words and whispers
are just the same
im numb again
like the number
on the scale
that rises and falls periodically
i will never be enough

In our hurry to disgrace the next generation
we often forget that we were once of their age
and we were once as driven
and as determined
to live in a better world.

The slenderness of the delicate letters
The softness of the deep-meaning words
Painted on a snow white paper.
The Silver Poet sits under the dim light
Of the mystic star-knitted universe.

Closing the eyes he feels a crystal tear
Rolling down like a raindrop on the glass
Falling into eternity, dropping on the snowy paper.
The Silver Poet is shivering but has no fear.

The words he limns flow like a pure river
Down the mountain slopes leaving its path
An everlasting mark which will never vanish
The poem comes alive when the Silver Poet breathes.

He takes out his Golden Heart to accomplish the poem
And gives his wondrous soul for the sake of the rhythm.

The poem is ready to become another bright star
Knitted carefully around the Silver Poet's Golden Heart.

covered by thorns and hidden by vines
but you’re still attracted to the light
that reflects from my broken sides
you want to swim alone tonight
but I know you’d let me hold you down
Velvet rose petals and shattered glass don't mix but still you’ll love me anyway
despite the scars I've left on you
you’d lay with me
on dead grass
and let me point out your fading colors
you’ll excuse my relentless attempts
to bury you under ground.
“you're destructive
and reflective,
I see myself in you”
As my ridges rip you to shreds you stay with me,
a ****** mess and a lonely swimmer,
another garden destroyed
with wasted raindrop tears