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584 · Jul 2015
Special Kind of Love
Alex Stavros Jul 2015
I love you.

I love you because every morning you whisper softly in my ear that it's time to wake up.
I love you because I look into your eyes and see the light that reminds me that someone is thinking about me.
I love you because when I'm lost you are right there to set me on the right path.
And God knows you can send me on a wild ride, but in the end you always get me where I need to be.

I love you.

I love you because when I'm bored you always have some way to entertain me and make me happy.
I love you because when I'm down you always have a funny video or goofy song to make me smile again.
I love you because when I need to sing or shout at the top of my lungs you are always ready to listen.
And God knows I'm out of key the whole time but you still never complain about my voice.

I love you.

I love you because whenever I'm not with you I feel like a piece of me is missing.
I love you because when you are running out of energy I can always get you charged up.
I love you because no matter how much I ignore you, you never leave my side and always love me back.
And even when I'm looking at others and weighing my options you just quietly stay by my side ready to talk.

I love you.

I love you because whenever I forget something important you are there to remind me.
I love you because anytime I get angry you aren't afraid to step in and take it until I'm happy.
I love you because when I want you quiet you listen and when I want you loud you step right up.
And no matter what I do to you, you never leave or judge me in any way.

So I love you. I can't live without you...

I mean without you, cell phone, I just wouldn't know what to do.
This was the first poem I ever performed for a group. Had them almost in tears...one way or another.
425 · Jun 2015
It Could Always Be Worse
Alex Stavros Jun 2015
My mind wont race.
My body wont feel cold.
My heart wont drop everywhere I go.
My soul wont seem far away.
My laugh wont seem fake.
My words wont seem empty.
My world will not stop turning...
...when you are gone.

My mind is blank.
My body is numb.
My heart is already on the floor.
My soul is gone.
My laugh is quiet.
My words can't get out.
My world has been destroyed...
...now that you are gone.
Just that feeling when you think you are strong enough until it all falls apart.
386 · Jul 2015
A is for Art
Alex Stavros Jul 2015
Always when I awkwardly approach art, I apprehensively attempt to alert all.
Announcements of my alluring achievements and aloof accomplishments assault any who will listen.
I apologize.
I arrived at an appreciation for my avenue of alleviation all of a sudden.
It isn't about acclaim and applaud but about acceptance and atonement.
I cant accost the arrival of inspiration and abruptly antagonize creativity.
I must analytically appear appreciative.
Then apply my apparent thought to appropriate means of sharing.
I admit that I'm not altogether sure how any of my writings make a bit of sense.
Although, I do love they are all mine.
This poem brought to you by the letter ***
373 · Jul 2015
P is for Poetry
Alex Stavros Jul 2015
I could pen a pretty poem without putting personality in it.
I could pretend I was a poet and publish it praying that people like it publicly.
A pretense of perseverance and pressure precluding this precious gem will get profane applause.
Petty pioneers of the art may place their hands together in a proclamation of performance and purity.
But personally I will push all praise or prize past my growing head because I know, pathetically, I didn't peruse my mind.
The laziness is palpable.
The roughness is plain.
The boredom is pure.
This poem was produced in a paltry handful of minutes.
Will it persevere? Or pass out?
Please. Don't pander to my pragmatic assumptions.
Place your own price.
Peers! Press me towards perfection.
This poem was brought to you by the letter P.
333 · Jul 2015
Untitled
Alex Stavros Jul 2015
My friend told me I wasn't black

I asked her why is that

She said I acted way too white

I was frozen where I sat

Here was someone deep with thought

Whose views on me were bleak

I asked her to explain her view

Her explanation was weak

She told me that I was too smart

In every word I spoke

And when she talked about my clothes

I almost began to choke

I was, to her, overly educated

To be considered black

After this we never spoke

And I will not look back

If all I am to you is a cookie cutter

Example of a race

Then I would rather not know you

And never see your face

You will not define the title of

The person I will be

There is only one that can make that claim

And that human is me.
True Story...
310 · Jun 2015
Introduction
Alex Stavros Jun 2015
A wild thought had crossed my mind.
Mastery is just practice and time
So for the sake of my own brain
I thought I'd share this mental train
This is my intro to all the world
So come back for more boys and girls
299 · Jun 2015
Fathers day
Alex Stavros Jun 2015
I forgive you for missed basketball games, not playing with model trains, not being there to keep me tame.

I was a wild child and loose on the run with only my mother trying to rein in a sun.

I shone bright but at night the clouds would hover in tight so dark they needed my warmth to survive.

And like that I strived. I lived holding it in and never to give a single complaint as a kid.

A man without men looking to women as friends because he could understand them better.

Worse off at relationships, needing to be held tight every night in place of a night light.

The darkness is a scary place after all and it can be such a long fall when you try to stand tall.

Short end of the stick doesn't quite apply because I was raised by a wonderful woman.

Never needed a man, only wanted a boy, to hold and love as her own everyday.

I never can show enough appreciation for a woman so wonderful who warmed me from my very soul.

So this is all to say that the lack of your spirit for a time made me fear it
this life as a failure of a man with no clear hints

That I'm doing ok and I wont go astray because the support of my mother is much more than I could pray

She raised me alone and don't get it wrong because she adopted me young both parents were gone.

So thank you Momma, you were put to the test, and I swear this heart will beat out my chest for the one and only the very best.

I love you.
Just a thought I had during fathers day. My mother was both roles for me and worked hard to raise me right.

— The End —