You are not weak;
You just have to find out your strengths
When you feel the failure all the time,
Just do your best and surrender the rest to God
Always think positive and try to see the best in you

You are not ugly;
You just need to smile to enhance the beauty in you
Always do the good things for you but consider the welfare of others
For beauty is not just skin-deep but coming from the heart

You are loved;
Yes, don't say nobody loves you
That child who smiles when he sees you,
Jesus whom you cannot see, but always loves you
And I, the only one who will not stop loving you

I love you!
This is me, yourself.

There are fewer things
beautiful than ugly,
I know that stars are most
bright when they fall
from impassioned skies,
That when your skin
meets mine, I am like an
amnesiac being returned
a lifetime of memories.

I hate few things,
except, perhaps, the murky
lakes of your eyes,
The misty beaches we
explored until sunrise.
How you pressed your lips
to mine like a death wish,
that it was deplorable,
but we wanted more, more.

My body was a map
you tore apart when you
got tired of exploring it.
The ancient psalms of our
tongues cannot silence.
Ruins of ancient Rome
survive on your lips, yet
you still live, breathe.
You call yourself mortal.

eyes like the forest
mysterious and inviting
draw me close
until i am lost.

There was no warning.
No explanation.
Just an empty room.
Yet laughter could still be heard within.
Somehow it brought more pain.
A sting for every shard.
Thousands of needles.
lacerating the insides like a beehive had just imploded.
Each and every one hid a memory.
A slow acting poison.
Paralyzing...
Ongoing.
Days passed and no answer still..
Fear ransacked my mind.
While my body barely held together

The cold steel in my hand.
Gave no reassurance as it once had.
I was surrounded.
Encased in a metaphor.
Yet this one seemed to breathe.
My family needed me.
The one that raised me.
The one that killed me.
The one that buried me.
And so back at the very threshold I pledged to so long ago.
My brothers.
Many of which gave the only thing that they had left.
On that night.
They stood there.
Shoulder to shoulder.
A thunderous night it was.
For blood was not the only thing washed away.
But an existence all together.
A life.
A Debt.
Now paid.

Ever wonder what a real man is like? Let me tell you.

A real man cares about what goes on in your head.
All the others just care about getting you to bed.
A real man gives you a special place in his heart.
Them other guys just want you to spread your legs apart.

A true man wants to ease all of your pain.
A "player" wants you for his own gain.
A real man isn't scared for you to see his tears.
Them other boys will never tell you their fears.

(Insert rant) A sign that you've found a real man is when you are both able to share your all of your worries, anxieties, and personal cares with each other; and can do so in faith that he's not only listening, but caring.

A real man is there through thick and thin.
Other guys just want your skin.
You can look a real man deep into his eyes,
And know that he's not hiding any lies.

**To all the men who read this poem, look at yourself and see if you fit this description. Do you think that your lady would say you follow these guidelines? If you're single, are you a man that ladies find trustworthy? I hope you are, and if you're not that you change that. We men need to represent.