The heart pumps blood,
And blood is red.
There’s a flow of affection.
But my love is dead.

Clicheic poetry.
The quote is a poem.
I thought it was there.
I thought I was home.

Why not her? I asked.
The answer I seek.
Do I get the truth?
Or is this trick or treat?

I know it exist.
I can’t give up.
Even though there are
Times where I can’t trust love.

There’s pain in this game.
Can I truly win?
Got soul? Got Milk?
Is the drive within?

The worth, the value.
Is it priceless? Or trash.
Is she real?  Is she treasure?
My desirable stash?

How hard do I try?
To make her feel like a
Blessing?
How long do I wait before
I pop the big
Question?

Why can’t she have my mind?
She’s on it all the time.
These thoughts make actions.
They influence these rhymes.
What about my body?
And all its thrills?
Every time I want to hold you,
I feel a special chill.

You’ve got me going crazy.
Insane with goose bumps.
Every day I don’t hear you.
I’m a sad dump.

I want you happy, joyful.
No sadness or regret.
Here, you can have my heart,
But what do I get?

A heart crushed
Craves love

Yet it can no longer
Trust

My love is irrational.
I can’t explain it.
I’m sick as a dog.
And can’t contain it.

I can’t hide it.
Nor hold it.
I won’t dent it.
Neither controls it.

Still, she knows me.
She knows my ins.
She knows my outs.

She knows the lies.
The whys and denies.
She knows my doubts.

She’s the Guinevere
To my Lancelot.
She is my own.

She’s the reason
Why I even despise
Being alone.

She’s so special
She’s got my world.
Every rhyme
Every line
Every thought.

Time’s for her
Plans are with her
She’s my cain
She’s my staff
And all I’ve got

It’s sensational
Inspirational
She’s the queen
I want to hold.

She’s my fire
My passion.
She’s my timeless tale
Of the purest of gold.

She’s the peace, I’m to seek.
A goal, I want to reach.
That jab straight to the gut.

She’s the one, my only one.
With a nectar’s taste.
A taste that even I can not touch

Can I take your hand?
Will it say something?
If I gazed into your eyes,
             Will it mean nothing?

With my hands on your waist,
Does my desire come true?
Can you see how strong I love?
And what I feel for you?

All the things I’d do.
I’d rock you to sleep.
We’d feel Heaven’s touch.
As the house wouldn’t make a peep.

My romance is fluent.
Like Spanish from a Spanish man.
Do you trust my promises?
As easily the glass allows time with sand?

My lips kisses are clean,
As they grace upon your neck.
You make me shiver in the nerves.
Your voice causes that effect.

I can’t sleep at night.
I want to call you all the time.
I want to write you poetry.
Even if it doesn’t rhyme.

So will you be my Queen? My Goddess?
Can I Love you in a magical Land?
Will you be in my life? My wife?
My love, can this ring hold your hand?

When the future looks bleak,
And it’s a long ways to walk.
Your best friend’s are these sheets,
And there’s no one there to talk.

Empty thoughts,
Depressing dreams,
Fighting tears,
Demonic schemes.

Storms get louder.
The lightning flashes.
Thunder’s taken over.
My strength, it passes.

What’s happened to me?
Why do I want to die?
What’s this I wear?
This pain, that makes me hide.
The pillow that cover’s my face.
That acts as a pencil to erase.
Why do I want no one to say?
Or anyone to know a trace?

It’s cold out there.
Even with this coat.
No scarf, no hat won’t help.
No matter where it’ll breeze.
Word’s make the difference.
You’re ugly will freeze over Hell.

Life’s won again
And again.
No friend
That’ll understand.
The pain that kills me.
The depression will be.
Like a knife that cuts my hand.



So like Robert Frost
Will my life be predestined?
Has my fate, my hope, been chosen?
Which path will I cross?
Is it light? Is it truth?
Or is it cold? Is it frozen?

That Jolt.
That spark.
It makes it's way
To the heart..

That frown upside down.
Eventhough I don't know you,
Thank you. We're family.

Where’s my Queen?
Does she lay dormat?
Amongst the rubble?
Does my queen survive?

Or is she in a Dream world?
Full of hunny and flowers.
To where does my queen lie?

Is she my dream girl?
Should our paths ever cross?
Or is the fantasy truly lost?

Is our concourse an action?
Is our love a connection?
Should there be a resurrection?
Or is instilled inside a blessing?

From whom gets the reaction?
It can’t be a silly attraction.
So for whom the bell tolls?
Or is she a simple distraction?

Is she my fire? My desire?
That passion? That spark?
A Fade? A second of love?
An arrow that hits the mark?

My love, you rule.
Yet it you remain to be seen.
Still I’ll search for you.
The beauty that is my Queen.