Don't care
     what you say.
I'll go
     my own way.

My poetry is thought unbridled.
It exists to exist and is simply nothing more.
I, the speaker rare, write thoughts when I dare,
before they, streaking by, are never to be reminisced.
The gods of my words strike as lightning, quick and strong,
leaving me stunned, thunderous resound within my mind,
but these titans of colossus thought are too strong to be snared and restrained
Then fate would have it, with grace they do appear but...
the sylphs are marred by the scars of these glyphs.
And so, I'm left with the mortal drabble,
the fragments of a various whole.
They exist as I exist and are simply nothing more.

I hold my hand to the window pane
and hope somewhere you do the same.
I watch the stars as they watch over you
and wonder if you watch the same stars too.

I'm sorry
people are not the best
I'm sorry
you feel hopeless
I'm sorry
you still feel pain
I'm sorry
you get caught in the rain
I'm sorry
life's not fair
I'm sorry
people just don't care
I'm sorry
you stub your toe
I'm sorry
you made a new foe
I'm sorry
people treat you wrong
I'm sorry
your suffering's long
I'm sorry
you're lost and don't know the way
I'm sorry
the world makes the innocent pay
I'm sorry
there aren't enough who say
I'm sorry

The boy who laughed has lost his smile,
the tears pool, the eyes glare
His hopes and dreams blurred,
clouded by the youth of his mind and age.
One day he will learn, as we all have,
one day he will smile and laugh again,
one day he will predict his own maturity.

This flash in the pan...
belongs in the can.

anxious, anxious, i wait and wait,
hoping for someone to take the bait.
i fidget and dawdle, but to no avail.
sometimes i wonder if i'm in hell.
it would make more sense
to be under the devil's lens
than to wait, wait, and wait,
hoping someone takes the bait.