Each stoke you paint is a work of art,
And yeah dear Zoe, you're really smart,
And your taste in books is beyond compare,
And you're flawless in ways that just ain't fair,
And you've go the most beautiful smile,
And you dress with just the most perfect style,
And you're kinder than words can express,
And you do everything with such finesse,
And you're amazing in just every way,
And so my friend, happy birthday.

I finally found the words, but I found them far too late,
I guess I can't avoid, that cruel, cruel thing called fate.
I've wanted to tell you for longer than I can recall,
But now I've missed my chance, I can't tell you it at all.
So I'll scream into my pillow, scream till my face is blue,
Screaming all the words, I wish I could be whispering to you.
But it's too late, I messed up, missed my chance,
No more future for the two of us, but at least we had that dance.

How can I miss, a girl I don't know?
How can you reap, seeds you don't sow?
I don't know her any more, I can't feel like this
Come on, my boy, you crave that kiss
I gave it a shot, it failed, it died
How can you know if you haven't tried?

Play the game, come on, get on the ball
I tried, I played, and I lost it all
Another chance, come on, you still think she's hot
Alright, one last go, I'll it a shot

The id wins, every time
Shut up Id, this is my rhyme

It's how slowly the darkness takes over that I think is why no one notices
It's little small things I stop doing over a period of weeks that it somehow becomes an integrated part of me. That's why they don't notice my blank state, my sad tired lifeless eyes, my unwillingness to participate in conversation. If it all happened at once that's a different story, that's when people notice. This is why when I break down, it goes unnoticed. Even by me.

Just a stranger with a familiar face
Who's touch once caused my heart to race
And I'd trade my life just to know you now
To be in your life any way you'll allow
But I hope in vain, you are much too gone
You're someone different, you have moved on.

Staring deep, into the fire, as it dies,
I've come to see, that it all was lies.
But now I forget your once perfect voice,
That's what you want, and it was your choice.
But the beat of your heart, pulsing with haste,
Lying in my arms, as they wrapped round your waist.  
That memory shall take longer, much longer, to die,
Too bad even that memory, was naught but a lie.

Sing, Goddess, a poem worthy of my love
As beautiful as Venus, lady of the dove
Sing, Goddess, for my muse has run dry
Yet the muses are immortal, never to die
Sing, Goddess, Erato hear my plea
I need a poem good enough, for my love to see.

My favourite colour, has long since been grey
But I didn't know why, until today
I envy grey, grey doesn't commit
Any strong emotion, well grey isn't it
Grey's not red anger, red hate, or  red love,
Blue sadness, yellow fury or perfection's white dove.
No, grey is nothing, no emotion, no pain,
no commitment, no dichotomies, I want that again.