She was an unheard melody
An unwritten love letter
You sang her out loud
You destroyed her words

I want back what I have lost.
To be whole once more,
To find the piece that fits.
I can't feel much;
But what I can,
Is just enough
To get up again.
The hope that tomorrow,
I'll find someone new,
To help me place the pieces;
To show me love again

Young dumb and stupid
She was beautiful,  smart and exquisite.
But at the same time hurt, naive, and in love.
She gave her all to someone who didn't even know how to love himself
She learned him, changed for him, she made him her life
Only in return to receive hurt, guilt and strife
Sitting and crying ever ******* night
No exit, no escape, besides the metal of that beautiful, shining exquisite knife.
She was young dumb and stupid.
Wrong. She was young, dumb, and scared.
She gave up who she was, she gave up her life
For a man who didn't even love himself.

I have this friend across the pond
As bright as clear-night stars
Intelligent and talented
And faster than souped up cars

But she has her flaws, alas
As all the best poets do
I know this to be a fact, of course
Who hasn't got one or two?

After all, it has to be said
Perfection is lack of character to me
So I'm keeping my eye on my talented friend
And watch as her mind flies free

                                                By Phil Roberts

my small frame always had no place in your wandering eyes.
you dream of unmapped universes – endless seas and abstract love.
but i was stumbling in the little things:
        all of our moments and our lack thereof.

you waltzed through the days, the months and the years
you sought sunsets and moon phases in an endless chase
but i was left begging after the seconds,
for another moment in your embrace.

to you i am but a dismissive sentence in your explorer's log,
               a grain of salt in a desert of sands.
but to you i will dedicate stanzas and lines –
all the prettiest adjectives for our abandoned wonderlands.