Kids are cruel,
Realizing you'll never be a ladie's man,
Twelve years old,
Over looked, walked past as if I was laundry,
On the floor of a lackadaisical bachelor.

Questions begin to whirl,
Is it you? Is it me? Am I not physically capable?
See I am as beautiful as my confidence should make me,

Right?

Loneliness heavily consumes the boundaries of confidence.
Build your home on stone,
Raise your flag through the tools of war,
Be the loudest war cry so each maiden takes notice.

But I am not a soldier on the frontlines,
I am the poet, in the jail cell writing "The flag was still there."
Staring at the mounds of bodies of more able bodied men than myself,
Holding it in place.

Ramparts are the beating of my screaming heart,
Bullets sent straight from my mouth, tear through the flesh of those who find love to be aloof of,

What creativity truly means.

It means you watch from the sidelines,
While the quarterback walks away with the girl of your dreams,
Soldiers wear uniforms that gleam, sweeping a woman clear off her feet,
Bar fight heroes win her heart by never seeing defeat,
Drug dealers and users trap her with promises they could never keep.

Yet here I am, still sitting in my seat.

There's nothing wrong with making believe,
I guess I just find myself pondering,

It's probably me.
Who cares anyway?
Rest is a far away dream I can never attain.
Not to be ironic,
I mean sleep is a hard net in which the goal keeper has golden hands.
Fog rules my brain with an iron fist.
A job fit for a king
Who's tyranny rules over the kingdom where my bed exists,
Memories like film reels, keep tick tock ticking away,
Reminding me why my pain still lives,
or what her hair smelled like,
or my mother hiding her tears while we sat in the dark,
because the bill came and her wallet exhaled dust and not capital.

Counting sheep only shows each mistake I've made jumping over a fence that was built with the ingredients of my broken heart.
Each day is a mission, to keep my eyelids from slipping.
I drive away from all my problems while they have unlimited frequent flyer miles.
Beating me to each destination before I had the chance to say,

"I couldn't seem to sleep last night."
Learning.
  Dec 2017 Frank Sherwood
Iska
to me you are a star of gold
a glowing asterisk
I wish I could hold
though you seem so far away
I truly wish we could meet some day
but alas we shall only meet
through our words,
spilling and falling across this page.
we are the unseen family
bound by art
which is better
because we dwell in the heart
Frank Sherwood Dec 2017
Tremors, no one will guide you
Comfort in electrical hums,
More than love, more than warmth,
You finally love yourself.

As you watch the sun blind you behind the palm trees,
The thermal glow on your skin,
Clashing arguments of waves,
Countless grains outline the road maps of your toes.

You've learned to love again, not with someone else.
Of yourself,

Reflections no longer smell of hot garbage,
You're an A-list celebrity, starring in your own sitcom.

No need for others, heaven has a height

And it's you.
True beauty only comes when you realize the truth.

That happiness lies in perfect solitude.
Being comfortable with yourself, not too shabby.
Frank Sherwood Nov 2017
Corralling my senses,
Rolling slot machines,
Softly purring words that disintegrate into empty promises,
Forget it, I'll end up smoking alone anyway.

Know your worth, what you stand for
Even what you sit for,
My ass hurts from the concrete stoop you left me on
Just a pack of cigarettes?

It's the final word,
Finally focusing,
What brought me here in the first place.

Love lost, love gained, love dropped
For the bright lights of a Vegas skyline

"No", to answer your question

"We can't be friends."

The new one is a nurse,
Ironic really.
She can mend a broken being and a bone.
  Nov 2017 Frank Sherwood
JP
They’re all happy.
Inspired by Boku Dake ga Inai Machi anime.
  Nov 2017 Frank Sherwood
Cleo
Your expectations are a plate I cannot finish
I eat until I am full
Until I am sick
What they say is food
feels to me like poison
I try to leave the table
But my plate is still unfinished
Eat
But I am full
My stomach can not handle
The words you try to feed me
They are watching
Plates are empty
But their portions are smaller
Don’t you understand
It’s not possible
Anything is possible
Those words will bring more suffering
And I will eat them until I vomit
Every morsel of food expelled onto the table
The neatly folded napkins in disarray
The disdainful looks
What my body did to heal me
Is what lead them to disgust
I am now alone at the table
empty as I was
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