Just like your handwriting
You’re a mess
You hide yourself
By cunning words
Trying to disguise how you really feel
But that’s okay
I see right through the facade
You are the type of guy
Who sometimes cries alone
In his room
The type of guy
Who teases and messes with girls
Making them feel awful
Because it’s hard to express how you really feel
You are the type of guy
Who never shows his inner thoughts
You don’t believe anyone will understand
The chaos in your mind
But that’s okay
I see right through it
I am the type of girl
Who’s willing to put
My heart out there
However
You are the type of guy
Who never sees
A girl like me.

I look into the mirror
And who is that I see?
Someone I don't recognise
Is looking back at me

The lines upon the forehead
That are called ‘worry lines'
Are caused by getting stressed
Far too many times

A line next to the right eyebrow
It’s the liver that's to blame
Due to excess alcohol
Or so the doctors claim

The line next to the left eyebrow
Is connected to the spleen
So much for thinking the body
Is like a finely-tuned machine

At the corner of both eyes
Are very deep crow’s feet
These are connected to all organs
As they admit defeat

We used to call them ‘smile lines'
But not much smiling has been done
When you have ill-health
Life is not much fun

Black bags under the eyes
Are signalling poor circulation
Or maybe just a lack of sleep
Nightmares without an explanation

The pancreas could be at fault
If there are ‘laughter lines'
But they could just be caused
By laughing numerous times

Lines above the upper lip
They could be caused by smoking
But they also indicate spleen trouble
Those lines are thought-provoking

Lines upon the neck
Otherwise known as a ‘double-chin’
Can be caused by too much gluten
Putting a thyroid in the spin

In the mirrors reflection
There are so many lines to see
Then I realise the person in the mirror
Yes, it’s me!

I dreamed of a small suburb house, living with my kids and spouse, but i missed my season to plant the seed that if it could sprout, I'd be so proud


Fall comes and goes now and now i fall to my knees, because the cold weather chills me to the bone it reminds me, you're gone and I'm alone.

I sit and stare at the night skies, watching the nights fade to dawn and knowing a the same lonely days have arrived, thoughts collide in and out and I just drown myself in the doubt and sorrow dreading that I have a tomorrow.

I reaped what I sowed and sold the bits of yarn for fools gold. God, its such an embarrassing story to be told and by the sounds of it, it's gotten old. I'm sick of the same old things playing over and over in my head, I'm sick of the things I've forced fed.

The dream of a small surburb house has turned into a dream of just an old house, abandoned and forgotten, the windows broken and the only thing that makes a noise is the howling wind through the cracks and crevasses.