I saw someone today
and he looked like you
I thought about
saying that to him
but I realised that
he doesn’t care that
he looks like you

he doesn’t care that
he looks like a boy
who I once was close to
who had to leave
who is so far away
and who I miss very much

he doesn’t care that
he looks like a boy
who was very sad a lot
who had a troubled mind
who wrote poetry
and I miss very much

he doesn’t care that
he looks like a boy
who left me
who never said goodbye
who killed himself last june
and who I miss very much

Negotiating with ******

You can't.
Even if,
He disguises himself as
Bashar-al-Assad,
Taliban,
Al Shabaab,
Hassan Rouhani,
Or that ole mass murderer,
Now not such a bad guy,
We could left him alone,
Cause he didn't have WMD,
Saddam Hussein,
He just mass murdered,
The old fashioned way.

They thirst for the blood of mine.
And when satiated, they will come for you.
There will be no Mass said
Over our mass graves.

Do not pretend to lead,
When all you seek is avoid.
The historians will seek you out
And label you coward, Chamberlin.

Shall we meet at the soccer stadium
Called Ghazi, for some ice cream
And a public execution or two?
Let's make it a woman, for the extra satisfaction?

A perfect place, conducive for relaxed negotiations!

Woe us/me, when our moral compass points only
Downward,
Into the bloodied earth,
Where we will soon enough be buried too.

Mother am I beautiful?  No, you are pretty, just pretty....

Little girl behind the old rocker, in the corner of the living room.
So very quiet, so very sad.
So often forgotten and never listened to.
"Oh, she is just shy and a real momma's baby".
What a shame, she has no voice. Are you sure she's okay? You know....

The prison of silence they put her in.
Each cutting word stole more of her voice each day.
One day she just gave up and her voice was silenced to all.
Words were never  uttered in her prison of silence.

Each day she stayed a little longer in her own little world.
She tried to make it perfect but sadness would creep in
and her unheard tears would flow again.
Somehow she made it through her young years,
and grew up into a woman or so they thought.

Little girl still hurt, silent tears still flow.
And a smile that hides more pain
that you could ever know.

To the would be
beauty princess
who was almost  
a would be Beauty Queen
But was not quite good enough
This is a would be poem
to all the
would be
pretties
if they weren't so unique
to the few
would be
rockers
if they could stand up and be talkers
to all the would be
intellectuals
if all they said was factual
This is a would be poem
to all the would be's
who couldn't be
who shouldn't be
So please tell me
Why
all of these would be's
are never
Will be's
Or even
Have beens
because even that is still better than
Never tried
Or even
Unknown's
Because sometimes the worst thing is
Not knowing
Having no idea of what would've been
instead wondering what
could've been
So this is a poem to the would be
lovely pageant girls
who could've had the world
but were sat down and told
by someone too old
that the world is too cold
and they would never
Make it
Fake it
Break it
break the idea of different
make the change
This is to all my would be brothers and sisters
Who don't have
Can't have
Who never had
The Chance
become
**I am's

A wind so strong it stripped the Putrid from sky.
Stripped the Dead from their light.
Stripped the Silence from night.

It carried their Souls.
As Easy as leaves.
Greed bleeds the flowers Green.

The toll of War is cold.
Only meadow holds Peace.
But Peace without doubt,
Cannot be relief.

Screams
             Purge
Haunt
             Earth

A wake brings Sleep.
A Dark new day.
Deaf ears so Meek.
As Quakes lay waste.

A Wind so strong it pulls, not pushes,
The Whispers of warriors and their Flags, before this.
Knocks on the doors and calls to their ******,
Like Poison dripped to the Bottom of a Bottle neck; Sonorous.

A Fever like Fervor,
A Mist that once knew Her,
A Glass that's now Empty,
On a Sunset spelled ******.