My hope for...my everything that I adore...my live for....my die for...my laugh with my cry for...my want more...my look for...my could be better half...my must have...my algebraic...math equation..equaling the solution to my love starvation...my think about...my shout it out...my help cry out...my hand in hand walking mean..man...she is my Queen...she is my learned love mentor my hopeful meant for my co-kid creator....no one greater...it's her..she is..my there she is....

can i walk with you...
talk with you...
lay with you...
stay with you...
grow old and gray with you...
laugh with you...
cry with you...
die with you smile with you
oh so special you...
look up to the sky with you
I
mean
man
****
oh my
I just want to try....
forever I wanna be your guy.....

She is

-Peter T. DeSpirito

I let go of train of thought when I notice a person getting caught, and abused by another person in the form of cursing or some sort to have that person feel distort....and after that person is abused...and used to amuse...suicide becomes their last resort....word weapons are such a discretion...

Stop the Word Weapons...Stop the Word Weapons...Stop the words weapons that are being used more than machinery...it gives people a reason to start swinging in a violent matter...after that word weapon's egged on chit chatter....

I let go of train of thought when i notice a group of people circling another person...laughing...and giggling...pointing...and singling out one after another...while he or she is crying...like a bullet hit deep...signs of that person's pride dieing...now rendered weak...unable to speak...misjudgement of character...like a book chapter missing....someone should say something but they act like they're not listening...

Stop the Word Weapons...Stop the Word Weapons....Stop the Word Weapons....stop the reason for violent discretion...stop the judging...stop the pushing...and shoving...stop saying nothing...let the abused's pride be rebuilt inside...let the weak speak....let the shamed look up to the sky...let the quite unable to speak stop being shy...be strong instead of weak...laugh instead of cry....we all are people...we have feelings that are equal...no matter the color...let us listen to our mother when they have said...to treat others like we want to be treated...smile when being greeted...cool off when you are heated...look with a smile instead of a frown...cause our father who art in heaven is looking down...wondering if we are lost...and can't be found...

United We Stand...Divided We Fall
-Peter T. DeSpirito

Down the block around the corner is where I left my head....my head I said...face red...crying letter filled tears...these words I see...I write them down for hear cheers....cut to the shape of my mind distant from where I stand....I must of planned these simple finding words....never tripping...but gripping...latching on to this constant conscience consequences...that leaves me with no hope but I cope with **** in my mind...nonsense....yeah I know but this bean-stalk of words continue to grow...no sense of direction...forming a new out look discretion....whats my motivation....life....life is beautiful...but hard....rewarded to us by God....I guard my words with my mind...so no one could see...judge...laugh...point...so I used to write for me....now I write for my new friends of poetry....
-Peter T. DeSpirito

New York City...My city of reality...my city of those broken dreams...my city of the business schemes...new york city....my home sweet home...the only place my heart will roam...so i could never ever leave it alone...new york city...my city of broken homes...my city of broken coble stones...my home sweet home...

New York City...how damaged it seems to be...but more beautiful than people see...so deep with secrets and schemes....that broke peoples dreams...a heart skips a beat...people labled bums living in the street...the weak could never speak of...once rich with love...drunk in the morning...park bench at night to sleep off the drug... mean mug with a gangster lean shoulder shrug...little eyes bare witness growing up to become a ****...nightmares is kiddy play...innocent people slaying...government playing with our money...delaying our dreams...as they think its funny...but we still love our city...no lie...we could move but why..? Why let those broken coble ****** stoops **** our dreams....? Why let the business schemes take our money we couldve used to fix broken scenes....? We are New Yorkers....home of great talkers....but no action.....beautiful lights....but knocked before we reach our heights....deadly fights.... staged in a park in the dark....different colors are threats...race factor and hate crime...amongst crime itself...yet we are still the greatest city...as silly as it may sound...I will be buried under New York City ground....

New York City......my city of reality....some day we will all see...triumph of humanity....where else would I be....but right here....In my home sweet home... I will never leave it alone... By: Peter T DeSpirito

Though I know no limit to my untold head story that will unfold my lifted non gifted cold depression state that I use to hold...I mold my own statues...crafting them with my hands....I stand my stands....I now comprehend my understands....blaming no one...taking the heat...I am a son of a mother that is 6 feet deep...I no longer weep my missings for this misses...though I pray for her ending prayers with kisses...dug my self in a hole with a pole...but dug out in fractions to be whole...30 years in the making...I crook took my taking....fixed my mistaken....cause there is no end...I am now my own friend....I no longer pretend...all of which made me who I am...I am me again....Ha ha

***** crazy....***** crazy...I've stepped outta my mind...going crazy...fitting myself in this puzzle game maybe...I've stepped outta my mind cause ***** crazy....
                  By: Peter DeSpirito

Writing faster than before

blistering no more

my finger tips still grips

the Pen that I am mastering

extracting the words from my head

battering the ink from its physique like

violent blood shed...proof reading words that I write

before it's re-read causing my teeth to start chattering like

in bitter cold shivering...but still ink splattering...so I keep writing

faster as I grip the pen that I must master

Blinking a perfect word over flow....though I over throw my critical mind thinking...but still blinking thinking 2.o...here we go....the square root of the connection to my mind and to these words is 2.o of my thinking process which solves for X...bringing my eyes to start blinking paragraphs like algebraic math equatic polluted solution now I'm shooting my loaded word weapon clip Run....For fun I write....I empty my mind 'til I feel right.....I eat words in the morning...afternoon and at night....it's tight compact words that interact but never lack or give slack to my critical mind...which makes my eyes start blinking but I'm still thinking 2.o....woa!

Peter T. DeSpirito