there was a purple penguin a funny chap was he
for a purple penguin is something you dont see
he was very different he wasnt black and white
he was very purple and very very bright.

he lived on the ice in a land so faraway
very very friendly he just loved to play
he like to slide along in his land of ice
he was very kind and very very nice.

all the penguins loved him they would play all day
the little purple penguin kept them bright and gay.

******
Real
Insane
Pain
Please
Leave
Every
Day

I have never seen her the way
saw her the first day.*

she was the prettiest from far
when the beauty of her
was in dream discovered!

she was the sweetest of song
when she first came along
my heart went ding ****!

she wasn't just a pretty face
but a fountain of grace
my happiest address!

but the days soon wore
in insane explore
she was new no more!

seen it from morn
her splendor was shorn
she turned a monotone!

i found many a flaw
her plume was of daw
by proximity's law!

The pain rushes from the depth of my *****,
and into my bones;
the flutters that were once sweet in my guts,
are now belligerent ruptured tears
that unseeingly bleed.

The mind that never sleeps; even at rest, it dreams.

The thought of my lips against yours are like soft satin plumped cushions that slowly press against each other;
slowly seeping,
and elevating,
yearning for more.

He means very little to me-
on a regular, uninterrupted day.
But when he talks to me,
he is maliciously welcoming.
He's toxically enduring
and determinedly warm.

It's possible Stockholm Syndrome,
it's definite injustice.
Sweet, sweet injustice.
Sweet interruptions.
My sweet bitterness to his sweet nonchalance.
And then;
sweet realisation that I may not be alright,
but merely distracted.