A warrior with clean armour
Has not seen real battle
He bares his fangs
But bares no scars

A bladeless sword
All for show
A conversation piece
For cowardice not war

A rusted knight
With a heart of gold
So cumbersome
It became a curse

A war for wimps
A social life battle
Casualties of black sheep
Are the real fallen soldiers.

My body is cloth
To cut as I choose
Held together with cotton
And patch work bruises

Broken button eyes
Mouth of stitches
No words to escape
Put away into a box

Waiting to be used
But thrown away
For second hand love
I’m just a rag doll.

When will this sick feeling end
Clouds in my brain turning black
Thunder of hateful thoughts
Like lightning to my heart

Body shake earthquake
Hands a tremor
Volcano stomach
Landslide legs to the ground

Eyes collapse like buildings
Rubble tears crash off my face
Fog of fear filling my lungs
Choke on reality.

Chains of heart strings locked away by fake queens
Time behind a cell wall
I wonder why love is a crime

Punishment from something that my heart commits
But my brain a bystander to an attack on beauty
Witness to pain from someone meant to be a painkiller

Your lying lips sounding like old movie scripts
Bounding me to the cold corners of this mental cage
Prison tattoos consisting of scarred arms

Associates in romance and nothing more
Holding hands just a misdemeanor
You’re leaving me on parole.

A reason to live in the lifeless

Hope in lost dreams
Solitude behind broken walls
Creativity from empty pages

Wisdom in foolishness
Knowledge from silent mouths
Voices in a deaf crowd

Love from a motionless heart.