I'll write a poem a day,
and maybe that way everything will be
okay.

I'll look up at that oil covered sky,
that peculiar black stained shade of grey,
those wisps of condensation tilled out,
like fields of wheat and
creased tightly through golden streaks,
of setting suns' last gleams,
and I'll sit lack jawed, if just for a second,
and wonder if truly my existence is worth it.

So much doubt running,
so very deep.
Yes, I'll write a poem a day,
as if...
nothing,
really.

Aye,
Eureka, I know my meaning,
Yes I will express that frustration,
of an infinite empty feeling.
That little almost insignificant voice that says to you,
It doesn't matter, none of this is real,
Well for each and every one of you I'll feel,
quite intensely in fact,
that ignominious void,
the elephant in the room,
and with tact and poise,
I'll illuminate it for you,
so you can live, and I can dream,
Sweet fruitful dreams of nothing.

You gorgeous *******.
I like you.

157

Musicians wrestle everywhere—
All day—among the crowded air
I hear the silver strife—
And—walking—long before the morn—
Such transport breaks upon the town
I think it that “New Life”!

If is not Bird—it has no nest—
Nor “Band”—in brass and scarlet—drest—
Nor Tamborin—nor Man—
It is not Hymn from pulpit read—
The “Morning Stars” the Treble led
On Time’s first Afternoon!

Some—say—it is “the Spheres”—at play!
Some say that bright Majority
Of vanished Dames—and Men!
Some—think it service in the place
Where we—with late—celestial face—
Please God—shall Ascertain!

I hate that feeling.
           that feeling when you're sad,
But you have no idea why.
           You feel so **** void,
but nothing has happened.
           They ask you what is wrong,
but you can not explain.
           Or they did not ask anything,
I do not know what is worse.
           It just feels like I miss someone,
someone I never met.
           I need someone who does not need me.
Loneliness hovers over me,
           takes control of me.
I do not even care.
           I extricate itself from the goals.
Sadness for now is my best and only friend.
           I begin to hate myself and
I want everyone to leave me alone.
          At the same time,
I want someone to hug me and
          told me that everything will be okay.

**I just hate that feeling.
That feeling,
when you do not even know what the hell you feel.