The beauty of a woman
is in the poems she's wrote,
the dreams she's weaved
and all the stories she's told.

The beauty of a woman
is in the adventures she's taken,
the lives she's touched
and all the minds she's awakened.

The beauty of a woman
is in the caring she gives,
the sincerity in her laughter,
and the passion in her griefs.

It's not the expensive clothes she owns,
her body size, the diamonds she's worn.
Measure not the beauty of woman in gold,
for the beauty of a woman is reflected in her soul.

It would be nice to have you right now beside me to fill the spaces between my fingers. But I know you are your own person and I cannot summon you any time I wish. So I’ll settle for thoughts of you and the uncertainty of when we’ll meet. And I’ll love you as the spaces between my fingers until you can fill them up again.

-D.D.

Their heartbeat does not define love
Their eyes do not define love
Their smile does not define love
Their presence does not define love.

What does define love is
Their actions - do they dare to leave something just for you?
Their sacrifices - do they dare to take chances eventhough the chances of both of you to last is unpredictable?

Love is when you do anything in the moment although you could not control fate.
Love is when you take that leap of faith and risk something.
Love is when you feel it is worth it to let them take something from you.
Love is when you feel you want to spend the rest of your life with them.

The snake hisses and slithers
Right into your mind
It fills you with wants
And fills you with dreams

The snake coils around your brain
And before you even realize
The snake has captured control
Of what you determine as your life

It bites when you deviate
It crushes when you try
It slowly kills
Any of you left inside

This snake, it's unwelcomed
But we grow accustomed
To the control of the snake
And yield to it's command

Few leave the snake, there is
No escape
And when there is none of you left
The snake slithers away
To find someone else

There is a snake
In everyone
There is a snake
And no way out

Abraham Lincoln,
His hand and pen:
He will be good but
God knows When.