She was a lost and beautiful skeleton,
Caught looking at the sunrise,
Torn by images of him; like firelight,
They flickered in her eyes,
Burning; the smoke clouded blue skies.

He was a big and invisible boulder,
She kept heavy on her shoulders,
Her body trembling under the weight,
Her mind, riddled with love and hate.

But show your cat teeth to the lion,
And carry it no longer,
For with time, we’ll make it into sand,
So agreed, you’re keeping my hand.

Like a flower in a human skin coat,
You’ll wilt before you bloom,
Like a gardener in your colorful, cool, garden,
I’ll care for your tomb.
So keep your eyes on the sky skeleton girl,
Soon you’ll see the sun.

You were once a piece of me,
now, the 'you' in my poetry.

Maybe all the insane asylums are filled with Jesus's

and

Maybe all the churches are filled with maniacs.

and

Maybe all the schools are filled with dead beats

and

Maybe all the streets are filled with brainiacs.

and

Maybe businessmen are not in business chairs
     But hospitals instead.

and

Maybe doctors aren't lab rats in coats
     But witches beneath jungles.

and

Maybe all teachings aren't in books
     But in trees again.

and

Maybe all leaders are not statues
      But fell off the square edged earth.

and

Maybe politics is just what it seems
      *****-ish drunkards and rigged card games.

Magic exists all around us,
But so little even notice
Or bother to look for it
Angry beings,
Unable to find their own happiness.
Always looking for others to fulfill them
What a way to be
Forever dependent on others
Unable to find a purpose.
Unable to find their magic.