I write through the words I could not speak,
for every teardrop, lying on her lonely lips;
she is my sunset before night comes awake,
she is my poetry, in my dreams, when I sleep.

I write on the silence embraced by the night,
for every hope, foresee but strength to move;
I cast myself away from the shadows of life,
she is my poetry, in my eyes, when I love.

I write those heartaches she tried to seclude,
for every doubt, which ever maimed her feet;
she is a one perfect love story to be told,
she is my poetry, in my grave, on my death.

"Oh, my sweet bode,"
Said the ladies' favoured son.
It's a sweet surrendered code,
For the forsaken shoddy one.

"Go away from me quickly"
he whispers with weary haste
the plague made the ladies sickly
For the forsaken shoddy waste.

"I refuse to willfully reply,"
Were his lover's listed words.
T'was a refusal to comply,
For the forsaken shoddy swords.

"I now stand poorly inflicted"
He choked with tempered love
His worst fear now depicted
For the forsaken shoddy above.

*in calibration with Miss Anndette Wanderlilly

If I am to die today
to live last hour and pass away
to end a gift I did receive
a chance at pain and joy and greed.
Then the thoughts inside my head would die
my secrets, loves, my thoughts and lies.
And that is why I'm writing this
a poem to express my wish
to let you know the things you shouldn't
so when I die my life it wouldn't.
My life would live in knowledge kept
in things that others wouldn't let
people know about their lives
their secrets, loves, their thoughts and lies.

Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth
someone once said to try and sooth
the truth they hid from all the rest
who ignore the art, who aren't impressed.
You see poetry is more the art
of uniting truth with what's in heart,
be that pleasure, pain, pride or glory
it's all expressed in one short story.
Such as this about my thoughts
for when I die I think I ought
to let you know my boring story
about my pleasure, pain and glory.

The problem is you see I can't
find a story to enchant
that does not lie, distort the truth
that would not make a better youth.
For now I've realised if I die
today, tomorrow I'd have to lie
to be remembered, kept it thought,
that's something I was never taught.
At last I know what I'm to do
to be remembered, and be true
I'd have to tell you things I shouldn't
so when I die my life it wouldn't
be forgotten, as with rest;
I'd be at peace, completed quest.