Dear darling.

I'm staring at the sun, with the light
in between your eyes; and this feeling inside
of your bright smile. Summer kisses, caught inside of
it's denial. And the filled cases of your love; trying not to
lose this trial.

It's those lips that shapes that smile; those last skins giving
depth to those thighs. And writing about you; that helps
me with these rhymes. I'm in the directions towards love;
I'll meet you by all of the signs. I'm found; but it's a new love
I still need to find.

So by the end of this short letter line,
my penned down emotions are red signed.

Sighed,

A red love you and I will find.

Dearest Moms,

Here's to the day for All our Mothers out there, to be Spoiled and drowned in Love.
Let's take a moment to appreciate the fact You were created by that Man up above.
Here's to all the Chefs of our homes, always filling up our Tummy.
When the dark scares us at night, we instinctively called out Mommy.

To the ones who brought us to see this Beautiful World,
And though sometimes we find it hard to show our love, for sometimes our Love for You is so Untold

But despite all that, we Love you All.
Thank you for just your mere Existence, for a Mother's love is just so Tall.

So to this Mother's Day, dearest Moms, enjoy all the Spoils and Love.
Thank you dearly for holding us tightly with your Love and Care  wrapped around on us like a Velvet Glove.  

We Love You All ..

Love for breakfast,
filling a cereal bowl of-
      confessions

Milk of her tears,
sugar piles of his affairs.
Biting into the Apple of:
  someone else's love

"Do you love me now,
and her later,"

She begged the question,
after she found texts of-
    a lover's liaison.

Summarised tone of speech – let me imagine
the heat of your touch like a fine cigarette;
Your picture in my mind is such a drag.

Open ears to your deceptive voice, callous lines
of ******* in your words; so pure in white lies.
To my tough skin, your deceptive voice will
touch me – not in softness, but piercing into my
Conscience; knowing that even the prettiest looking
flowers aren’t the bunch of friends to hangout with.

Liars have the sweetest smiles, the sourest kisses
after the impression of their love wears off –
Like chewing gum, sweet at the start, until that
taste of nothing chews you up.

From the liar's mouth is the war with themselves,
battling with which lie they’ll use this day.
Telling you that they care so much for you -
liars are the sweetest.

I have endured the gallows, revolutions,
the many twists of time, and the crashing waves
of change that have battered the shores of my life.
Through the decades that have come and gone,
I have stood as a witness to the rhythmic dance of history,
embracing the insights gleaned from its elegant movements.

The first time I encountered it, I meandered along a forest path,
surrounded by the murmurs of ancient trees, my senses finely
tuned to the secrets hidden beneath their mossy embrace.
Oblivious to what lay beneath, my curiosity propelled me
to the brink of revelation, where the curtain was drawn back,
unveiling a realm where time paused and possibilities
unfurled infinitely before me.

My skin, once marked by the trials of existence,
now glows with the light of resilience and grace, shimmering
like the morning sun as it spills golden rays upon the earth
at spring's first awakening—a tender reminder of the beauty
that emerges from enduring the darkest of nights.

When you’re dancing underwater, as with feet so deep
inside of the ground. In my absence; you feel so free
as I’m not around. So shy to show off your two left feet,
I’m the least embarrassed to see you at you’re cheeks redness;
as like two overripe apples, (hanging around desire)

Toes shaky as the business hands at the longest meet
and greet, I’m so overjoyed as you dance a night;
would you at least dance one last dance with me?
While singing a happy tune with joyful tears, two weeks of
water works, and choking words, (of how to explain my love)

So accustomed to being here before, crushing my heart,
just to impress a crush. Speed dating conversations; just to
get a feel of the rush.

High on emotions; careful not to crash, as plain expressions
does many harm. But who’s going to put up with the bull,
of the sheets I use to cover the beds of love; I've made to rest
away from despair?

Flattery is key, a twisting lock into a glimpse of your heart,
One last dance it seems we all have; under the music of
life's grand stage, (do enjoy the show)

I enjoy watching you at your most vulnerable, as I'm so
vulnerable in my eyes barely focused on anything else
but you. We all live a single life, but a better chance of it when
we dance together in it as two.

So shall you and I dance?

Act as if I'm not moved by movies,
how'd that play out if it's not seen
Flip away the motion,
picture me stuck in a box of a T.V screen.

Why I speak like this,
is a person who often lives remote.
Losing control
as I try to channel every emotion.
People live to have no Parental Guidance,
all live their lives watching in due caution.

We've rated ourselves explicit,
our actions can be offensive content
The biggest of man profits from
the suffering of others.
The world is like one filled with many vultures.

The stage is set,
love in this picture shouldn't be misplaced.
Lights, camera, action!
Give your all of true love,
until none is left.
Life didn't come with scripted lines,
we can't always imitate all that we've read.

BUT,

We all have a role to play,
do be weary of the size
No matter the camera time,
play your role well to the fullest.
At the end of life,
hold high that Academy Award prize.

When all is said and done,
you'll be known as part of a "great people"
Live this one life well, there's no sequel.
When all is said and done,
you'll know, "That's a wrap people"

Saturday,
really where's the vibe?
Prefer to party inside,
in the subtle chaos of my mind.
Maybe I just want to stay dreaming,
it's really a chilled day outside.
As troubles of the weekday still lingers.  

For this day I'll tell you a story.

A nostalgic kid,
Saturday morning waking up to the screen.
Wonder what adventures are playing?
Wasn't a teen,
yet watching four of them as a kid.
Always snapping while watching four turtles.
As were feelings amid,
watching reruns of TMNT.

Flip the channel to younger days,
still much a Rugrat.
Swept under the mat,
wonder as babies did we have reasons to chat?
Wishing I could hide away from family,
hidden away in my secret laboratory.
I wouldn't be vexed,
not a little to live like Dexter.
My advantage is, I don't have a sister.

I found courage as little as I am.
In a world sort of like Eustace Bagge.
I had to become a man,
proud with what was my imperfection.
Where would I be without The X-Men?

Life was always a mystery,
from home to school.
Wish to unmask it all like ****** doo.
Wished to be armoured,
let them call out my name.
A quick watch of Visionaries and Hey Arnold!

Later go save the planet,
all life does matter
Especially those living on it.
A Captain of the show,
earth, wind fire, water and heart.
And my addition would be mind and soul.

The run around of this life,
chasing it only for a prize
A cat chasing a mouse before the mice.
As the world seems to be ******,
tune into the crazy till the afternoon.
Living a flightless life as a Pingu,
I hope it isn't as true.

My list could go on,
but I don't have much of the time.
Neither any of the energon,
how do I then Transform the time?
Is this for me, the Prime?

I must find new adventures,
as like Winnie The Pooh,
An often jumpy tigger,
how so am I rude?
I grew up shy as a piglet,
with a list of all the shows I grew up to.

My life seemed to be a Saturday cartoon.

The suffering rest
Too tired of themselves;
An attire of youthfulness
Clueless, individually in a single line
The good and the often bad
Ugly smiles of the richest people
And the expenses of a poverty lifestyle

Butchered words every time two lovers meet
Lost tongues in pointless over talk; kissing
A feeling is always missing, in between inhale
Exhale the distrust of knowing it won't last
The slowest rushes end off so fast

Fasten your heart around a sleeve
Arm your eyes to their usual war
Pleasures of sight will all **** a man
Tickles of speach blinders to woman's focus
Two of which know it's wrong, but want more and more

Drowning always in debt
Believing you owe the world something
An address to a particular subject,—we're all ode
Owed a reason to all our failures
Questions to all unanswered prayers
Heaven owes a lot in the cryptic lyrics of life

But for the moment, this is life in a nutshell
Trying all to bust a nut, sometimes nuts
And one day it will all crack open in the end

the silence of your shadow is louder when you don’t watch it –
as the memory of someone in your mind, is just a fictional
character of them. this life: walking on the thin lines of what the
eyes have seen; the unseen waits for us at the great beyond.

the narrative of love still waits on loads of blank spaces –
empty smiles towards pretty faces. but until we find the one
that helps us smile in true depth, the ones we meet are truly
just strangers in the end.

and the days love to dash in sands of time – for no one really
has all the time in the world to live out a thousand lifetimes.
still, we’ve lived a thousand experiences of a thousand lives
in this one life. living as bodies, connected by familiar tears,
stranded or motivated by fears, the highs given by the touch
of two skins, we live as bodies, die from our bodies and will
live on as spirits in the end.

                                   and to that end, the end of this poem.

Busy as much; busy as a bee
serving sweet remarks to a Queen
The hours are long, and we’re always
swarming with activity

Everyday business is always so sweet, and
even given a pet named— the retirement
package for it though, kind of stings

Every colleague of mine seems to know
what’s the buzz; and our clientele do carry a
good scent- something like flowers

…just another day for the life of a bee

Loll in a realm of no regards, shuffle the game of life like
a deck of cards — playing into the quest to uncover who
you really are. Each life begins with a question:
“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Will I be a nurturing mother? A father who can provide
for their all,” each life begins with a question – especially now,
as we ponder this curious phenomenon called life; is it still
worth it, at all. Cloaked in whispers of our cherished dreams,
the most fragile among us are those who beam brightly, even
with kinked teeth.

The gentle craving for a richer life is as tender as the insides
of our teeth — revealing everything we risk on the overflowing
platter of those we disdain; initially, it was a pleasure to meet.
Yet, I was lost in my role in this world at first – bestowed a name
at birth, still grappling with its significance in a titled world –
entitled!

Don’t we pretend that’s what we deserve even from man’s great
fall, who inherited their sin galore. I question it all. Don’t we
all act as if we deserve it all, even after humanity’s great fall,
which bestowed us a legacy of sin?

                                I question it all.

The past is a memory
The present, a moment
And the future will always be an idea...

So let's make memories, just to forget about them
at a moments notice;
As we'll think of an idea towards our futures.

Cotton candy;
of my sweetest dreams,
I taste whenever I fall asleep.

So splendid to be alive;
even in the sour moments,
of this treat of life.

All the shapes and lines;
taught the birds and bees,
the nestling of love,
and nectar of love's
pretty flower.

Life is sweet,
just a bite could tickle
anyone's teeth.

Find your peace;
and a piece of life,
to stick on your lips.


                       This sweet life.

Cuts of grass
leaves in the wind
   a moment to be free

Breathe, heavy sigh
a corpse of time
   death but long slept eyes

Oversharing life on feeds
overshadow foreshadowing needs
    it will all end in the usual tears

A love for I—selfish
a love undeserving—relish
   loving honestly, what is a blemish

Feast your eyes on food for thought
and with sweet nothings sought
   afterwards do keep their word

Life is a written poem
a river of those words flowing
  to know where we are, to keep on going

The life of a lonely poet...

A product of the moving circus,
a round of games in endless circles;
I'm still searching for purpose with a pocket
full of dreams, and old family curses.

That's me; like the tree of my family;
quick to leave when there's no options after plan B.
On a money diet; counting ribs of poverty,
in these busy restaurants; dreaming to swipe for meals
with my eyes closed honestly.
It's been so long; since I've been in a space of thought
were I actually belong.
Been a minute since I've written for so long; that the words
flow into a song.

The life of a lonely poet...

The skies of his life; turns a different shade of blue,
as he sees everything so beautiful in a different view.
The oceans must have kissed the tips of the sky;
all of which happens inside of his mind.
"I've got sometime to write," he tries to make the most of it,
over some work wi-fi.

Writing about a wife with his talented hand;
a love, a tradegy, a dream; mostly writing about
the things he kind of has or had.
Past tense; into future tense, but the present tense;
are all things being so intense.

The best painters of love, are those not in love,
just a picture in their head of love's sort of.
"I kind of; know how it feels,"
but a lonely poet is just writing to the audience's appeals.

Is anything real?

The life of a lonely poet...

So vicious; like the bites of those rough
kisses. That sinking bite on the lips, of a longest kiss.
So wet as two sinking ships; as the kisses are so deep.
He wishes he was writing for a physical Miss,
and having her straight after; and the taste of her lips.

Oh what a life of a lonely poet...

May you echo
smiles of love,
to brighten days
of others.

Love all,
be kind
let go,
move forward.

Let your dreams
be like the
mountain tops.

As we don't
hide behind clouds
we show ourselves
for them to know,
                  who we are.

With a breath of air,
I'd like to feel a little fresh today
like a mint of course,
But I'm perhaps too spicy for the world,
a peppermint too much
Of course my wording would be sharp
at the very tip of my tongue,
Spearmint tasty.

Still like a treat
with all these mints
How wouldn't you think me a little
too sweet.

The long fights,
Worth in winning the small battles
The long nights,
Shine together through the lonely shadows.

Life's battleground
where you stand,
Upon each battle we've won,
come out of them smiling glad.

Remember, you're not the only one.

Take the time—don’t just spend it— to watch your grind,
These dreams are brewed, steeped behind these caffeine eyes.
Still, as the sunrise scripts its golden lines, my gaze still delays
Having to put on a daily mask; trapped in yesterday’s disguise.
All of these borrowed hours lace my breath, thinned and worn,
All these seconds spent on second-guessing myself; I’m torn—
Barely paying attention to obvious life lessons due in reflection;
Skipping those lessons, now I pay with life's collection.

As for facing my many regrets, it proves facing the glass—
But not all mirrors can clearly cut clean through the past.
Truths are warped, wrapped for the present, for who peer—
Peering in, fragile as much, cracked, and smeared with fear.
We search within ourselves, as all seekers must willingly do,
Searching for a love clear as glass — one that is sharp, and true.
As peach blossoms fall, and small stones roll, know: that through
The times of picking yourself up, some dust gets stuck on you.

The world isn’t so clear, especially if man’s clarity is uninvolved;
Profiting from all our scars – given titles hanging over ourselves
So many times, that prophets need to remind us of who we are
Profits, or prophets, but it all depends on who’s worth you trust.

Tearing my skin,
questioning my worth, and letting all of the enemies seep in.
Fighting my thoughts, fighting my cause; so angry at the Lord,
and counting all of my flaws.

Trying to be myself,
but failing to really get enough in a day. Telling myself to pray,
but there’s a deep hate inside of my heart.
Wondering if it’s okay to play a role that’s not even my part.

Beneath all the writings I have,
a dollar a word; how much would I have earned? Are all these
struggles a part of the many things I deserve?
Itching at a nerve, doing the most work I perceive, but
the surrounding eyes don’t really believe.  (Believe in me)

In every shadow,
I’m an echo of those pains, thoughts of, “does the Lord really
save, or picks His children in Heaven’s book of few chosen names?
Soul selling, death bounding, riches of the worthless all going to Hell.
It’s the smell of earthy pleasures. If I wanted them all, what would
be it’s cost and measures?

Momma's boy, daddy’s disappointment,
all ships ahoy, attracting the attention of those now unemployed.
Let’s flip a coin, and bet your fortunes on two sides of luck. Don’t
start selling yourself short now, you’ll just be playing a constant
game of catch up.

Aren’t you fed up,
fully fooled by food for thoughts you’ll never use up? What the ****,
I was supposed to be a twenty one independent. But the dreams of
that child, I low-key ****** them up. (Excuse my French)

Apologies to my youth,
the self abuse, the tragic roots, and the youthful experiences
I never had a use. Don’t grow up too fast, because you’ll never
fit in life’s big *** shoes.

What’s the use?

Sinking into your shadow – a stranger in this place. As the ink
smudged upon your lips; leaves your voice spellbound, those words
caught in a storm within your throat. These torrent of emotions
surging in my heart, resembles rain drumming upon the pavement –
frigid as a stone adrift in the river's relentless current; it ****** my
skin like a thorn.  

Yet, the flicker of our love's promise remains, a distant glimmer,
a beacon in the vast expanse of night.

I would try to catch lightening in a jar;

For loved ones to call my bravery striking,
a mighty voice roaring like the falling thunder,
a cooling tongue of caring words drizzling,
and a passion strong as the hurricanes.

But a moment's wish only
comes once,
for lightening never strikes
the same
place twice.

But I still have my glass jar open.

My twilight dawns,
sparkling a piece in my eye. Could I see the very end
And O light of my eye, where has your lightness gone.

Could the very end be much closer as it seems,
Though it seems
a common denominator of all losses over wins
Though it seems
across the light bouncing up and down the bodies of rivers and streams,
Though it seems
like painted waters, and gleams.
Though it seems
to be found in the lightness of my dreams.

Now Dawn has risen upon that setting Sun
Time has left us all behind, but still isn't gone
singing words of encouragement but we ourselves shouldn't forget that song.

As Morning wakes
becoming a vessel for an empty space,
which I much prefer if I must confess.

Night has fallen upon,
robbing the light of day behind the sun
And I shun myself for often being found in the dark
But lightness only became as was when it went ahead of the dark.

Now my time is setting,
and at the end of it all what was my lesson.

Subtle comforts,
nonchalant cuddles under
the covers of your pretty eyes.

Undercover kisses, as like
every star coming out at night.

All soon to become a bright tomorrow;
oh my darling,- I want to show you off
to the entire world in such a glorious light.

The fall of beauty,— a rose buried beneath the
soil of time. A gazelle; prancing in tall grass,
Quickly noticed by attraction and hunt.

How fair does beauty stay in tune,
as like in a jungle...Time preys on you like the
hungry Lion.

I don't like it when you leave stains on my neck,
baby I'd have to confess to how much I really hate the mess.
So excuse me for not letting you get near my chest.

And baby I can't lie how good you look in my vest,
How you found a comfy spot on my bed, using it as your nest.
But the trial of my mind is how you've made yourself home, yet you came in here as just a guest.

You told me your name was Patience, but truly speaking it's not in your nature,
And you make me wish we never met sometimes. Could you not be a stranger.
For you look to me to be your savior,
but I can't answer that prayer.
You just happen to be the girl they call a slayer.
And why I let you stay is beyond me,
indeed you knew how to lie to my very heart, filling it's hopes with your fake glee.
I'd run away from you, but my emotions towards you I can't flee.

So I'll just watch from my bed while you put on your lipstick smile.
Watch you dress yourself in the mirror,
let my heart play out your hero.
And while I wait for you to come back, I'll remember your scent that's left on my pillow.

The ring on my finger may say we're ment to be,
But you don't let me be so free.
So I'd ask you the question, why did you even marry me.

Gas chambers,
Puffing on a breath of exhale.
Heavy lungs made of black acres.
Ashy gases surely want to do me the betrayal.

Pulling ******* a heavy gas,
High time smokers annoy me the most.
Puffing hard, pulling strong and then pass.

Burning a couple papers
Cigarette's ashy body holds no hope nor does me any favors.

Inhale a little more,
Lungs feel heavy, enough to carry the weight of the world.
A blanket of black smoke easily covers my deepest core.

Lit cigarette,
Smoke it well to fill these lungs with regret.

Except, I'm not the smoker in this story.
Heavy lungs of cigarette's air feels highly predatory.

Heavy lungs, Heavy lungs, it's a heavy heart.
Left myself from buying at the corner mart.
Just to walk out of the store to at least feel smart.

Hopeless romantic—I want to cry. Feelings pressed so deep, they die
quiet deaths between sighs. I don’t know what you see in this eye—a
dim-lit portrait, painted in the bruises of love dye. Questions coil
around my spine, but the heaviest one hisses: “Who the **** am
I?”

When we kiss, let’s make it sacrament—a whispered heresy, tongues
speaking in wet prophecy. But you don’t kneel for any father. You’ve
made altars from broken men with daddy-issue blueprints. And I—
just another one trying to fix what wasn’t mine to mend.

My fingertip—a brushstroke on your bitten lip, painting the hunger
before it slips. You wear love like fingerprints around your throat,
scarred tender from where I once held your breath like a prayer.

You're unsure of yourself, but I make you a shoreline—soft enough to
land on, wild enough to drown in. You become my bay, my mouth’s
favorite practice ground. My wreckage. My beach.

Each kiss tastes like searching for sin between your teeth—warm, wet
confessions we never speak. A shared gasp for air in the ache between
moans, as if pleasure could ease the pressure clawing beneath our
bones.

Would we love longer, or be like everyone else, hoping to just ****
better? Could your heart even measure what my hands now own?
Your body echoes beneath sweat-glazed skin, like a haunted song I
still hum. The feelings crawl, then collapse—pulling me under. Like
a dream that bites back. One that begs to be real. But this love has
only a few moments to taste that real.

Poems, sonnets, haikus, odes, songs, prose;
every one of them are trapped in a little black box—
a pen, the only key that unlocks my heart for everyone.

A box teeming with all my pains in it;
secrets or lies? There’s an eternity in that box- all my
verses are in it; some remain locked till the inevitable
death of another disregarded poet.

Oh, my little black box; filled with thoughts-
your love is less;- in an honest jest; laughing at most
of my secret ideas— ones far from their best, further less.
Writing something to forget as something less;
pieces I beget as children; I leave them so fatherless.

                                  Trapped in that little black box!

I've been living out of the ideas of the world as a homeless
man; and if I killed that person I loved the most,
I'd be killing myself,-

Still I don't live enough for myself, trying to impress
everyone else. All of the impressions of a people
pleaser, tattooed on my tongue, speaking sweetly about
others- to make them fill up on their highs.

Feel up on your heights, to rise up on your
pride in your mind. As life is nothing without outcomes,
that comes with the income; and none of us are born
without come, for the price of love to soon in come.

Still let's live as those who have a lot to live for.

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.

All our time is glass,
fragile hands holding onto past
live, hurt, forgive and laugh

A for anybody; for any of you reading
into my heart. Try correct the spelling.

B for beginning; to any great story I’m
soon to tell. I hope to get your understanding.

C for seasons; oh for life’s many moments
comes with change. All reshaping.

D for decisions; mostly the critical ones
I make in a day. I do so after praying.

E for eating; especially when I’m in a such
a bad mood. Who doesn’t love eating?

F for effort; so fit to do even in the hardest
of all situations. Just keep pushing!

G for ginger; sweet and bitter at times
while trying to be polite. People are testing.

H for eish; a word I often say under a lot
of daily stress. The closest I am to swearing.

I for iron; cause life’s a pressing matter
of sorts. And close to *******.

J for Jane; I couldn’t think of a clever word
but I’d most likely crush on one. Just saying.

K for Kassan; I wouldn’t be one shying away
from loving himself. I’m quite impressing.

L for l-plate; cause I’m still learning this
race to truly love. There’s no point rushing.

M for meh; not much for me to really say
when it comes to it. Just keep it moving.

N for anything; that tickles your fancy
on happiness. Just keep on smiling.

O for oh; of all the many realizations in
this beautiful life. So mesmerising.

P for pea; not the liquid if your mind
leaks. It wasn’t a vegetable I was fond of eating.

Q for cue; maybe as the time for me to
leave, or stick in the line. Cameras always rolling.

R for are; being asked if you are ready or
you are not. Especially if it’s something daring.

S for especially; mostly in the times my points
are right. No need correcting.

T for tedious; I’m not a fan of repeating myself
too many times. Are you listening?

U for euphoria; I’ve never been the happiest
to use that word. But I’m still trying.

V for victorious; and of the vision to
see my successes far ahead. I keep on dreaming.

W for double you; seems a bit to easy
but I’d wish to have a double of you. Talking about loving.

X for excellent; as of when I write something
that fills me with joy. So exciting!

Y for why; for a curious mind hungry
for wisdom, and spirituality. I long for reasoning.

Z for zeal; the cause is done when it finally
meets it’s end. Finally granted the best finishing.

And so to love-
we're dared to lock eyes;
As with both keys to heart.
And so to enter;
one knows the sound of love's knock.

Must I tell you about her locs,
That dance with the rhythm of her hips,
Watching their twist, and turn – a testament
To the tangled thoughts in every strand, a reflection
Of the tender care she donates upon her hair.

And would I love to keep a lock, and key
To her locs, being a LONG story in itself—
Free, vibrant, and unapologetically bold
The sunlight catches the rich hues of her hair;
Tales of her heritage, struggles, and her triumphs.

I swear, I promise; I must say...
Her locs are the echoes of the laughter
And tears that have shaped her journey.

baby you should know I cry better when I’m alone –
and I don’t really like to have to long conversations on the phone,
if it means I don’t see you by tomorrow, and try to hold you close…

but maybe I’m just so good at being alone –
that any time I’m banking on potential love, it’s just a loan

living so low – the hopeless romantic,
and their romantic feelings sitting solo… even when
I’m fearful of love, it’s much scarier being so in love,
but in love all alone
               no one really wants to be alone

There’s a lowly eye
Of this Mr Lonely guy
He has a purple eye
Carrying purple tears whenever he cries

Bit the wings of a fly
Wore a serpent tail as a tie
And stole the clock of Father time
Dreamt of switching the bulb, when the sun loses its shine

He’s cocky outside
But an injured bird inside
He’d pry your eyes to melt your pride
And loved to sue any reason for suicide

As the mask only comes off at night
Slow dances with depression—what a lonely life

Let's get high, and drink until the sun gets low
Cos I'm so fond of you, but not so fond of other girls
So no wonder I haven't found any another girl
And let me be cut in my eyes, every time I see you,
Then pretend the tears aren't a mix of blood from what I saw

Thinking about our regrets after we make love; an afterthought
Afterwards, we'll talk about ourselves as we were before
I'm always a little mellow, making a melody out of a poem
But never tempered by your tempo, once I've struck a chord

But lowkey, I'm trying to fit into your memories like a key
I've been a little twisted by other girls, who don't know me
You know, buying love out of a loan,- I'm really just lonely

my heart – a means of transportation;
with loads of weight to carry, passenger love
interests coming in and out
                 “here’s your stop”

sometimes I want to put it in park
but without any of the sparks, my engine
will just turn into rust – can’t turn if off;
someone who can’t let love into their heart
                   “major turn off”

still here’s your turn off, right by the corner
of the tears in my eyes – the point of a journey
is enjoying the scenes of that journey, but it's
a whole lot better when you have someone on
                                           this ride

     right now, it's a lonely drive.

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.

I wish I could record all of your secrets,
but I lose track of the time, and there's
this constant laugh track on my mind,
forcing a smile to bloom awkwardly on my countenance.

I wish I could purchase dreams for your journey,
enabling you to traverse the labyrinth of my mind.
As I stand afar, I find myself ensnaring the playful
butterflies that flutter within my emotions.

I wish I could to weave a bow from your desires,
launching them towards the stars.
On this celestial arrow, I'd affix a note – a divine appeal
– for you deserved everything, everything that edges
you closer to perfection.

I wish I could fold up my passion into paper,
and gently tuck these parchment words
into the chambers of your heart.
Despite the paper cuts stinging my hands,
I'd endure, for it's merely a testament of my
unwavering affection towards you.

I wish I could mask out all of my tears,
for I am but an unsightly mourner.
I have wept before mirrors, only to have them
reflect my sorrow – the painful awareness that
I can only yearn for you, never truly possess you.

an old piece of paper;- rustic with words of verses to a
beautiful beginning with an awful end— a jealous pen,
towards poems that boldly write stanzas of love- starved,
drained, alone in the silence of a love life, a heart not to
beat for love- only to read about it again and again.

i am; a plain piece of paper- words, actions, desires…
all things searching, for a true love that only comes
much later. live a day, sleep over a dawn of love, and
departure a night crying about it, alone.

Green tint to your hair dye;
with a purple shade of lips.
All now complete with purple
makeup on your eye.

Made up blemishes and all;
paints the stroke of realism.
Unlovable parts to be loved;
Too much of a free spirit,
to keep count of your soul.

Rest upon my artistic love;
though I don't own a mattress.
Been long to train out my love;
and exercising my emotions.
So I might be out of practice.

Drew out my heart;
drawing out your picture,
As I fell in love with an idea.
What a pencil put onto paper;
as I drew you out all alone.
But hopes of being a feature.

(Lonesome artist)

In love with his drawings;
but also an artist ever so lonely.

It's this longing—of longing to see
you, over the longest weekend
I hoped long enough to see you in person
to give you the longest hug

But we're long to find that beautiful moment
and our love for one another

Your fiery surface burns
at the taste of my tongue.
I've tasted love,
making feast of who you are.

Starved of your love,
far too long. The longing hurts.
Bent out of shape,
these days missing your curves.

I crawl at your love,
far before I learn to walk.
I felt your claws dig into me,
far enough for the pain to pour.  

Longing now for more.

Whether it be longing or lust,
my body turns to ashes.
As for my heart,
goes along in the wind as dust.

I love you in good taste
why good morning kisses
Pain of experience, acquired taste
waking tomorrow on yesterday's creases

Late debates, on a pillowcase
pillow talk with smothered words
To prefer—things said in vein crawling
under the skins ~it was a long night

Two lips are foreign before a kiss; we speak as friends,
laughing together as lovers – and hoping to finally kiss
as the latter.

But it takes time climbing up that ladder; taking each slow
step, to lead up to your matter meeting my matter; making
it really matter.

The sting of cheeks, the first time you taste something
so sweet; a flower on my lips by the scent of perfect
dreams – I’d shut my eyes each time we'd kiss; it’s just
a natural response, and one I hope lasts us both so long.

I haven’t kiss someone for so long, that it’s a taste I long.

Throughout the vast expanse of time, the answers to
life's mysteries are scattered within the arras of our personal histories.
Life itself resembles a game of chance, as we navigate through
the unknown, hoping to discover love and understanding along the way.

Among the myriad of factors that shape our lives,
religion stands as an incredibly powerful force.
It is the belief we invest in it that grants it such profound influence.
Religion has the capacity to guide and inspire us, but it can also,
at times, create divisions among us.

Death, — the inevitable end that awaits us all,
is a language that resonates with every soul. It serves as the great equalizer,
reminding us of our mortality and the fleeting nature of our existence.
In the face of death, all other differences seem trivial and insignificant.

Betrayal—, a painful reality that knows no boundaries,
can come from those closest to us - whether it be family or friends.
Strangely enough, it is often easier to forgive a stranger,
someone we may never encounter again. Perhaps it is because
the absence of familiarity makes it easier to let go of the hurt.

The selfish among us often cling tightly to their possessions,
unwilling to share their blessings with others. Ironically, it is often
those who claim to be religious who are the greatest deceivers.
They may recite the teachings, but their actions speak louder than
their words, revealing their true nature.

In this flawed world, where lies and deceit can burden
our conscience, it may seem challenging to find love and acceptance.
Yet, despite our imperfections, we strive to love one another
to the best of our abilities. And amidst it all, we find solace in
the embrace of our Lord, who offers us unconditional love and acceptance.

One,
Of the ways you call my name,
Are two,
Of the reasons I always stay.

Especially when three,
Of the times you kiss my cheek,
Has given me four,
Of the reasons to skip on my feet.

I kissed you at five,
Of the times we went out.
I think I have about six,
Of the reasons for my heart to lose count.

So I must be in love to be losing count.