
Even as your dirtiest thoughts subtly attract so easily,
It comes from all being fully stained in our sin’s filth –
While your dreams are the length of your passions;
The measure you take to achieve them, lies in width.

Bearing the crown of responsibility; those below you,
Look you down, seeing your success without longevity.
Avoid the negativity, live in positivity, a life of wisdom,
Joy, & love – a legacy your young would be proud to be.

Forgotten traces of a pencil – I’ve been built
by words; public reputation is the means of
being good at your own public relations.
As love’s repetition is loving those you’ve
fallen in love with, off the pages of life rather
than the scripts of perfected fiction.

And to believe your love is perfect is to rival
God's – where you become your own judge;
biased as much, for the flesh desires to feed
only itself; the flesh isn’t the perfection of love.

For everyday of life is the day for all equal dogs,
moral or uncouth,  posterity rests its favour –
Still a dog must know not to bite the hand that
feeds it; as it seeks the hand’s favour – wouldn’t
we all like to find favour in the hands of our Creator,

What are dogs to their Creator?

Funny how it’s hard to explain the feeling of LOVE –
But easier explaining the loneliness; we don’t miss
As much, until we’re missing that familiar touch
Its not about the crush, it’s that rush – that hopeful
Romantics picture of them one day finding LOVE.

Where some are heart led, an ***** of compound LOVE–
In love sickness, we could be a lead compound, hoping
For the promise to treat such a disease; searching for LOVE
Is always easy said then done, and when we've gone
Through our hardships we say, “I’m so done with LOVE!”

But LOVE is never done with you, give it another round,
And you’ll start smiling that you’ve found the One
LOVE is a marathon of going round, and round, until
You can run this race of life with someone you truly,

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE - and their LOVE you want!

I went outside, and met a black queen that ruled over all of my
thoughts – hoping she wasn’t a bad dream. But she'd still love me
despite my arrogance; my pivoting thoughts that swing along my
many moods swings. Fair enough; she’d understand me better,
knowing I wasn’t treated fair enough, under the same sun that
makes her skin fair as much.

Still is there a woman of your dreams when you barely feel awake;
the grass is always greener from a distance, but your eyes can never
catch the green of their snakes. And whenever I tell a short girl
a good short joke, she looks at me to keep it brief – but if I said it in
short: a laugh from a girl, is a guy’s idea of knowing he can get a
taste of those lips. But wouldn’t we love to dream in sweet relief,
while I find it less attainable when someone has me losing sleep.

Please give me my peace that comes with my piece: a piece of mind,
a piece of spark to a piece of love. But when I met the queen, I never
thought it would come with love – but she never felt a spark, paying
no mind to me. We were just two strangers in town, walking on two
different paths, who happened to glance at each other, only once!

Cast forth a handful of these pro seeds;
a promise of potential – hoping the value of
them, proceeds the muck that clings to your spirit.
The filth of your mind you must strain per sieve;
being wise to carry a filter, for all the shadows that
your mind will perceive.

As I'm learning the art of resilience;
refusing to fret whenever life wears me down
– like a flower dressed by the whims of the seasons;
whether you like it out, life is full of these changes.
So gather a bouquet of flowers on top of your head,
to remind you of such a nature, and don them as
a regal crown.