Oh conscience,
this is where we must part.
I promise to keep your damage here in my thrice heavy heart.
Your guidance once illuminated a long and treacherous path
but the destination you had planned for me
has become too distant, far too embedded in the dark.

Oh lover,
I’ve done my best to keep myself,
I can’t believe it’s been this hard.
Because no matter what I say or do,
I’m the only one that gets torn apart.
And I’ve grown tired of these fiends,
vultures scavenging through the carrion heap,
so called friends looking for their fill.
Oh misery, you’re no company to keep.

Oh mother, if you could only see
what this world lost in the throes of avarice has done to me.
it has taken everything I had and erased the lines I drew upon the sand.
and I’ve worn myself thin trying to exist between them,
to find myself again.

Oh conscience,
this is where we must part.
But I promise to keep you, oh burden,
here in my broken, heavy heart.

Bread is the staple food of life
We feed and nurture the delicate shoots
Lest we have no bread in the future

Words are the future of poetry
We must nurture and care for those
Delicate gentle words
Lest they wither and die on the vine

A flower so grand
in itself, vivid in
details, following no pattern
like the leaves of the plant.

All the leaves are the same
but a single flower so distinct
one does and the other doesn't
add to the plant's fame.

In its life of just a day, it steals the show
and spreads so much happiness
though the leaves may, in silence keep low,
diligently work for air's cleanliness.


Even then it sticks to the branch
as its life is given by
the apparently dreary plant.
Here, all its coming generations
will choose to be born,
and this plant only will they adorn.

i wonder what its like
to have a guy who finds
everything he needs
in just my eyes.