At 5, her smile was bright,
Which soon burned out like a fading light.
Made some friends, lost some more,
Tried being happy with a heart so sore.

At 13, she caked her face,
To fit in a world which was a maze,
Was called a ***** for trying hard,
Pierced her heart like a game of dart.

At 17, she found a love,
Thought she found a pure white dove.
Love was lust and shattered her,
He left her like a toy mere.

At 21, everyday she cried,
She ain't living, she just survived.
Wore a white gown, took a piece of blade,
Soon the white gown whole turned to red.

fields of lavender
as far as the eye can see,
in rows of scented purple
growing insatiable idiosyncrasies,
our minds are a rich, deep soil
and the children of our thoughts
run free,

run free
and light,
run free
and careless,
like a river to the sea.

the heart is programmed
to be broken,
to let in the light,
and the earth in us is woken,
our heart will open,
it will open,

when we take in our first
breath of this heaven.

We are God's chosen few
All others will be ******
There is no place in Heaven
for you
We can't have Heaven crammed

(Now change Jonathan Swift's name with America's Billionaires)

i'm sitting in a corner,
blue as a flower,
saying a prayer.

that room

I ve written
about that room, above the bar, often.
that there were shadows,
no windows,
but I really don't remember?
window, no window?

but whenever i tried to look up
there was the angry sky
chasing hope around narrow streets          

and those bits and ripples
of rain long asleep

casting shadows across
windows distant,
down my window pane.

do you ever think of me?

(written while sitting in a dark room
starring into a rain splashed window).