I'm not one to play a name game
But sometimes it's a necessary pain
When the next leader of your countries name
Is more known for fame
Than his Political game

Now my mind wouldent be in pain
If the names he named
For his cabinet weren't insane

He is a political stain
Who rubs the whole world against the grain
For his own political gain
With out caring on who he places the strain

Of staying sane
Without pain
With enough leftover for today's grain
So my life dosent go down the drain

Don't you see.

He is naming names
Without a clear end game
And when he has had his fame
The world will be left dying and in pain

I've dipped my pen in the ink well of love
And calligraphied my way into your heart

I've spent hours timing a rhyme so you could be mine this time

With my left hand I grabbed ahold of courage so with my right i could ask for yours

I would write my own eulogy if that's what it took to win you

You know last time I wrote about you
Last time I stated your parting wish
To not come after you again

I hope you forgive me
I've never been good at making wishes come true, but if you do
You could make mine come true instead.

I don't know if I know you yet,
I'm only 19 after all.

I don't know if I've made you laugh,
But I can already hear it now.

I've probably made you smile,
I'm sure it made my day.

I probably even once have made you cry,
I hope it was forgivable.

I know one things for sure,
Future wife.

I already love you.

If you shatter me you could see right threw me.

If you cared to look, you would find
The decay of my heart manifesting on the floor.

If you cared to look you would see my hands,
Drawn thin and white knuckled

Grasping

Grasping for you

---

A nest of small tinder laying in a blackened pit,
Surrounded by large blocky logs

A small spark-
So small even the tinder barely feels it,
Prods itself deep into the nest.

It grows it's own angry roots,
It flickers them up the pile,
It consumes the nest in its
Small chance of survival.

It is overbearing.

So let me dash the fire with my fist-
Inhale the aroma of a chance-
Burn myself upon my hope.

---

A lost boy wanders in the woods,
Hoplessly lost without a clue what to do
He wanders eternally.

---

A young woman is curled upon her run down sofa,
Numbly wondering why his name can't get out of her head

She likes him
A lot
She just can't bring herself to spark a fire
She won't call his name
She closed herself off...
Again
-

A young man sits dumbfounded on the floor in the center of his room.
He can't understand why,
Why she won't feel the same

His passion is tender and transparent and his hope is ever-grasping

His soul is lost without guidance
His heart is lost without love.

-

So why must our love be broken my sweet...

I'm not a gentlemen I'm a thief.

Just ask my beloved
She knows how it is,

At a young age I courted her,
I pursued her,

I told her how her eyes were the full moon
Glistening  in the night
Full of mystery and curiosity.

I convinced her that her voice was smoother than fresh honey,
And sweeter than any sugar candy.

I breathed into her the fact that
I, am in Love with her.

But I didn't do this as a gentleman.

Nay.

I did this as a theif.

My goal was not to get her heart but to steal it instead,

No heart should be freely given but instead stile away by a craftsmen worthy of stealing it.

So I stole the world's most pressious gem,

I tossed her into the get away car with
Campbell's soup cans tied to the back of it
Neat handwriting spelling
J-U-S-T M-A-R-R-E-I-D

We raced across the streets hair billowing in the wind and smiles and hands held together
So that no one else may steal either of us.

So no,
Sonnet number 23 beauty is you
Written by me
Is not the act of a gentleman,

It is the act of a thief
But one that will never steal again.

Ignorance breeds in the homes of those unwilling to educate themself

With my pen i will bleed ink from the sky as a purging rain upon society.

With each Stroke of my pen I display a chasm upon the meaty flesh of society.

I will stab my pen into society
As an endothermic needle
Under the yellowed skin of the addict
Except I will inject a cure

I will tear society from its roots and watch it burn around me

I will photograph the perfect screams of
Racism Prejudice and Hate for my kids to see

Then I will bestow a seed into the ground in which a new world may grow.