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I would rather
Have *** before marriage than get married for ***
I would rather
Be with a wise man than a foolish one
I would rather
Be outside of the church than in the church
I would rather
Be looked at by your eyes than haughty eyes
I would rather be with you.
You who makes me sweet
You who's filled with heaven's beat
You who likes me for me
You
You are thoughtful
You are kind
You are gentle
You are patient, understanding
You are filled with integrity
That is why I say,
"I would rather be outside of the church than in the church"
I would rather be where you are
Personal*
 Mar 2016 Viseract
The Dedpoet
So you are a man,
Shackled,
A man that weaves
Together fear and confusion
Beyond what is known skin deep,
A man overblown with
Certain landscapes and familiarity.

What words come out
From your version of Heaven,
From your Heaven to other lands,
The red winds that blow deep
Tickling strings of rhetoric

Listen,
You are what misunderstood
Like a certain star that refuses
To pass light in certain spectra,
Different star,
Wrong star,
Dying star,
And your sky will be taken away
By hypnotic cages
And civilized torture

Speak, speak a confession citizen
When you are found
Guilty and your manhood
Is bled into submission,
     You will see no sunsets,
You will bear a cross never your own

You, man,
Born in the tide of crystalline confusion,
The world is predicted
And the tombs are full of
The innocent by faith

I tell you because I am a man,
And I do not know what kind you are

Problems, they are problems,
Is it you who blow up the constellations?
You dance on the heels of Jihad,
Do you not?
Are you not guilty by faith?
Now that the angels cry,
Tossed into the fray of which God
Is holier,
Tell me, is this fair,
Fair the torment,
Fair the fear,
Fair the justice of manipulation?

Answer me, answer me
Man of faith,
Because I too am confused,
I am bound by love of country,
Yet tormented by ethics and morals,
****** this humanity!

Now, now I must know,
I am splintered into many people,
However I am also your friend,
The day burns with rhetoric,
I do not know you man,
I cannot seem to help you,
Much less help my understanding
And soon,
Soon I am called unpatriotic,
They shall call me traitor,
Because I wish to understand.

All I say,
All I know,
Tell me,
Why have they caged you?
Say nothing,
I can't believe you,
Say everything,
I doubt every breath.

And now I speak as a man,
I speak to you,
I am a poet,
And to write humanity is my curse,
No allusions,
No metaphorical terms,
You Muslim,
You Man,
I do not understand:
    
          On the moon God watches
          On the wind the angels cry,
          And men do not speak,
          They cannot understand.
Sometimes these things must be put out in the open. I am no judge, I am American, but we cannot blame  a beautiful people for the actions of the few. And the message works both ways. As poets we must be socially responsible. This poem is meant to reflect both sides and both natures. We are poets, we can all understand.
 Mar 2016 Viseract
m i a
you were the stars in my eyes,

the blue to my skies,

the truth in my lies,

the art i couldn't keep inside,

[ b o o m]

then you became the evil in my eyes,

the thunder in my skies,

the secrets in my lies,

and the cold heart i kept inside,

[ b r e a t h e ]

why?
drawing really gives me inspiration.
 Mar 2016 Viseract
Caitlin
At 18 I made the mistake of telling you I had the heart of a poet.
That the way to my heart was through written word.
You only smiled and took it as a challenge.
The next two years were filled with both romantic and sensual gestures, in written  word.
I fell in love with the fact you were in love with me.
Well, if I have the heart of a poet you have the soul of a writer
and the world you created for us on paper, was better than any fantasy novel I have ever read.

At 20 I can still see your writings, declarations of love that you swore would last forever,
but I can no longer see myself as the heroine in your story.
I read your words and I see her living out my fantasy.
Do you write for her, as you did for me?
For her sake, I hope not.
So she doesn’t end up like me, reading and re-reading your words, trying to find the disaster and warning signs in your perfect world that you created for the two of us.
While you're busy becoming the writer of a different love story.
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