I have a running mind, chasing ***** thoughts
my feet are shadows of stepping into a dark past
tears made of stone; to cry and put up a wall
dreams are glass—careful not crack if they don't happen
And being in love is time, I'm just searching for someone right
to spend all my time with...

I had this piece come to me in a dream without a beginning,
but only with an end to record...

What's love: about keeping your word,
but not always knowing how it goes

What's love: as a purest scent by the intentions you
could smell, that not everyone knows

What's love: but a game; of sometimes being
an emotional sport

What's love: to a friend, as only a light promise to them;
while an enemy's revenge, is always kept by their word

And what's love meant to be, and how is it supposed to
be shown, if it just always remains a word?
  

                   ...I guess I'll never know.

Dial, dial,
the beeping is going so long.
Hello,
do you hear my silence or best do I sing it in song.
Hours,
Here be a thousand hours filled in a bottle on this one empty call,
I lost track for a moment and had to restart. Excuse me I had to stall.

Calling all my friends,
could we meet at the corner of the bar.
Wait outside till the bouncer would blink and move past him faster than a speeding sports car.

Rather yet I should call my mother and ask her how she been.
Last I would of heard of her voice would be ages older than her. Never ment to be mean.
Yet  a bag of ten pieces of silver quarters.
Would I call my father?
Daddy, daddy ,
I don't want to go to school no more, it feels too risky like I'm still crossing illegal borders.

But I never pressed a button that held that number.
Though I could of called a doctor to cure such insanity. To it, I be it's newcomer.

To have people move past me and see into this empty box,
Thinking of who to what I would call, with my silver pieces hidden inside my socks.
Just don't try to call me right now, I probably wouldn't know the time to call you back.
This time feels too short, so it's time to set goals on all the things I lack.

An evaporating breath,
trying to photosynthesize with you
and make every kiss sweet like sugar
But I couldn't say that I loved you from
the very start,- still looking for that root word

                 ****, how you've grown on me.

She: If I was a worm, would you still love me

Me:- I'd say you wiggled yourself into my life

She: How could I ever make a mark on someone I've so badly fallen in
         love with

Me: Bite me! And by those means, you'll definitely leave your
        mark

Now I'm not a strangers man or common randomness,
But this is who I am, in love with fairytale kisses and less of craziness.

Ok I ment that as a fake story told by a real life person,
So maybe today I kissed a sun and a moon yesterday and maybe these kisses left me swearing but I really  hate cursing.
Maybe I kissed a lot of girls but still don't know what was the best,
But my best could of been the one, yet I'm thinking about all the rest.

Kissing a dream while  I was daydreaming,
Tried to be kissing  a thousand girls in my head, but that plan I'm still scheming.

But what was my best kiss, still can't remember,
Somewhere in the back of my mind, just search  really deep inside from past days in September.
Those were some fairytale kisses, some good ones indeed if they're real.
But what was the best kissing tale, because I once had a kiss that left in my mouth, that taste of steel.

Back it up, way back, there's my best kiss from my first love and desire,
She was a pretty one, kissed her on the ground but I was left higher.
Matter of fact it felt so warm like campsite  fire,
Still remembering that feeling in my lips, will this kiss  be my best, I won't tell you,  to afraid of being such a  liar.

But that's just  fairytale kisses.
Just a weird man wishing for some strange wishes.

In the fray of lips, what real significance
do most of my words hold for me today
My eyes are like two unyielding stones,
cloaked in these skipping shades of grey;
I've witnessed love's deceit; so profound
that I tossed my own vision away.

Still, I’ll pursue every dream I cherish,
and remain hopeful even after I pray
—reflecting on the struggles that shaped us
all yesterday, which have led me to this day.

Even if greatness eludes me, dear Lord, grant
me a life of purpose, so I can declare that I am
truly living close the means of being okay…

If I could go back in time just to be two seconds closer to you,
I'd already save up the hours I have just to find my way back to you.

If I could only fit right through the cracks to find my way back to you,
I'd be running all the way back because I'm in love with you.

I swear I'm drowning in a pool of love, but it's really all I've got.
It's all but a little, but to me it seems like a lot.

In time, it feels like I'm two seconds ahead of you.
And when you're not around I don't know what to do.
Feels like I'm just so lost away from you.

If only I could buy the time.
You would be mine.

If I could be the hours of your life just to be much closer you,
I'd swear the seconds I've bought could fill the time to let me stay right next to you.

If I only had the time to spend all my hours on you,
I'd find all the reasons the why I can't ever get enough of you.

I swear I'm drowning in a pool of love, but it's really all I've got.
It's all but a little, but to me it seems like a lot.

In time, it feels like I'm two seconds ahead of you.
And when you're not around I don't know what to do.
Feels like I'm just so lost away from you.

If only I could buy the time.
You would be mine.

Stars shining brightly tonight,
the Heavens must be warm
Why wouldn't they be,
especially now in a world so cold.

The bite of thunder
echoes across the globe,
The tears of skies flood the world,
as the ashes of chaos have grown a Rose.

Do I suppose,
to know all the pieces I could hold,
Pieces of the sky
give a lot more to behold
The skies, like Heaven
are as precious as gold
And with them,
the many secrets yet to be told.

I remember you like a beautiful poem,
and I'm still searching for the perfect words
To add another verse to our story.
Each touch of your skin inspires me
to create something even more enchanting.

Is perception of mind
guided by sight,
For if you see evil
does that mean there's evil on your mind?
If I'm depressed
is it because of feelings not addressed
Perhaps I should tidy my mind,
for being such a mess.

Time waits for no-one,
we wait for it to do something right,
Good intent seems only to work
when there's a prize on the side.
Human nature often aids,
only if seen benefiting our lives.

Still!

Who are the wise,
but quiet men around the loudest of fools.
Who are the stubborn,
but those who can argue with a mule.
Your very behind,
is the past you can't let go of,
An ***,
pulling a weight of weighing into doom.

Poor excuses we make,
are reflex to the problems we try to escape.
But as beings,
who may not head in the right direction
The head above can show you the better way.

Don't be crooked as the world,
learn to think straight!
Don't be fearful of tomorrow,
Today's moment is for you to be brave.

Defy what lies,
beyond the perception of your mind.

The echo of silence; in amongst it's violence
A flower that represents himself; I am a violet
In a dream of roses, sitting in the concrete,
I'm paved in all those resting memories

            ...I am a beautiful dream

I dream,
a better world to speak
For my chaotic thoughts to find peace.
My loudest prayer is the Lord saves me.

I'm too afraid to dream
just in case I wake,
So hard for me to believe
with the painted demons on my face.
Spare me grace,
for straying away from His way

Lonely as I am,
darkness loves to surround me.
In need of grief,
tending to be a dark funeral.
My life's not so concrete,
then again, I wasn't born in the streets.

The dreams I chase,
are always on the run from me
I hook and bait,
but haven't caught myself a piece.
Lord sees me often sad,
that's not the plan.
But it's hard for me to understand,
those praying with both hands
On the other hand, get given the worst hand.

I dream of man doing better
for themselves for the sake of another
When man wouldn't hesitate
to help out a brother.
The bravest are the lovers,
as the selfish are only cowards.

It's nice to dream,
but honestly for me
I hope that dream is something I actually see.

Take what you need, leave what you want.
Life's a work of art, sharpen your pencil to draw your dreams out. Never use the pencil of blunt.

Why waste much time throwing Dreams out the window, expected for someone to catch them.
Why hold onto cold emptiness instead,  if the dreams are real to you hold tightly, grab them, latch them.

Let me draw you some piece to Truth.
Everybody is the genius in their own sense. Born with it all just often lost when you be a typical youth.

Try harder till it becomes your best,
draw out the creativity of your mind and heart so you stand out of the rest.
We all living a scary same life, just different demons,
rubbing the beauty of what we create, no longer dreaming.
Yet the artist would face much criticism.
Many take one's own dreams to be nothing but memory bubbles, traveling round The Truth. Much tourism.

But that's the pain though,
hate still the same though.
The greatest greed can be the fame though,
you could hate the picture I draw, think I'm insane though.

But I'll draw out what The Creator put in me to let out.
If it offends I apologize but I'll go all out.

Willow branches,
a basket case kind of person with messy hair
Feelings gone in the wind,
by the time we're clearing it out, and masking
up, whenever there's a hint of love in the air,

But you still don't have a clue,
rhymes, rhythm, and riddles; usually the questions dancing
around, to feel the same- but not a correspondence of the two
You and I, trying to see a poor connection,
while ringing up the reasons on different area codes
and on disconnected Wi-Fi. What's there for us to do,

When you smile so crooked, on the straight and narrow,
speaking so loosely of yourself, and being walked
over by people with loose shoe laces- they're just a blunt arrow
You know the type; that never really get a point,
but would score any chance of making you their girl
To try and fit the two; love and trust. But they're just
blowing smoke in the wind, of a social joint,

Still I've know many trying to gain love with a cheque,
ticking all of the right boxes just to do it
And I heard one of them bought you shoes
with that fake Nike check,

So nowadays, you just give people that sour face,
pulled as a fool, that you choose to pull your face
And any sweet nothing, has a bitter taste in the end,
a misleading ***** intention, and you're now this
bitter ugly mess.

In lost times, look into the eyes of a tired heart.
Counting time is just a past time activity from part to part.
And flashing lights in the eyes of a sudden past,
Flash time headlines caught in the  pathways built to last.

Burning more fires to **** the atmosphere, my neighbor,
Chocking her airways just to smoke up a piece of pipe to get high enough as a favour.
Gas in the tank, topped it just to set fires to her children,
Killing the tree leaves with all my fires. Oh how much have I killed dem.

Killing season is just passing activities ,
Tearing the green ways just to be building more cities.

Depression, when they slashing the wildlife,
Slicing all their necks with broken pieces of a dark knife.
Add more wood to be burning fossil fuels, such a negativity
Killing our world just to satisfy you pleasures just became a positivity.

But still look into the eyes of a tired heart.

This be the few days of lost times,
Shielding your yourselves in the dark lies.

Why do you play the role of a side,
when our love could be the main event?
It always feels like I'm just making love next to you,
And we both know it's not right,
like a clandestine rendezvous with a *******.
Why do I shower you with gifts,
when you barely acknowledge my existence,
sharing my deepest secrets with you, only for them
to be your farewell gift?

I cleanse my vision,
trying to rid myself of your haunting image.
I'm not a swimmer, yet I found pleasure
in drowning in the depths of your thigh's, last night.

Steaming my spectacles;
the only way to capture your breath,
we shared a few smoky moments, and I noticed
your capacity for holding things in,
in those puffy cheeks of yours.
We ventured in and out of your home,
and weaving in and out of their sheets,
There was a lot we could've discussed after,
but nature always called you away.

I tend to prattle when I'm at ease,
you slept on my arm, muffling the torrent of my words,
my wit often coming to my rescue as something so handy.

Regrettably, we only truly connect at the peak of a ******,
and whether I decide if I enjoy the simplicity of that,
This melancholic sensation in my heart,
it's an entirely different climate.

Line marks on a face
probably their first good rest
Their events of yesterday;
she'd undress to address a situation
While he's given the address to her favourable location

"Where's the shame in a little pain,"
she had casually asked him
He seemed a little passive before his passion
"I prefer asking for consent," he told her, as he's old fashioned

"But I could imagine things I could do,
things I could never speak of; let alone speak to you
Not be rude— I'm sort of new to showing my other side
a beast inside, and my *** drive runs along a journey of being wild"

And just like a hoodie after ***,
she's worn out, anxious at the start, but now out of breath
"There's no need to pretend, in like those Nikes; I already checked
that you'd step out of your comfort zone, and just do it
At first I was a bit clueless; but that first hit was the first hint

...And if you ever feel shy to be yourself in public,
just show me yourself in secret
Your identity doesn't need to belong to the world,
you belong to me— your Mrs!

Good enough lips for old discussions; acoustic ears pulling
at the strings of all we get to hear; I wish you were still here
Turning the dial, that familiar sensual feeling on life’s radio;
you were just a stereo—two channels away from falling in love,
in a forgotten tune of something close to an old love

My slow breaths exhaling, to your many breaths
inhaling; swallowing words to a prayer; happily fasting
on every time it takes, to admit why you actually fell in love
Filtering most of the hate I once had for you, funnelled out
of my folded brain— paper notes of love letters I kept away
from my curious friends

Dreaming of falling in love; soaked tears in my eyes, during-
to just to recall it all, as a *******; as if I were falling
from mountain springs; cold to your very touch of another
winter’s rain. And in a single way, I kind of enjoyed being
single for just another day

Let me relate to guns,
somebody who took one for family
The bullet is adopted,
-a stray that killed a cousin
Gun powder that tastes like baby kisses,
to die tastefully, while she cries
But who am I to judge; I keep one in my pants,
some keep theirs inside, some on their side
I could use it to bring death in her eyes,
or bring in her, a reason to spawn life
This gun is a tool, and it's user a peacemaker
or just a weapon

                  I'm so attached to my gun.

to settle the lights of your very eyes,
would always feel light years away
still i know the end of that tunnel is so
bright,- in it's vacuum
******* out all of my words
out of my heart,

you've become a space in my eyes,
a galaxy in my sights
chasing a heaven in it's person, but
above all, I was just chasing my many highs

                        so i was much like the above title

A sober thought to a drunkard's plight,  
Is like an insomniac’s dream of sleep in the night.  
Love's sweet embrace,  
Is nothing to a bird in a cage,  
As a wing that just won't take flight.  

A mind split in two; would be so strange,  
That finds no spare sense to pay for change.  
All things must weigh,  
Even as the world turns away,  
To call you deranged, out of its range.  
Live as you are made- to live with no shame.

Honesty of this heart, I would not live to give my darling the whole world to have for it's not mine to own.
Or a million dollars for that doesn't fill my pockets, for I'm not a Puppet to money, neither it's pawn.
But I surely have something different in this very heart to give,
This that is the real me, not any of the lies I would tell you to deceive.

Cherished memories of us, on this old Spotify playlist;
my heart is overwhelmed with longing and lovesickness,
— a passion that seems to fall short in making me
any more patient.

I find myself completely consumed by that intoxicating
madness of an undesirable love; constantly lost into its
utmost and unforgiving potential;
...picturing me as your devoted psychopath, an
unyielding presence in the maze-like corridors of
a mind, and it's undetermined cycle path.
Ready to cycle back, and drown out a heart's love
in a cycle bath. Washing away your inner demon 's past;
while washing your back.

My heart is an eager match,  
striving to ignite a fiery blaze of affection,
and I caught your spark by your bright smile,
as I'd fight for this love when you and I are a match.

Then again...

I could have been crazy enough to imagine it all in my head.

“Goodbye,”
is a lengthier term than the simple “Hie,”
Yet the act of saying goodbye feels short-lived –
at least that’s my wish each time I must part
ways with you.
For in that brief moment of saying goodbye,
I always hold onto the hope that we’ll soon
exchange a cheerful “Hie” once more.

I can’t bear the thought of you leaving, because
I can already picture how this tale unfolds.
You’ll be off touring the world –
I’ll be the devoted fan, chasing you from one
destination to the very next.

Waiting in all of your memories, but you won’t
notice me at any of the bus stops along the way.
It seems we both have to find a way to let go.

What not to say, my tongue is twisted
with the knots under my breath
I unbutton your lace, to undress
my eyes; worn out and ******* by the day

There's multiplication in such an act,
and I'm so divided on where to start
Divisive thoughts, disagreeing with myself,
whether I act as a dog with only a bark
Or choose to be animal who tends to bite,
chasing tail, and pinning it on a donkey
-it's a game to someone wanting ***

But as I shouldn't say,
I want you call on me, and worship a name,
in the moans of the night
And your thankful glow, becomes the
morning' prayer
Would you still believe in me,
confine in me, in the confines of my arms
And tickle out all of the bullets out of my gun

Behind the shades,
I see the show upon the stage you've set
But once the show ends, behind that curtain,
is where the true showcase will begin

Stuck to your rear,
enjoying a ride- I'm a bumper sticker

Sorry I can't think of a better pickup line,
you should know I'm not so good at thinking straight
whenever you're around

Pardon my misdemeanor,
I've made a few crimes for love; a few wrongdoings,
but I promise when you're not around, I'm still thinking
out loud to keep you in my view

The stars fall, as angels dance in the skies;
spinning twines of time—around a turning world.
This turn of the Lord, is the Rapture to soon come,
dawn present as where the Son walks the earth again.
Earthquakes, and colliding planets. I witnessed all's
Judgement day.

As pieces of the sky were falling; oceans boiling until
dry. The sight of darkness spread across all the land, like a
blanket swallowing all. And by the trumpet call; I heard the
rustling of that scroll.

The echo praises of the Lord, each name listed to be called
one by one. The final judgement for all. It was a vivid dream
of the end of the world.

         And I wasn't afraid. But overjoyed to meet my Creator.

"Life is a gamble,"
a question that only I can answer.
It often leaves me behind,
a mere memory of a forgotten dream.

As the dawn breaks,
I can sense the impending fall.
We will all remember this moment through t
he melodies of a bird's song:
"You have reached your destination,
but what was it like where you came from?"
Once again, the lonely question lingers,
reminding me of all that I have lost.

The path of a man is a treacherous one.
Life has taught us that it is our own worst enemy.
I am aware of this truth, yet
I find solace in the stories of others.
You may see my face, but you will never truly
know the tales it holds.
Perhaps you have heard the echoes
of my heart, but they are but empty sounds.

In the faces I encounter, I see glimpses of myself.
It is not a humble sight to witness
the abundance of love that eludes me.
Doubt consumes me, making me question
if I would ever be so carefree.
These dull faces reflect the uncertainty
that resides within me.

Attachment,
Pull here and there, then lose control, often feeling like my mind is so absent.
It's really been too long since I sang a love song,
Was just that passing memory that's far too go.

Strings attached to me,
Still thinking hard about my own future. Trying so hard to be my own fortune teller just to see.
Set a new resolution for a new year begun,
Still fought many battles, still fighting them  right now. Why does it feel like I've already won.

Well honestly a changing had to come, sooner than later,
Cut through my own puppet strings  pulling me along to the grater.
Meet the new man you see in the mirror.  Don't blink on it  twice.
Daddy stay a little longer, I'm  feeling cold like a bucket of ice.

String attached, break your hold.
Someone rescue me. Look into the distance, a hero shinning amongst these shadows O'long and behold.

Old days be but gone. Surely what have I done to be a new.
Time in but a day feels so short but my desires of this last not so few.

If be this when I go shall I taste the last of my Love's lips
Perhaps get a taste of the brown bottle in a couple sips.

But really should I look back to what happiness I brought to I from living such a life.
Flip through the pages of memories. Surely I fear not of such. Even to the afterlife.

For the conclusion to such a story be ready to meet it's end
As sometimes as most I fear one day I may not wake from bed.

But be not this to bring an upside-down man even more down
For all such chaos find calm and serious amgonst all. Don't paint a face to play to a clown.

Don't try to do what could of been down before only for now. For what shall it be a shame.
Till end of Day will soon be to come. Do all of you as such only in the Holiness and Grace of He his Name.

Crying is beauty,
I'm shed into pieces with a head full of thorns
Exposed and torn,
tears of my heart bleed red like a Rose.

From the concrete,
paved in the ways of forefathers
A Rose in the cement. Unlike them, I'm not one belonging to the street.

My tears have shed,
hands blistered and red
I held a thorn in my empty palm,
hoping it still hurts
And as the Rose and I were bleeding,
we both realized our worth.

So we cried, watering down the Earth,
the same home we've known
The home that raised us from the dirt.

I cried for what felt like
forever. Till forever was long gone
But it wasn't a tear from my eyes,
I truly just lost a petal

Sigh.

For time has past me so many, many times,
Often I ask where did you go, barley knew you. Speeding passed me, due be your fines.
Yet I worry more often for a distant past and a future to be.
Yet not guaranteed to see my own tomorrow, so why not enjoy this very moment while we still young and free.

Young and free we all once were,
It's funny how when looking back at your past  always seems so far. All that we once were.
Miles and miles away our thinking takes us far away from living joyful in today.
So many moments wasted endlessly worrying about all the troubles that are and yet to be. Not enough time to fall on naked knees to pray.

But surely time where have you gone.
Would you not park peacefully by the corner of a life for a little while. Long before you are just long gone, just stay a little long.

Yet this should be a lesson to us all that the very time we live can be so short,
You may stay longer hours for the party, but time will already be home in bed. For neither shall it rest nor to spend itself in a resort.
Live it well in what's happening right now before it leaves many behind,
Never wake to another day with regrets of what could have been done many days before. Choose wisely for we all will have to decide.

On what shall each of us do next.

“Lightning doesn’t strike twice,” they say.

Yet, for the child who raises their glass jar to the sky,
Reaching for their dreams like capturing butterflies,
Doesn’t opportunity present itself once again?

Trapped in the labyrinth of my insecurities,
Longing within this spinning reverie,
Like the threads of time, I’ve lost my curiosity,
The first time, the sounds of joy would tickle my ears,
A passing breeze urging me ahead,
How can I ignore what can’t be ignored,
By seeking self-promotion and disregarding what lies in store?

A curious mind will inquire a second time.

Wisdom embraced me once,
In her nurturing embrace, countless times,
Though not her own, she taught me her truths,
Infusing them with a spiritual essence and whispering them with a kiss,
Her eyes painted the speech of a chosen few,
And with attentive ears, wide as the gates of a church,
She welcomed, studied, earnestly, devotedly, diligently.

On the veins of the altar,
She caressed herself within me,
Wisdom loving me a second time.

Life unfolds as a simple circle,
Round and round we all journey,
If there has been a first, a second time shall surely follow,
For if today we haven’t done it all,
Tomorrow offers us a chance, a second time to pursue.

As I lay my head upon your tender cheeks,
they become my comforting cushions,
cradling my mind as I drift into sleep.

The melodies of soothing lullabies
resonate deeply within my weary eyes,
carrying me into the promise of a new day.
In the intimate embrace between us,
a damp and intimate space, I find myself
irresistibly drawn to the alluring scent of your essence.

It beckons me, enticing me
to lose myself in the depths of your gaze,
to become completely consumed by the beauty
that lies within you.

As talk is always cheap,
even with the most expensive words
And I could never sum up enough of the
words, to tell you all of your worth.

                So sort of speak, let's just quietly cuddle.

In the darkest hour, I may rise at 3am,
Lost in a haze, sipping aimlessly,
Aiming another sip down my weary throat,
Yearning to silence a cough, to release my words,
As I ponder the creatures lurking in my mind's sea.

Within the depths of my thoughts, they swim,
Engaged in a fierce battle for breath,
Yet, I question why I label my courage a monster,
For it is I who has been the true beast all along.

In such a forced game of Tetris-
coming across those who block progress;
the hostility, in the sweats of labour mopped
up, by the heat escaping most of your pores

cupped lips, just for a little fill of a loving
kiss- the material of body language with a
string of words- long enough to reach the
****** of any conversation

Expression doesn’t exist much from a stranger’s
lips; lest you know their face with a sight of
good will. But I must be far short of the sun,
to give such a bright smile as a comforting
response- a single moon under its loon

of a man hiding away in these shadows

If people smelt your intentions,
can they know who sent you
Then again,
who really knows?

As is a play of words,
right on the tip of the nose.

Communication of commotion;
       bumping heads of opinions- so many worlds
in your eyes I see; stuck at a perception like a

Love at first sight; losing time in your hair,
       losing lips that speak love, by the heap of flesh
around your rib; a watchful gaze, as your
       perfect eye stalker:
Ripping pieces of your sky away
                   as a skyscraper
· · · · · ·kissing, as pestering flies
swatting away any ideas of
                              maybe falling in love

Fly across oceans, a domestic star- pet names
  that would offend a dog, we’re more
******* with each other; that the territory marked
               is just a dry bark- as we bite and chew
· · · · · ·each other out. Still, I’ll be as loyal as a dog
to find a means to cheer you up; crossbreeding
love and quiet hate, for the pedigree of us.
            
You will stay cherished, as my first love

Under a midnight sun; with the sounds of a substantial anthem. To those standing out, but not all can stand them—or understand them to easily brand them. It’s like a problem not to sneeze into DMs, and seeming allergic to women in the real. I have a couple mentions appearing up on reels.

Under a midnight sun; where it’s a mix of lightness and fun. Children’s tyre swings, and wearing an attire that never changes in its satire. As we all walk a thin wire of what it takes to inspire. So domesticated in a dogma, of where the bark is the only reference to a bite. Drinking the pleasures of flesh out of spite—all the thirsty people sip sprite, and come out tonight.

Under a midnight sun; ****** by a pistol of holders using that ***** gun. Let’s all have a blast in the past, to aim at old prospects hoping that they’d last. Smoking propane for a quick gas; passing comments behind people’s backs to seem like an ***. And woes to those who think of how to smash and pass.

Under a midnight sun; at a time where I need to see in the light His love. To share it with those that seem so easy to un-love. To treat as such, but I must treat them as being more than enough. To see their story through the scars, of they value being above the stars. We’ve all come from afar!

Under a midnight sun; as a song of the dawn. Sing as loudly throughout the moments dark. Sing as proudly as what lives in you is the Son.

I've known love,
been given so much hate
But I can't judge
because it's never my place.

Who's the worst
besides me on the worst day
I may curse,
I swear when things don't go my way.
I'm so proud,  
so hard to confess my downplay
Seem so loud,
when I feel I'm about to frustrate.

I've been high,
right onto of all my pride
I act blind,
when things of mine don't seem so right
And why I rhyme
is because there's rhythm on my mind.

I've made mistakes
more than what else I make,
At the end of day
those actions make me break.
But I'm much human,
my flaws aren't my choosing,
Knowing cutting and bruising,
not my life's conclusion.

Never forget,
we're all but just human.

Don't be lost for love,
if you can't read any of the signs
Love is blind,
but we aren't blind to decide.
We may fall in love with our hearts,
but we need to remember our minds.

Perhaps love is a matter of body, heart, soul and mind.

Leaf.

The ground you've now touched.
I hold you now, hoping your fall from grace never felt so rushed.

Green of your skin, till a couple days it becomes brown to be then part of the air,
Fly away though, to wherever winds of Earth shall take you. Hopes of love you find out there.
Days pass endlessly as you've fallen away from your tall Mother.
Surely she misses you but knows you time to be gone is now. So a farewell to you and your older brother.

Be free as you choose to be, while I stare out a window sometimes wishing to be like you.
My heart may long and sorrow  for a couple days, yet it seeing you to your freedom will change its blue.


Fly away dear leaf. Fly away.

—this a dreaming past
a touch from God, glimmer of hope
in terms of giving someone else their
turn. let live what you earned, never
dessert what you deserve

serve up the sweet course of your worth
but do not let it be spoiled by any who
cannot see it for what it is

Particularly in such a place I'm way too loud.
Out of state, out of mind, still stuck on a cloud.

Shortest of time hear a discord in my voice and Dance
The crowd in such a party eyes look so dead and blank, without much of chance.

The five drinks are all but tasting bitter and near to my end
Trying to keep a lot down but truth be told that would make me sleep in my own ***** on a lonely bed.

The stench of disgust of drunk
words covers the air
The shots were too dry and ashy.  Alas left my throat bare.

And the party felt cold enough to mistaken my heart to be dead
The drinks were too many. All I remember from such a night is all but  Red.

This discord in the corner of such a party is all but sour
As the last few seconds of this night is fading hour by hour.

And of course,
it's not actually real.
But why must the sweetest of things
only be in our dreams?

To see of life
through looking glass
Seems to show all it's cracks
Fragile,
is man on heavy words
Sinners of course,
a forefather's forced labour of sin into birth.

Still as precious gold,
time is of worth
Treasured memories
of course remain in our hearts.
Lifes not perfect,
but could be close to it with just a smile.

Roaches in the back of the toilet seat; a ****** life where every light is like a movie, but all they do is flick.
Not knowing how to shut your eyes away from the pain, so all you can do is blink,—While trying to get over all of your exes, but you always have to over think.
Posing for a Christmas picture, with a smile you only wear for certain people that season. While time bites away at all of your dreams, and death feels like a compliment when she's offering you her kisses.

Hiding all of your savings under a mattress, just so the rest of the world don't know what you have,—when you can't really bank on a bank, just to have a small account, accounting on all of the times you actually felt glad.
Dealing with your insecurities while trying to secure another dollar, living on the wisdom of a father, reading on His word
asking for the answers on how to make a honest dollar.
Tithing ties, just not choke up on your poverty, asking whether there's a better life for you in the future, "Lord there has to be"
Instilled with the fear of God, but you'd fear staying still, when rent is due, and you're twenty dollars short to fit the bill.
Trying to make a mountain out of your own weight, but you barely ate, praying for miracles but you forgot to pray for patience,— so you're feeling desperate while trying to wait. Praying for God's grace, more times you say your grace,
while everything else starts to look like *******, but you have
to stay thankful, so there's nothing to waste.

But I don't pray for guidance towards the next day,
I just pray tomorrow will always be a better day.

Child of my beloved, O'child of Mine,
we are yet to meet.
I ask of you to take to my lessons I've left behind.

The world tries you to serve revenge on a cold dish
But how do so by our warm hearts flamed by Love and Mercy.
For I tell you to show mercy by your hands as did mine. Revenge should be in complete absence of such an action, only rather choosing to make peace.

For beloved child of I,
never show care for someone only after they die.
For Death preys on us all, but shouldn't aim to feast upon our love,
For caring for someone is harder when they're all but gone to the Heavens above.

Yet let not your heart starve for desires of this world.
For I tell you that they'll surely fail you in the future when Death calls your body to the Earth. And these things you desire won't always be yours to hold.

This world surely pulls strings, but never play it's puppets.
And Love is not to be played out, for frog legs and pork chops don't go together. So don't play by strings, nor play Love like Muppets.

The heart of Man sometimes plays differently to face,
For we are to our own faults the best liars to self. But never let the in's and out's of you move differently in pace.

Child of my beloved, O'child of Mine.
Be as you, take to these lessons to teach your young. Never leave my wise words behind.
Let your eyes seek to be locked upon wisdom, lest to afford you living this life blind.