I'm tired of trying to rhyme
Expired of the idea,
Dying from the expectation,
Crime of the uninspired poet
And I know it
I can show it
Just rhymes with no meaning
To it
Dying from expectation
Admire the man
With nothing to say
Only elation
Infinite relation
Sensation of the nation
Occasion of inebriation
I'm drunk off of education
No occasion for vacation
No sign and no direction
And dying from expectation
I'm tired of trying to rhyme

Hey
I just woke up
They call it "growing up"
But it doesn't feel right
It doesn't feel okay
Waking up to life is painful
Opening your eyes to what it is
To what it really is
I wanted just to sleep
My silly dream to keep
It was beautiful and good
It kept me all my childhood
It was better in my dream
It was like a shield of steam
Oh, reality is so not my thing
Let me sleep for little more
It's my life, don't make me hurt
Don't wake me up
Now, it seems, I can't fall asleep
Oh, reality is so not my thing
Let me sleep for a little more
Oh, growing up is so not my thing
If they call stupidity, a child
Then a child I would want to stay
Stupid and unknowing
Life to be like game
Oh, waking up is so not my thing
Let me sleep for a little more

Trees

I am a peculiar tree
Growing half in rock
And half in the sea

The winter winds do bother me
I need the spring to set me free

I envy ivy trees
So full of green

I can't stop the gale
But I can change my sail

Keith Wilson  Windermere Feb 22 2016

Every hello is a reason to come,
every goodbye is a reason to go back,
every kiss is a warm sip of love,
every embrace, a blanket on a cold night.

When my heart yearns and burns,
you're there to quench the fire.
When my mind wanders and aches,
you're there like a soothing choir.
I can't help but find myself helplessly falling,
entangled in my emotions, I'm silently crawling,
and when I leave you, I find myself stalling,
because I need you,
because I love you.

parting clouds over the field of wheat
split the gray into a sea of golden rays
bright enough to leave even the blindest man at his feet

passing wind slithers by  
carrying with it seeds and soft cries
tears from the protector of all the crop
the lonely scarecrow who stays planted
his tune the most melancholy of acoustics
a tranquil coffee shop

birds circle frightfully overhead
for they do not know their avoidance leaves the scarecrow all but dead
he who never meant any harm
but who's appearance raises cacophonous alarm

cursing the sky, the scarecrow shouts
yet, the scarecrow will soon get his wish
once his stump dries he will be free with the coming drought
so as the farmer prays for rain,
he questions God's whereabouts

Sliver pens,
Dancing like figures,
Or shadows,
In the dim light of a sunset,
Coursing across his skin,
He muttered cursed words,
Under his breath,
As a dragons roar,
Soft,
Yet cold,
Like Winter's night,
Or a cool breeze,
Blowing leaves from the trees,
Onto the ground,
The silver pens,
Soon turn red,
As the paint,
As called blood,
Flowed from his canvas,
His wrist,
The burning sensation,
The feeling,
Of being dead

The thought of suicide...
When you feel like that,
there's no where to hide,
and you'll never forget it.

It can break you,
or it can make you,
but please,

don't ever let it take you.

The sky is metallic grey
after it rained almost whole day
My heart feels like its sinking
Like the rain water in the depth of the earth
Longing for sunshine to touch my soul
that brings all the vigour,cheer and light
I know i am going to blossom just like the sunflower
all bright and glee