my days aren't good days
or bad days
they are just
days.

and they never stop
crawling forward
with me
trapped inside
them.

Is it not a wonder
how your emotions
stitch these words together
Like a well knitted sweater

Is it not inspiring
how your sadness
strengthens the ones reading
But you're still bleeding

Poets should fall
in love with
poets
Leave the rest to
appreciate their
poems

Is it not beautiful
the way your mind
crafts and creates imagery
Marrying imagination and reality

Is it not intelligent
the way your words
coalesce together
Your journals, chests of treasure

Poets should fall
in love with
poets
Leave the rest to
appreciate their
poems

Is it not charming
that you aim to
be different than the indifferent
societies past and present

Is it not valorous
that you strive to
rebel with just a pen
Deep within the lion's den

Your emotions deep, your heart is true
They read your writing but fail to read you

I reaffirm,
Poets should fall
in love with
poets
And
Leave the rest to
appreciate their
poems

Time is stagnant
I have tried
pushing all the buttons

It hasn't changed
for all my efforts -
this period tiresome

Gray skies
Not a drop of rain
Not a hint of the sun

This life is
too overwhelming
I'm ready for the next one

They left to
defend your honor
They left to
defend your shrine
The false promise
of your heaven
In their juvenile minds
Armed with evil
heavier than
their own weight
God,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead

They left to
defend our mothers
They left to
defend our wives
The passion burns
in their blood
To protect the last child
Shouldered with
the burden that
the uniform dictates
Minister,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead

There is a strange
turbulence in the air
The wind reeks
of wanton violence
I feel the same rage,
I feel the same pain
I yearn for peace
and risk your hate
With your answer
my mind might change
So,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead