I scribbled my thoughts at the side of my ****** nose;
Skipping each meal as I breathe the same air from a decaying limb;
Shattered and rumbled, gabbled by a selfish tied leash;
It was I who run, run to the safest route to my swarthy thought of you;
Dangled on the same shift of blues;
I dressed on a tanned linen skirt with my pale blue shades;
I drowned you;
I drown and stared at the mirror;
I was pestered she called me again;
Shouting my not so popular name;
I fixed my head and walk slowly;
Slowly to the path of secrecy;
I was not alone;
I was writing inch by inch I came near;
I waffled myself and fought a giant fleece;
And fought so hard that I lose and flea;
Words domain my ingenious head;
Clocks are ticking vomiting heads;
Tick tock sounds of the hands of time;
Pursuing each opportunity to pass the line;
Our shadow’s fade on the dark desert high way;
T’was our self-hiding each fail;
O’ what a flimsy thought I’ve become coherent;
Slowly I’ve been dancing,
Dancing through the meadows of green;
I’m losing the same soul;
Wounded, dazzling and grieving;
Staring slowly;
Becoming one with the nothing;
As I’m soothing my wounds I’m slightly absorbed;
By my ****** hands.

Alas lad, ‘tis ere not gone, dwell not thy comrades
For weeping hands might perish
and ol’ people yearn more years
For thee time hath come, and death shall flee’
Life ere hath destroyed yer’ near navy.

Yer’ lad hath wrote a sad sonnet’
A sonnet twas’ once loved
Doth lil’ hearts hold twice thy dime’
Not pleaded, each cries
Have heard!

I
So as not to speak
As words are here to poison
The miserable heart it has chosen
I bind not blindeth on wher’s I laid my heart’s end

II
T’was a mischievous song and a sweet scent
Alas the end is near and neareth shall I bind thee
So as to beset someone to collect my reality
As I gain strength to give my covert sentiments

III
Bewitched by the eyes of nigh ol’ amour
Whispers of greatness thee angels sinking deeply
Drowning on savagery as I was scrapped dearly
T’was nigh my ol’ amour death shall devour us

IV
Alas the end is near
A ******* shanty promise
Longed and forgotten
Is it I who will bid farewell?

V
I, a scared entity
A coward, nay I say doth I could ne’er speak such sentiments
Forget me and leave me be

VI
I, a living entity but nearly death has taken me
Doth already poisoned my heart’s hope
If I could love, says the ol’ lad
I do, I do keep my sentiments at bay

I abhor it everyday

I
Sole promenade near the structure;
The faeries sat on the decker;
The Sheer folly maimed the venture;
Her wings fluttered with warm water;

II
Stared at the bridge for so long;
This ol' lad meandering away;
Dreams are doused in glum of thine song;
Whilst I'm drenched down at the subway;

III
Left unguarded hearts were broken;
Lines admonish to stop the pain;
Her face veiled and words unspoken;
Left dreaming of the midnight rain;

IV
The craft's light gradually dies;
O' indeed What a flimsy thought;
The tide's low and the tide's high;
This Brooklyn Bridge is where I fought;

I dreamt of a pale gloomy tree;
Soft puddled mud consuming the summer’s heat;
Somewhere from the heart of a woman;
Whose life hath ended to a wee-cup of sorrow;
No She saith with hindrance,
She cannot say no to a dearly beloved;
But she felt the less she cared;
She will have independence;
As soon as she flew with the singing trees;
And ocean shimmered with white pebbles;
Like yonder dreams cannot abhor;
Like waters drift closely to the rivers and lake;
She willingly accepted doth reverie will never stay;
Palms sweat of fear;
Tears flow down her pale skin;
She sang a sad farewell;
And inch by inch she slowly fades,
O’ this life’s too cruel to left a woman;
Scarred with nonsense;
She laughed and walked;
Until she loses herself slowly;
She skipped each bit of dancing bells;
She smiled and saith this is my end;

I’m a person; whilst riding the bicycle of my dreams;
Floating and drowning in a deep blue ocean;
I cannot breathe;
My words don’t mean a thing to people who do not speak;
I’m not an eloquent speaker;
I mostly find a way to escape;
I do not want to face people;
Palm by palm as I sweat fear;
Are these thoughts too personal?
A question slightly beheading me;
Are these thoughts a legend, perhaps a theory;
A paradise lost;
I, I want to become a poet;
I’m a colorful; grey person;
I do not share and intend to laugh with people;
But I inhibit people’s life;
I shred myself to empower their thoughts;
I do not sound worthy;
My thoughts are too poisonous;
I might die;
I soon become the air I breathe;
I’m strangled by my own demons;
I’m too vague;
I stand at the pit of my insanity;
Dreaming of violence once created by me;
These rambling words;
Goes on and on;
But these words are not yours

I woke up late to catch the frightening bus;
Who accommodates billions of passenger just to get to their destination;
This happens inside the loop of time,
The sound of the underpass felt like I was inside the cathedral;
Seeing straight faces with no reaction at all;
I asked myself if these are the same people I saw yesterday;
The echoing sound of their footsteps lead me to consciousness;
Asking myself, do I really belong here?
Do I really need to do this?
The echoes from the cathedral made me feel bad about myself;
And cut off my confidence once again;
I realized that everyone works hard just to get to the top;
And here I am feeling so worthless;
A failure to my parents;
And I just wanted to end my life;
Because I always compare myself to others;
Searching what lacks in me;
So I started walking like what other people do;
Mimicking their movements like a professional;
Standing straight, chin up;
Breathing the same air and feels empty inside;
Am I really happy with the setting of the story?
I felt nauseous, I thought I was gonna throw up;
The welcoming step of the entrance cut the trance that I was in;
The greetings of the unfamiliar faces;
Dazed me into a robot of fear;
They once obliged me to be like this and not to be like that;
Weekdays I get to be the one wearing the fancy clothe;
They say you’ll look more professional and everyone will respect you;
Information that frustrates me;
I wanted to become myself again;
Freedom was lost because of me;
My fear, my lack of confidence to present the one who hides;
Who hides inside this charade;
This charade that gave every yonder stars the regret;
We’ve wasted our life doing things we don’t like.

If I was a dress;
I will cut myself;
If I was lion;
I’ll roar like a monster;
If these threads are worn out;
I might cut again;
My life is a puzzle;
My mind is a labyrinth;
My endless lies;
O’ this poem’s about me?
It’s a tragic accident;
I’ve gone too pale;
My blood dries up;
By the midnight rain;
My skin’s decaying;
I’ve gone too far;
Maybe this is my end;
I’ll take a bow.