I've never known how to romanticize,
so I just fantasize about you. In my dreams rules
a Queen~ she's decreed a picture into my eyes.
How your skin shines in the night; must be inner
beauty bright as your smile.

But how to put it all in words—like finding new
chords to a training song. I wonder if nowhere does
exist, and how far close to the edge are we close to
our love's end?

A descent into my descending thoughts;
downwards of all my hanging lows. Do bare with me
for being unlike those bare essentials...like yours.

I learnt to you love you quickly, soon after
cherishing you as a friend. With care, and trust
—in a world where the two are so rare.
I considered myself always there, as much I could.
Amongst dreadful woes, as an ear to your cries,
plunging into the seas of deep meaningful conversation.
I wiped those eyes, and comforted you in truth,
over the many lies.

I'd climb your mind, to measure distance of the sky
to prove your worth in timeless imaginings.
Let me remind you time and time again, constantly
—that you're a marvellous creation. I couldn't be your love,
but here I'll rest my loving affections as your family.

Shooting my shoot for target practice;
hoping not to miss trying to find a Miss
And in a distance, it feels as if my mind
for searching for love,  is quite so distant

Distilling my thoughts from the mix of
anxiety, impatience, insecurity, rage and all yesterdays

As for today,
marks the date of an anniversary of my very last date
And I can't say it went so great, but it was good
to know it happened in the first place

In the words of, "nice guys finish last"
it was impressive of a nice guy to make
a dying relationship consistent, and making it last
Though I had to mix it a little bit with some lust;
and to be presently distilling that brain
with memories of ***** thoughts, messing up my head

And I'll think ahead to seem a little more ahead,
maybe fall in love with a person as a friend
But still as friends; we seem not to how to express
our hidden emotions when we dim ourselves as "just friends"

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.

Screen testing, screen testing – I start my days wondering how I’m
supposed to play the role to my life. I have a TV screen for my past,
to better watch my back. Most days I’m too caught up on channelling
my fears, for whatever reward I believe – they'll never pay me back;
they're just all looking for payback.

My overthinking sometimes, works overtime – trying to be a good
figure; putting words into action, to be an action figure. How would
you figure, that out of the bunch of men, you could stand out of the
rest?

And wouldn’t it be funny if the woman of my dreams told me, "you
need to rest" – only taking her advice, if she's the better dream out of
the rest.

For not all men can swallow their pride; others survived gallons –
but in short, a man would do it for the right gal. You tell him, "you'll
never get that girl," his pride starts to see a challenge. A greater pride,
chases tale to make it a talent – that man seems challenged!

Every day is a just balance of challenge – wealth we scavenge, our
dreams live as memory stores; we store up what we value the most.
We look at tomorrow for what's in store; born out of love just for most
of us to go and create war.

Speaking highly of yourself, often speaking down on someone else–
speaking life into a child's life, speaking ill on them when you grow
so sick of them. In the end, we are just words.

Changing colours on how I feel,
my heart does it often. Don't even know what's real.
Coming into one feeling so symmetrical,
O' a kaleidoscope.

Remember the very first time, really wasn't by the best time,
lying to myself that I'm just fine,
think about it now that's just a cliché line, cause I'm just lying.

Still not the same when I write this, when it's all past I'll probably wish I never wrote this.
So many of these colours, I'm just going through the motions,
Mirrors in my heart somehow really help me to focus,
See myself clearly and never say that I'm worthless,
Though the Thoughts at the tip of my mind,  low-key  feel pointless.

But I'll need change, as I readjust my mirrors for a clear range,

Not in an empty space.
Cause hiding in my empty closet space isn't a filling place.
But I'll lock that door, really just in case.

In my Kaleidoscope, a pretty design if you really look close,
holding a lot of colours, within each piece of all worth.
Cause really I'm a kaleidoscope

Blinds descend upon the windows of my soul,
protecting my thoughts that are delicate as glass
Behind me, beyond myself – I gazed beyond
My façade.

I ventured past the exterior— the interior,
yearning to be recognized as a blossom,
and not merely as a
Stubborn ****.

Would someone kiss me, and not make believe –
to make me believe, that their touch won’t
Last me that long.

I’ve known a version of myself
one that’s been way too sad
For long.

To what end,
do we keep
Looking for hope
In empty songs?

"Singing to myself"

There's a quiet night of crickets,
echoing in the applauds of the handover of sun to moon
A mystic smell of dew, and a due of rest,
I've locked my eyes into a dream, listening to the
ticking wood of an old kitchen door,
It slowly creaks open, and closes rust on their iron hinges
as I'm hinged in thoughts; attached by my many fears,
and the darkness forms a latch,

               -And it's night becomes it's key
                 that unlocks my inner demons poetry

We're living in a city where the sun don't sing,
We know it probably rings.
And we don't see the flashy lights inside the bling,
Which makes it easy enough for us to sing.

We don't take the time to waste the times of others,
We didn't grow up close to everyone we knew like brothers.
We were just the kids growing away from being just like our fathers.

But we're hiding our fears, secretly being like cowards,
We picked and threw our women around just like flowers.
We acted dark in our hearts towards any other brighter colours.

We're the kids of the block,
Hanging around the lost.
We don't search for Love for love doesn't search for us.
We don't know her name, we don't live for her shame,
But we're both the reasons for this pain.
We refuse to take the blame.

So we're living in a city where the sun don't sing, but the moon sings it's chorus,
We worth up the richness of our heart's, but live like the poorest.
We don't have the words for all the songs we sing.
So we'll just borrow your chorus.

We are the Kids.

As my father likes to say,
"same ****, but a different toilet"
With kids at the age to loiter. Sitting on all their
dreams, that they feel discomfort. There's a taste of
***** in the words mixed with a little chronic.
In between the lines of sort of psychotic, and iconic;
scornful eyes of adults who think we're quite ironic.

Broke ties, with the broke kids with empty pockets,
filled with their dreams; to then having a blast with
older girls—launching your pocket rocket. Three, two,
one, is count down of when someone is coming.
To yearn for love we never got from adults, as we're
always longing. Always copying, the styles of the famous
to seem relevant in the topic. While getting high in between
classes, and pretending that feeling is so awesome.

Some skinny jeans to fit in with the masses, rip it up a
bit to be the latest in the fashion. Snap your life away,
and add a little cute caption. Looking for a bit of romance,
but my favourite genre is a little action. A little traction in
between us, until I'm tired of smashing and passing.
Falling in love—as casual. To question my worth, while
buying things more valuable. Things of the world so intangible.

Searching for answers on the wall, writing out our wishes so
you can relate to them all. Dreaming of being stars; but every
star eventually will fall. Help me, help me please, do you here
me at all?

Would you kindly be a help to your young?
I'm dying quietly in the loudest of fun.

Empty in African terms,
is a "coca cola glass bottle."
Strange to some,
but never strange to us.
I grew up as a child,
riding long journeys in something called a "chicken bus."

I knew about robots,
far before TV screens would show it.
But in African terms,
those robots are just traffic lights.

Green to go,
red to stop.
Amber the colour of chance in between,
and only a few would get what I mean.

I grew up speaking our common slang,
calling things a lot, by using the words "a span"
Making jokes with friends,
calling each other bra, calling another a *****.
"The rents",
meant I was referring to mom and dad of the family.

It's a wonder how I didn't fail English,
with all the made-up words we said.

Playing games in the mud,
by 5 o'clock refusing to bath.
As kids we didn't know much;
or anything close to real love.
The silly games we played on the street was all but enough.

Thinking of it back now,
the scars on my legs tell many a story.
And when I have children of my own, the memories I had,
I hope becomes apart of their African legacy.

Kids under the African sun,
how the simple times of life are long gone.

A few places of my thoughts remain hidden, their
shadows I dare not reveal, for there are moments
I wish to evade.

A prisoner of my own overthinking mind,
I dissect every word you utter by day; to become
a relentless ritual of overthinking that silently haunts
my nights.

Life isn’t about ending it all, it isn't a suicide, still
we do so much to **** our minds — lost in the endless
scroll of our screens, just to **** time - a daily genocide.

Still in the depths of your own being, do you
sometimes feel the weight of your own existence?
I hope you’re not gazing into the mirror, only to find
disappointment staring back—an executioner of your
self-wort; a homicide - that slow and silent ****** of
your confidence.

King of the century, well just for this moment of time,
Let me decree this, let me decree that, I want everything in this world to be mine.
Royalty in my blood, just can't find your origin or place,
Searching for my Queen, where are you my darling, where's your beautiful face.
Where's my castle with all my golden bricks,
Probably all behind my mind with capital tricks.

Where's my golden cup with wine from an older age,
Tasting much like time itself with no definite range.
Where are all my people to hear my voice,
Don't listen to a earthly King's ******* even if he hasn't given you the choice.
Where are all my Knights and Royal guards defending my keep,
Where's my land with my cattle and sheep, and my river with waters so deep?

King of an empty world with mass to fill my mind,
King of a land that never existed and so hard to find.
But I'm the King of the  moment when time can be my own,
Holding time itself all till it disappears at Dawn....
King, King, King, let me enjoy it now when it's all still here,
Because I will awaken once more to another day, so my dream I had with the worth of myrrh .
Could make me King, King, King of my own land,
With all I would have and have not and finally the things I never planned....

Wipe my eyes, melting away the wax
of unrighteousness; to see into your grace,
and all it’s wisdom.

I’ve been blinded,— to not see the value of my
worth. In dusty mirrors, only seeing the worst.
A slave, a sinner, and being so undeserving of
your love.

Oh Father,—

Boys will be boys, but not rarely are the
men baptised in wisdom. Washed of their
former selves.

Spirit filled,— isn’t of the religious talk your lips
could exclaim. But of what really resides inside;
of you and your relationship with God, alone.

Voices are many, only in the quietest moments
of heading into sin. But it’s but a whisper of what
true righteousness speaks of.

Know that it is Him,— the King of kings,
Lord of all, as Jesus is and remains the one
true King.

Sugar tips, ain't your heart sweet enough.
Biting and bruising in between sheets, no need to be playing it rough.

Your words are of unspoke,
Gripping on your breath I stole from your lips. The essence of your throat.

Kiss as long as we may,
Stealing the words from your mouth you wish to say.

Between foreign lips to my tongue,
I pray not for your bite back doing my own lip harm.

At the ease of embrace,
Pulling closer to feel textures of her beauty's face.

Lips comimg close to be of one,
Tasting of your taste in my mouth, before reaching your tongue.

We fell into a kiss.

Never kiss and tell our love,
for all we know, our friends would want some.

We should only realize,
our love shouldn't be televised.
So keep it close, right between our eyes.
We both act shy, but that's alright.
Despite what shows outside, things are more important inside.

So let's not play kiss and tell.

Love, a complex and ever-evolving force,
can be likened to the shedding of skin
with each passing season, rejuvenating the
spirits of the old to make room for the embrace
of new beginnings.

The ebb and flow of
relationships echo this continual metamorphosis,
as some individuals offer solace through
gentle caresses that blend seamlessly like a
poetic kiss, while others wield their words
with a sharper edge, concealing deceit beneath
the guise of intimacy.

Just as the gentle whisper
of a kiss may be heard, so too can the sinister hiss
of untruths slither beneath the surface,
reminiscent of a serpent's deceitful ways.

Closed eyes,
embracing you in the shadows,

The clock's chime igniting a flame
within me – resolutions!

No resolve in that fleeting moment
kissing into the new year; our midnight
kiss.

Baby, your too good for me, can't you hear me crying, hear this man is crying,
Thinking I'm never too good for you, baby you know I'm not lying, no hint of lying.
And I'm dreaming so much of that body, how I need that body,
Getting lost in those thoughts, feeling naughty, so very naughty.

But you know I would instantly call this feeling you give some crazy voodoo magic ,some love potion magic,
But I really don't care, because I can't lose you, that would be tragic, so very tragic.
And my head is spinning all around, can hardly stand-up straight, failing just to stand-up straight,
But just know I want every inch of you, every piece and taste, a full plate, I just want the full plate.

May I love you now when I have all time, holding this very time,
Can I have you by my side, right by me are you mine, surely are you mine?
Knowing in my heart I'm so scared to lose a piece of you, just a piece you,
My heart would break, shattered into a thousand pieces, and I would be feeling blue, so very blue.

But the lord knows I'm a poet in love, so much in love,
Using my words on paper to compensate for the words in my mouth I've lost, flying away from me like a beautiful dove, such a beautiful dove.
And that beauty falls on you too, your so beautiful too,
Could get lost in that in that beauty, too late I'm far too gone staring at you, I was staring right at you.
Someone come rescue me she stole my heart, now where is my heart,
She has it now, please darling keep it safe, it's beats for you, that is it part, my heart's true part.

And my darling and baby I surely love you so, I love you so,
So when we see each
other once again, my love will be so much stronger, and I hope you know, darling all you need is to know.

_

My skins are woven in verses; this lyrical matter
I may not blend in everywhere; but it doesn’t matter
Don’t anticipate a fragrance of always being blessed,
I’m not exactly a gift from the skies, or a heaven sent.
  
Even if I’m used, don’t brand me as useless,
just use me less. And if I appear distant from love,
don’t label me heartless, I’m just choosing to use
my heart less…

Constructing barriers along the streets of life
even though I doubt foundations as concrete,
Coming in to complete a sheet of my worth -
still finding the chords; I seem so incomplete.

What are my labels:
lost, confused, hopeless, & odd
But correctly said, "these labels aren't all
I'll be - still I be, yond a star, a beauty nestled
within the clouds, to know I must always look,

Beyond!

Lack sleep like the many things in my life
I think forward during the night that I'm already thinking about a wife
I cut my insides with thoughts of sharp  through the blades of my mind's knife.

Sleep, Sleep, Sleep,
where you be.
Barely tried to know as you left before the sun's wake
As you were the one who loves to dessert me
Morning breakfast of sunlight makes me realize that real sun rays plays to being fake.

Why do I prey on myself robbing away my own sleep
Falling down into a pit of my thoughts and troubles of deep.

In the days I crawl out from my eyes to reach for my sleep.

Lacking upon a thousand hours of rest
The morning noises quickly rises up. Telling myself "Get up, get yourself dressed"

What did you expect,
For sleep to be but a friend
When it takes joy in leaving you  depressed
When shall it end?

But I still think I sleep for way too Long
Given at chance I could sleep to an awaiting dawn
Yet as I wake I don't get up feeling rested and strong.

I lack the sleep
something I won't fear to admit
But just try to reach for me inside of this pit.
Help me overcome this load of lack sleep.

The moon keeps my secrets in a glass jar
In the silence taking over my hurt as it's scar.

Where the words of my lips fall prey to the silence, let their taste be my expression.
Like the rowdy kids of the block, doing more trouble and less learning their lesson.

I'd like to think of myself as so on many off days.

So call security for my heart's front gate. I feel the Devil peeping in.
What's he searching for at the corners of my love. I feel the evil sinking in.

A strange to say I've been here before but I'd hate to repeat myself.

A device to say like my phone's constant beeping at early hours,
Rewarding my heart for good deeds but men don't do pretty flowers

In the wakeness of new dawn, I still wish to be fast asleep
And perhaps I've strayed from the flock like the poor lost sheep.

For Love as my only defense across the broken wall,
Hitting rock bottom before I made the fall.

At a corner of regret and hopes,  I'm stuck at crossroads
Figuring the tune of the song with lost chords.

La di di da to a same old song.
Who really knows the words that well to be singing along.

I was never blessed with a sporting gene,
always lagging behind in any physical activity.
As people used to say that I had a tendency
to run away from responsibilities,
as if my lack of athletic prowess was
somehow indicative of my character.

I never had a knack for understanding
mechanical things either, always struggling
to grasp the intricacies of how things worked.
So please bear with me, as I continue to work
on improving myself in this regard.

Communication has never been my strong suit either.
I never raised my voice enough to be heard,
often fading into the background
and finding solace in the silence.
It's in those moments of complete stillness
that I feel most at ease, away from the chaos of the world.

And then there's the topic of intimate conversations.
I never quite grasped the art of discussing
the more adventurous aspects of relationships.
It's not that I'm prudish or judgmental,
it's just that I never received the proper guidance
or education on the matter.
So, it's no wonder that I struggle to engage
in discussions about the more unconventional
aspects of intimacy.

And whenever I was called to the table,
I was labeled as the spoiled favorite.
However, as the youngest in the family,
I have grown accustomed to living off the scraps
left behind by my older siblings.

There's opportunity in the life
of eternity.
Moments passing with memories
that stay.
Stolen from us like a last kiss,
lovers do miss each other as they
miss each other's lips.

There was something or someone you
once loved.
They where lost with you in the moment,
now they've left you alone to feel torment.

Given it was the last time,
the last time you said "you were mine"

Could you then be wrong,
wanting more than much.
Selfish in the ways wanting this so much,
for you truly loved something as such.

You call the love for it "beauty"

Now beauty is just a stolen kiss you still
haven't gotten enough of.
Either way,
it was the little you got that let you appreciate that love.

So I ask,
this last kiss from that you loved
Did you make it beautiful, more than yesterday,
had it imprinted and had
your heart carved and scarred.

Tucking away your joy;
caving in a hiding hole- pulling skin over
your head: Uncircumcised
Uncut grass, to the disguise of your hedges
you so desperately try to hide; despising such
a sight, to the heir of your generation’s likeness
of still fighting to feel alive

You won’t come outside;
you won’t live under the stars, to at least
stay a night- your commodity spent over what
you long for: Perfect body, a faithful soul

“Why are they laughing?”
no, that’s your insecurities making you
laugh out aloud, at yourself

The sun and moon once cried together,
making a beautiful light.
Amongst the stars and a spaceship
of the last solar flight.

Tears of the sun
are the rays we feel on Earth.
The sun cries for the moon's embrace,
love and her worth.

Miles away from each other,
their sights only by rotation.
One day my love,
we'll once again embrace each other.
No matter the distance, cause or duration.

This may be like one last solar flight,
but despite what the world may see,
I'll never lose you out of my sight.

my fingers, desperately tracing – tear through the fabric of my sheets;
in my dreams people recite such beautiful poems... oh, how I wish I
could have written them all down. i fought myself in a dream battling
my own spirit to awaken, but all I was able to write down was...

                                                         ­  silence!

now, I yearn to return to that ephemeral instant, riding the rails of my
mind – a train of thought; aboard a back train seeking the lost echoes
of my backed-up thoughts.

                                        that last train to find a another poem!

9:15; a quarter mile away from truth.
Conversations are boring, all about what we've done for today.
Innocence of two kids before their moppet words find their youth.

Texts get a little deeper, a minute past ten.
All past experiences, and mistakes are; with heart and soul
expressed. Their companionship sees the other more than a friend.
"I like you," a quickly deleted message, but has been read.
Emoji eyes; "I seen what you wanted unseen," the eyes seemingly said.

Awkward silence, awkward silence; both sides typing and clearing
their response. Nobody presses send; while there's a slap on the
head exclaiming; "not like this, not the beginning of this
relationship's end"

"I didn't mean to make things weird with my emotions.
I'd like you as a lover, but I love how we are as friends in the
open," a brave text sent out of one still hoping.

"But I like you too," the next reply came around late.
Phew! What a relief; least for now. But what happens next,
I guess is the pending question of staying up this late.

It was best to go to bed by eight...

Rooibos
—late night thoughts
in a cupful, to the tee caught in the awe,
or in the ways the hot beverage tickles the
tongue floor

     ....one sip leads to more and more

Cut the Music, let the Nights play –
Resting my mind in the tune of Your sweet voice
Cushions and songs; the city lights Purr
Always so Curious about what happens in its
Streets – like a cat at any twitching thing
          
As I searched for the key to all her lost dreams;
Tears in their place, those Girls lost in city streets
The Room was messy, a light bulb barely flickered
In the dark nobody sees your tears, Your forced smiles
Yet, we always know that silhouette touch of a body

Sadly, curiosity seduced Me; loneliness consumed Me
Gentle perfume pulled me inside, to Sweetened eyes
My cold heart was Searching, that it sank in warm music
Under the Canopy shade of covered sheets, vowing never
To leave –

those late texts
till my phone dies,
laughing by the corner
as i try not to,
  make a sound.
and spending late calls
on limited wi-fi.

Even on this long road of thoughts; some days I don’t know my way
with words – as to describe your face; it just drives me so insane.
“You’re so pretty,” feels a bit too plain; so it always bears down on
me, this pressure. A rock in a hard place, and I’m also being pressed
with stones, biting on my words, that I bruised my lip. Slowly sinking
deeper, and letting blood flow – being so afraid of your reflection of
me, staring back from your eyes, as my tears dance along a running
stream. How you’ve become this silhouette of a perfect dream.

But I'm not as deep as I seem to be; just like swimming in a pool, I
first need to find my feet. And I’m only a pebble against your skin;
trying to skip across our conversations, and finding a reason to kiss.
But instead, I'm laughing in the bathroom mirror, letting the echoes
of that room wash me clean. And it would seem in vain to say I
fell in love with you – even as I wear your smile under my skin.

So I quietly let those very six words find their rest, and go back to
my bed, and sleep – cause who the hell really feels the depth of
those words, over a late-night text?

Never too wise to stay up late, with the opposite friend.

The frequency of a kiss, is the rate
Of us both having a matching heartbeat
Rising vibrations; as my eyes start to feel
Baked; staring too long at the heat of your face

Catching smoke, in the fire of your lips,
Smokers count the puffs out of their vape;
Tears turn into vapour; vapours slowly
Become the ashes, slowly turning into waste

Maybe we're just wasting time, as we love
To just be sitting quietly, in this comfy place
Still, this feeling here, will always feel so great.
And lately I've been staying up way too late —
But did I at least tell you that I love you; if not
I'm so, so sorry, I know now, I was a bit too late!

Cos I don't really party that much; always
Taking my time to adjust to any new touch —

Cos you gave me a touch of a new Love.

Airing out ***** laundry,
is in turn, walking on a thin line —  

The very line where those garments dangle;
but let a gentle breeze stir up, and suddenly,
That foul scent rushes back to you, and starts
to assault your nose,

Catching you off guard, and before
you know it!

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.

Mix a bit of dye inside your tired tears- perhaps you want
to dye that colour of the ugly world you see; doesn’t fear grip
my hands, their surfaces fragrant with the scent of decaying leaves;
Shape me into the very skins trampled beneath an indifferent
pair of feet  

If only I could be a speck of dust—  
oh, that fleeting taste of recognition; to possess a name
held in high esteem—suffering. Or perhaps it’s merely a mark,
like a hidden dialect I whisper to myself when no one is around.  

I exist like the foliage of a tree, leaves drifting around us,
crushed and scattered; observing them through the window.  
But who, in truth, is observing us?

It seems my emotions must find their rest,
Yet slumber eludes me-, a constant test.
As torment resides, reflected in my gaze,
Slowly turning to ashes-, tomorrow's haze.

Once, I was lost in dreams, in a forest so grand,
But now my skin feels naught, scorched by the land.
As the same scorching heat, consuming the trees,
Leaving me numb, devoid of all pleas.

As reality peels off my eyes, like a fleeting tattoo,
Where nothing feels real-, a transient view.
Mirrors shattered, in a mind of fragile glass,
A fractured reflection, and a mask that won't last.

Sorrowful tears, with impure intent,
Washing away all, as they're freely spent.
Like water beneath my sink, dripping away,
Taking with it all, in a sorrowful sway.

Vultures I rely on, hoping to evade,
Becoming their prey, in this world's cruel charade.
For it's easy to be devoured, my dear,
In this unforgiving world, where shadows leer.

Family will disappoint you when you least expect it,
money will often fail you, slipping through your fingers
just when you need it the most.

Successes, no matter how plentiful, will inevitably run dry,  
time, a merciless force, will never be on your side, slipping
away faster than you can grasp it.

However, your dreams will stand as an unwavering companion,
that greets you each morning and accompanys you as you sleep.

And even in death, your dreams will continue to live on
in the hearts and minds of others, becoming a part of your legacy.
—a lasting testament to your indomitable spirit and
the mark you have left behind.

People crawl under skins,
calling you vain
Picking at thoughts,
to call one picky
Act to turn the other cheek,
to call another cheeky.

Life with complicated people,
much complicated ourselves
In over our heads,
won't get over ourselves.

Another day gone,
but days aren't lost for us
The best of mankind,
means to keep on looking
Wishing for it on make believe
genies, will only rub off
Nothing is above down
to earth people
Living on solid ground for growth.

If we've forgotten
how to grow,
What fruit of us will it show?

Descendants falling hungry,
of knowledge not taught
We're responsible for legacies better
than ones of us in the past.

Taste that stings lips'
Sweetest to tongue;
Refreshes my thirst:

A bite of love;
As a fruit of worth'

Bright yellow smile'
Bright red lips;
And a body wave flow.

                She's not my world'
                But she's my girl;
                Made of-
                Lemon Cherry Water.

Swimming in pink, oh the blush of tears — as you tear me away
from my original nesting; a petal ripped away from their mother
flower. Watch closely as I fall to the ground, unloved- as you
softly murmur your melody of, “he loves me, he loves me not”

Sweetheart, it’s painfully clear that your heart holds no
affection for me whatsoever. You love to let me down.

You see, I’m naturally an introvert — quiet corners, deep
thoughts, the type to overthink a handshake. But life? Life
keeps putting me on stages, in conversations that feel like
marathons for my soul. So yeah, stepping out as an extrovert?
That’s not performance, that’s survival. A daily challenge
with no dress rehearsal.

I’m a softie — but not the breakable kind. No, this softness?
It’s pressure-cooked from hard times. It knows the weight of
silence, and how to turn pain into patience. I’m not here to
pretend to be hard — I’m here to show that being real is rarer.

Now, let’s talk love. I’m a full-blown lover boy — heart open,
arms wide, playlist ready. But don’t get it twisted — I’m not in
the business of having my love used as someone else’s stepping
stone. I’ve retired from being the emotional charity.

And my smile? Oh, it’s got layers. A whole palette of moods.
Bright for the world, but the darker shades? Those are reserved.
A private gallery. Only for the ones I cherish, the ones who earn
the right to see me unfiltered.

So if you meet me — don’t just notice the calm, or the kindness,
or the charm. Know there’s a storm I’ve already walked through
to be standing this still.

This pen is feeling heavy;
Writing out this weighing letter.

Writing my lyrics to the Heavens;
wondering if they'll get the message.
I won't waste on pretending. It feels
Like you've blocked the entrance.
Often you seem to forget us, as the
Devil is always out to get us.

Given a shorthand,
As it feels little for change.
And it's so sad, what you have left
Is out for game. As we're out for
Gain, straight after we call your name.

My off thoughts, in odds of
Dreaming, screaming in my head;
While battling it's demons. Deep
Thoughts, and their sunken eyes
Inside my hollow pit in my skull.
Trying my best to seem calm, stuck
In the depth of my head, as I won't try
To pretend. In it's dark abyss, a rose
Inside a grave feels more like a
                                Pretty death.

Chest beating, my emotions themselves
Could be bleeding, or leaking.
On this paper I pen wrinkles,
And leave so many stains.

I'm a tyre swing, tired of it.
Rolling over to a newest trend;
Spinning in the wheel of life, going
Round in it's constant circles, as
Everything in it tries to hurt us.

Could you point me out to a purpose.
Showing interest in my life. Truly
You could make a prophet. And let's,
Word out our blessings, instead of
Counting our losses.

I do hope you get this message.

Sincerely signed;

A child down on Earth,
Looking up to Heaven.

To my future wife...

How the present is the many moments, you and
I in our youth will cherish. But perhaps it's the future's
investment, we find so precious.

You and I haven't met, and we're all looking for
a lover of next. But why do you expect so much
from love, of that which we don't have? The tenderness
many will share to another; but what of us to tend
our own land. Do you understand; that all you
long to give, isn't as easy if it's not something you've once
received. How we live, are from lessons we've been taught
at birth, and kept to heart.

I wasn't taught how to truly love. As Love wasn't all I got.

I went out for the discovery of it, as a teen being lost. I've made
many mistakes, some that have given my character shape.
But often past mistakes, brings the present's shame.

As a lizard sheds their skins; I shed my skins of discomfort.
Vulnerable, and bare to the times I've almost lost it. (That being my love)
Beauty soon fades as with age. Some nights; the love
I give may not feel the same as yesterday's.

And I'm not one to often change; but I rather try and make it.
But why would I believe I can change one's self in the choice of
being in love with them.

"Oh I can change him/her,"
the phrase being said more than enough.

But this first letter points out the views of me, into the
views of you. And as I wrote this, the picture view of us,
being as one from two.

Sincerely;

Your future husband.