This is western society,
How much is distorted realism?
Talk in sinister sexism,
Casually call criticism,
Typecast fashion femmes,
What about men?
High heels or no,
They'll call you a **!
You can't blame women,
For control mechanisms!
Emotional blackmail,
A world run by males,
We should empower the young,
For their lives in the sun,
When was misogyny begun?
Any real chance of equality,
in our western society?

My love for you is like my heart.
You won't be able to see it,
but it's there,
beating silently.

One day
I'll write poetry that
does not echo in his honor,
or shatter hearts like his hands
so unforgivably did.

But unfortunately,
and as misfortune may have it,
these words still breathe for him.

The voices in my head
They speak all the time
I know them all so well
They complain, they whine
Yet amongst the sneaky *******
I know not, Which ones mine

Do souls search for the light when they die because they never found it on earth?.
Why do we appreciate and celebrate a life gone when it was already there to love?,
we just never took the opportunity.

A list of "to do's' and chores becomes a list of regrets,
because we never really saw what matters most,
Life, while it is still searching for something here.