I know you hide your scars from me
Scars that only add to your sweetness.
Perfection that is only brighter for the flaws
It matters not if you are shining
like a new born galaxy.
Blinding all with your beauty.
Or if you are broken and worn
your heart full of broken promises.
I will love you regardless
of when you are a becalmed ocean.
Or the eye of a hurricane.
Know always
I am yours.

I wanted more.
I expected less
Nevertheless
That's what I get.

That's what I get for diving into futures
That the present does not progress into.

It is an addiction that I confess
I find myself in quite a mess
I'll take it perhaps, as a test
To decide what next to do is best.

As much as I'd love to be in your caress
As much as I can't help but stare at your dress
I know I must expect much less
Which I fail to explicitly express

Tell me about your other lovers
Recount all the spectres of your romance
I am just one of many others
That you passed by in fleeting glance.

If you had just but given me a chance
If you'd not agreed to hold my hand
If we were living in the same land
If you had seen me in your plans

If I had seen what was to come,
I would have left.

I would have ran.

Caught somewhere between insecure and peaceful,
She believes she can fool the world.
Her smiling face hides the ugly truth,
The laughs camouflage a heartbroken girl.

They let her dream big and bigger
When they knew they wouldn't fulfill any.
And when she asks why her dreams were crushed,
They tell her she's not even worth a penny.

Took everything from her hands,
All the things that she deserved.
She wasn't unaware of the events,
She just never said a word.

When poets die
It's sad and true,
It matters not
What their bodies do,
The spirit flies
To Poet's Corner,
In Westminster Abbey.
You'll not see
Busts or inscriptions
For all the poets
Whose spirits linger
Alongside Chaucer, Browning, Spencer,
And a myriad of authors.
Dead Poet you have earned your share;
Dead Poet I will know you're there,
Composing in the Laureate's lair.