O my love
O my dear
I want to tell you about the moon this night
She is hidding in your eyes,
shining smoothly by touching my skin.
The wind
O the wind
O my love
brings you to me,
so I let you come in my mind, my love.
The star is spinning in my head,
do you know I get to have a bed late?
O my love
O my dear
The night sky is lying beside me
I just want you to know,
there is no body,
except you, if you let me love you.

She keeps writing many poems
and does not care when her writings
does not get many readers.
She keeps herself from the pain she gets and she loves it.
The way she looks
and the way she smiles
we can see by reading all her writings.
She has many friends with the words she writes
and she gets many loves with the world she lives.
The only way to find her home
is by reading it at all.
She is the princess of the words.

I'm here
sitting on the comfortable chair
with all of my poems
waiting to see
what the words could describe you.

I'm here
looking the blank pages
that I so much hate
all the time when
I want to write.

I'm here
where the pain
I so much love
grows the roses in my heart
then you freely pluck me.

I'm here  
where the night
letting the rain
pouring me from the sky
trying to **** every silence.

I'm here
where the shadows
become a crowd
burning my candle
showing me a smile.

I'm here
trying to phoned you
but you weren't in it,
I'm still here
to understand my loneliness.

The rose
will hurt you
when you hold on tight.
You may like roses
with his appearance.
It is beautiful with its color.
The rose
will hurt you
when you don't know
how to treat it properly.
Like a love,
which you never care about
and you waste.

Darling,
the words are now wilting,
give birth to the scent of roses.
The youth we fail to understand, expectations are increasingly wanted to always be fulfilled.
Bringing the flocks,
then grow and age.
If only things couldn't go away so easily,
maybe we've always been there.

The sea brings you to me
To the aroma I smell
Fresh air in there
The sun sets its light to you
And I get that reflection
It is so beautiful
When your eyes and mine staring each other
The seagull flies between ours
The sea brings you to me
And I sail until the wind blows my love to you

She is loved
by me.
I am loved
by the others
I don't meet and know before.

One day you will find me too,
and all these poems.
Then, I will really not write anymore, maybe my days will be complete, and all will be lost.
At that time,
you will realize,
what it's like to be someone to remember, what I love you more, because the air only leaves the smell of ink marks on the paper.

Wush!
Wush!
Wush!
I fly.

I want to take a closer look at the star in the night sky full of light, how it still shines bright enough even though it is thousands of miles away from my eyes.

I sometimes want to be that star, so that one day when you go far and get lost you will find me there, or maybe will see me, and I will always see you from here.

I want you to still like the light, even though sometimes the dimness doesn't always end up disappearing.

When we can understand
after we consume too much
everything you no longer need
or we don't have to know –
technology that drives us all the crazier,
lovers who end up hating each other,
fictional romance stories and idol figures,
forest destruction, environmental pollution,
riots, the roar of caged animals;
I saw the news of an elephant calf
reported to have died
with an entangled trunk
his eyes lookup
into our minds,
increasingly miserable workers
for a small fee,
the state moves people like pawns;
beautiful and charming thief,
elegant wife and luxury
overcrowded prison,
slum dweller,
unemployment,
and a man old enough to love graves.
These things, and more, in content
shows life swinging on a rotten axis.
But they left a little hope
to drown out a little mess
or intentionally making noise
on the show, we have to pay for ourselves every day,
in the smartphone screen.
A flying bird
and around the roof of the house
as a symbol of death
against human conscience,
above he shouted,
“Love me again!”
such as vehicles and pollution
who came on time,
and the city awaits them.
On the shop front,
water runs high,
people laughing happily
and the flowers wither away
in rainy season
who came again.
Is there any form of sadness
other than things that are no longer useful,
for those of us who are speechless?

The sun
        is so cold, and
the poetry
        is so warm.
We will grow old, and your shoulder lay on my arm.
The sun
        is so cold, and
the poetry
        is so warm.
The love should be hold or we're getting harm.
The sun
        is so cold, and
the poetry
        is so warm.
I love you like sparkling gold even though my body was eaten by worm.

I still remember every kisses
she gave to me at the night
fall into my bed
dark with little light
burn it with some delight.

That's a good day for me
because she still believes in nothing.

I burn my cigarette at the same time
before her lips and mine collide in the bad time.

I still remember every kisses she gave to me,
but she doesn't remember that night.

That time has finished me,
but there is no victory.

The time is so different when you are in love
They might be silent and you never told them what happened
You had met strangers before and got a relationship with them
They are in love with you, and yeah, you are also in love with them
You were going on a date
Kissing them
Hugging them
Spending your time as long as you could do to yourself
Loving them as far as you could give to them a love itself
You had so many beautiful days all the time when you were in love
You were happy, and you deserved to be happy
One week you did
One month you did
One year you did
And after, and after
But in one moment both of you felt bad and it was going to be mad
You broke your heart by trying to forget what you loved before
You tried, then you would say to yourself
“I hate growing up”
“I just want to be a kid all the time”
“I won’t be falling in love again, it hurts”
That’s statement might be unspoken
But yeah, maybe everyone thinks about it at once

"She's long ago forgotten me."
"I hope she finds me in lonely rain."

We were in love with someone we can't keep or save.
We were in fight with that reality, we called it love and hate.
We were in suffer for this tragedy we called romance.
We were in trapped the way it called game, but nobody knows how ready they are.
The tragedy we called romance, the way the heart's broken, the adrenaline when we were in love.

"It's too late to grow a beautiful flower with the same sun in the wild street", said the man who was sitting on the park bench eating his own ****.

"What is your favorite song?", I asked you.

"What is your favorite love story?", I asked myself.

"What is yours?", the question asked herself.

"I am yours", the answers answered their will.

At the limit of doubt,
you **** me with time,
we fail again to plan a love
that is almost done.

She was the twilight
that lit up in my eyes.

She was the moon
that lit up my dark night.

She was the star
that guide my way home.

She was here before,
and now she belongs to someone else.

The letter
I've sent to you last day,
I realized
it won't be read by you.
You've gone from the words
I wrote to.

The letter
I've sent to you last day,
I realized
it won't be read by you.
I never try to write my feeling for,
because there is nothing to write for.

A man's dream was eaten by death
and there is no funeral for him.
He's trapped in an old broken memory.
And the death is singing loudly,
And the love of women he missed,
And all the way she goes.
The pain is ready.
The pain is silent.
And for every suicide that was never recorded.
And every poem he's written that never tell the sad story.
And for the unsorrowful dying of the smell roses
coming down to the sea.

I love the way you do not love me.
But I hate the way you go and never tell me that you always love me by your side.

You lock your heart tightly,
I'm the wrong key.

This is sadness.
The sadness that only I can feel.
There are no words to describe this sadness.
Poetry is full of dead words, and I realize it is real.

This is sadness.
The sadness that only I can feel.
I can't do anything with this sadness.
Tell me if this sadness is not real!

Time by time, you came--
      One by one, you were so fun.
      What the hell, it's done.

I read all your poems you have written.
I love all that feelings you have given.
For all poets that I do not know you before, keep writing!
Keep your feeling be true!
The way you choose your life to be,
it can be real you will be.
I love the way you choose the word to be a poetry.
All your poems always make me happy.

You don't let me dream!
You dont' let me take my way!
This is full of scream!

On my head there's flame.
It will be exploded, ****!
Give me hold tight, then!

Two people are all the same
If you see them in one frame
But they have two sides
The one I guess have sit besides
Two people are all the same
I think that is I am
But another's hide
And also need a guide

But in the meantime
we must be content,
I say, to be misunderstood for a while.
We are all very anxious to be understood,
and it is very hard not to be.
But there is one thing much more necessary;
to understand other people.

Some people are mad
   here I am writing some lines
   that you never read.

If only a few poems could make you fall in love,
I would make them for you
all the feelings I put together;
just to tell you.
If only words were easier for us
to understand the feelings we experience,
If only love made everything less complicated,
And I don't have to reveal it.

I just want to
    be m  i  s         s  e   d.
I just want to  
be    l  ov     e  d.
I just want to
        be with y               ou
w he n I fe  el a      lone.

People are waiting for valentine's day
but I really miss valentine's date...

We have forgotten
who we are really looking for
when life doesn't hold on to dreams
then live it without love,
and people are getting busier
to see which place is the most comfortable for themselves,
among the boisterous people
vying to be someone else.

We have forgotten
who actually survives
of a life they call a journey
without understanding
where to go home
and they don't realize
that everything had gone too long.

We have forgotten
who actually fell first
when we don't achieve
everything we chase of
what we didn't have
in the first place;
dream,
hope,
love,
or even ideals,
and we feel
we are no longer worthy.

We have forgotten
that actually words
don't want to escape
from the collection of prayers
that we have recited
over and over,
even if it's repeated
we always insult
and berate ourselves.

We have forgotten,
the simplest way
to be a happy human.

We return those who leave
and do not belong to us
because we fail we never ordered it as the main goal.

What a beautiful word
If your dream will come true
And you realize you never sleep again
You will get what you want
Like your childhood playing with many toys in your room
O, let me play!
In this poem
I’ll play my word in my dream
I’ll play with you
In a bed
With a pillow
With a doll
With a sword
With a dream
With all my imagination
What a beautiful word
You are my dream
The dream of my world
Playing in playing out
My happiness will beat many sadness lines in the saddest word for the saddest world
O, let me play!
Let me play in a verse
Let me!
Let me!
You and me

What else are you crying
about the sadness of love
besides the way you got hurt again?

What is lost is never lost
They just are not there beside you
But they are in all the memories of your life
Your eyes may no longer see it
But your heart still feels its existence
Something so close that it can not be explained easily

What is lost is never lost
They just are not within your reach
But they are in all the memories of your life
Your hand may not be able to hold it
But you can still feel the warmth of his embrace
Something so calming that even a warm blanket and a fireplace can not be compared with

What is lost is never lost
They just moved
Going somewhere who knows
Even if you imagine it
You can never quite understand--
Even knowing
That what is lost is never really lost
Not really leaving either
And you do not need to search anymore
Or you regret it many times

I remember the days
when you talk more
while I prefer silence
and listen.
I remember the days
where the conversation
only happens through one side.
I remember the days
where words are warmer than a kiss
and hugs.
I remember the days
when you prefer to side with separation.
I remember the days
when you try not to remember me.
I remember those days.
And you no longer want to remember everything.

What’s the poet you can think,
And you never let me bring
The poet tells about the king
Whose death by ****** *******
And I tell that’s poet lying

What’s the poet you can love,
And you never let me involve
The poet tells about a dove
Whose wings broken by Jove
And I tell that’s poet drunken off

What’s the poet you can believe
And you never let me live
The poet tells about you
Whose love will get blue
And I tell that’s poet true!

I wake up at 1 a.m
There is nothing
This room is full of darkness
The light only leaves a little body for me,
for sure she is very ****, pure, and touches my eyes softly
The windows open
The wind blows my hair
I lit my last cigarette
This room is still full of darkness
I look around
I look outside from my window
The trees are too tall to see the tops
Too cold
Too quiet
Too heavy to every breath
This is the time that I love
When the night comes to my soul
I think this night is so scary,
But nothing is scarier than the thought itself,
It is so strong and real
Be ****!
I forget to buy cigarette stock for tomorrow
I **** myself
I **** nothing

Which is more *******;
puddle, or
memories?

on white paper
the ink sheds itself,
destroys all voidness,
writing appears,
something is read,
after your death you send it,
to the living
to always be told
from generation to generation.

Who am I in love with?
To you
What I can't have, forever

You are my unfinished poem,
for among us,
words
            have
                     chosen
                                   to
                                       go
                                            away
                                        to
                                   carry
                         their
                own
wounds.
Let's decide one more time.
Where do you put me back?

You you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you ypu you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you
don't exist. Find me.

You made me make up a new place on purpose
While I forgot how the feeling of being rebellious was
You made me make up a new place on purpose
When I was lost in the things that fed me up around first
You made me make up a new place on purpose
In the past time, I could hardly have wanted anything to do dangerous
You made me make up a new place on purpose
Filling it up the emptiness that makes me thirst
The long before happened
Why did you come when my eyes opened?
Since I first saw how you looked at that time
Your smile gives me support to do a crime
But it really makes me messy
Never mind and let it busy
I wish you were here
Getting happy with no fear

You make me fall in love alone all-day
But I was risen by the sun
I grow up with happiness and fun
When I fall in love again
I know the place I never get the pain
Every day you make me fall in love
By your beautiful shine
Staring at me
Until everything will be fine

Your body is a canvas
for love that spills out
in the lunge of longing.

And the night is a stopover
for my addiction
to you.

Today,
I was forced
to be lost by you.