Black is all I see ,
For the world is made up of other colours,
Red , yellow, blue and green
But yet
All I see
Is the darkest shade of noir.
No matter how much I beleive
The world will always be black

I’m in the produce
aisle and the local
fortune teller is

hurling strawberries
at me, as she yells,
Wake up, we’re in for

a wild ride and we
won’t be the same
when it’s over! Then

she charges toward
me, nearly knocks me
over and gives me an

electrified kiss. This
is the time when
peasants harvested

wild strawberries, she
says, then laughs like
a broken church bell.

I found him late;
beautiful voice,
handsome face,
every sound I ever wanted
already sung.

He seemed kind.
Alive.

Then I read the ending.
So young.
So long ago.

And I just sat there,
stupid,
like it still mattered.

Sweet city girl
A diamond
loving pearl
Happiness in
Abundance
She puts me
In a whirl.
Eyes are like
Emeralds
A ruby for
A heart
She’s always a pleasure
A platinum treasure
Never ever cold
A wonderful
*** of gold
My sweet city girl
I did what I did
Because last time
You over charged
Me by £200 quid.

If you stop focusing on all the reasons why you can't do it,
you just may surprise yourself to see what you can do. Appreciate what you have, while you have it,
or you'll learn what it meant to you after you lose it.
@marknyangacha.

Is it worth all the worry,
The tension, the cost,
The poor sleep and fatigue,
The happiness lost.

The what if's or maybe,
Will it happen or not,
Worry is wandering,
It never will stop.

So learn to accept,
Your life is a scene,
A chapter, some improv,
On a three dimensional screen.

Those you will love,
And some you will lose,
Each day is a painting,
Worry works as my muse.