Many words do leave my pen
along with many thoughts,
dreams and ideas,
expressed with ease.

I go to speak to God,
with many thoughts
of devotion and love.
But my words to God
seem to be lacking,
in the big scheme of things.

Truth comes forth in my mind,
that I have not given
or felt the love,
that I should for my God.

Speaking words of love
to my beloved,
comes easy as my heart
bleeds my love for her.

But is my lack
of words for my God,
because I have not
shown my God the same love,

That he deserves!!

i've always admired
how a blank white wall
looked back into my eyes

how it reflects as
pure, whole, pristine
into my deep dark eyes

how it pulls out
another set of trigger
into my soul

about how it makes
so much sense
my mind is white
blank
plain
dull

until you set
this explosion of colors
with little time-bombs
e v e r y w h e r e

as if these hues
represent
the way we are,

or more importantly,
the way we're not

how these reds
that should indicate
passion
love
lust
***
impulse

but they won't
cover up
the whites

instead they wash away
like water
against these blank walls

as if
your love for me
was never real anyway

as if i was nothing
to be lost
to be thrown away

as if the greens blues oranges
can stay
but you were yellow

you covered up
so much space
so much time

as if it symbolizes
your impact on me

how i cannot forget
this rendezvous we have

once or twice
or just whenever
you feel like

how can you not
forgive me?

i never forgiven myself either.

Who or what is a dreamer,
sitting there diguising himself.
Describing descriptions and feelings
that he never really felt...
To unsure to understand his plans are always pure;
he wants no part in using his gift,
he wants a cure.
Nah, i'm not a psychic,
a prophet,  nor off my my rocket
just a girl that reads people like you
then builds her topic.
So it gets said just this once, I introduce
The proof, see Falen another dreamer
speaks the truth.