y words are crying because my soul is dying. Please help my words why ate they crying? 

Teach them about a story called smiling, make my words speak understand why they crying.

My pen is lost literally fighting, the letters are not thinking lost and fighting. 

My poetry poem book is suffocating an crying, my hands won't write arthritis writing. 

The lines in my poem book are crippling and breaking, my pens ink won't let my imagination amaze it.

Letters scrambled up whilst words stand there and starve, memories feeling lost slowly fading away to somewhere in the dark.

My pens shattered it hasn't spoken it try's to get up but it drops. Every word makes no sense! The letters were lost somewhere in my head.

The poem would not speak whisper or dream, lost in the mist running away from the winds. Searching and screaming but the pen has no ink.

The poem book felt sick every word lost it's dream. I looked and I wonder'd Listened cause I was broken.

Shackled in a padded cell the smell was bad! But the silence will make you go mad.

I couldn't write I had a block every letter seemed to have stopped. My poem book was starving my poetry was hungry.

My thoughts were patiently waiting for my pen to start creating words that would sound amazing. 

Poetry so deep the meaning was hidden somewhere underneath the ink. 

JidosReality 8.6.14

I had to stop and think! Why were letters chasing me? Why my pen would not stop craving for words that felt amazing.

How every line in my poem book satisfied my pens craving. The imagination in the poem had all the letters rushing and blushing.

Every line came alive as my one either smiled or cried. The sounds the words made created memories that would never go away.

Mixed with love and pain in every emotion, filled with dreams and imagination many words had to be spoken.

My hand comes alive every-time every time it picks up the pen and writes. My thoughts can not speak! But every poem let's them breath.

Every letter searching and whispering for a word to start listening. This addiction has my craving wanting me to write poetry that's amazing.

And when I sit and I think! And write poetry that's so deep, my mind becomes free my heart beat cuddles me.

The anger inside me that wants to explode and become free, comes out when I write my pen sets it free. 

Letters and words give life to my  poetry. What a different type of life reality has shown me.


JidosReality 26.3.14

How deep do you think when you sleep in a dream? How clear does it seem everything that feels so real.

Life is alive Breathing, Listening and Learning. Our eyes are watching and screaming searching but whispering.

Tears always watching they own shadows crying. Reality see that's a memory that's free. 

I court a smile heed it away some were in my jeans. What can I say words and letters amazingly hypnotise me.

I use this pen as a weapon to battle this label iv been labelled Depression.

Every letter belongs to a word that holds the secret to the combination as to why my deppretion is always whispering, and asking questions.

My mind never sleeps it racers as it thinks. My pen has a heart that's filled with ink to write and breath.

The lines in my poem book come alive when a memory speaks. Words start Buzzing Blushing Craving for something.

This label is on a table that's balancing on a box of Medication. Doctors sitting around this table, trying to find a solution that will save me.

What you doing doctors asking? Why my words were shouting and smiling and not saying nothing.

Letters thinking and crying, How Deep do you think when you sleep in a dream?

JidosReality 9.6.14

What goes throughout an addicts brain? Besides static pain broken words addicted to pain.

A broken train derailed as death waits to slowly inflict more pain. My pen tries to breath like an addicts addiction craving for another drink.

Scratching around looking for another hit, the addict may be rich or poor living good or on the street. With every hit and every drink the addict will never be like you and me.

Addicted to something Buzzing addict what a munchie, ill have a smoke this high grade is some nice ****.

Come on baby girl come smoke with me , sit down and listen my poetry is amazing just let all the words go free.

An addict is cleaver what a lier so clever. It all comes down to a drink. Another hit let's the addict breath.

It don't matter if they score in a house or on the street. They thoughts always echo making sounds that are empty. 

Pockets always empty they bellies are always starving, the words from they mouth are full of ******* and nothing.

The addict won't stop! The addict is broken and torn apart there's no honesty or trust. See now the story's told everyone has given up.

Making choices broken promises and the lies will have to stop. The addicts at the bottom were there's nothing to hold on.

Everyday they get judged, stop the drugs even tho it's hard Stop.

Stop the drinking and start thinking? You alcoholic your life is with living. Don't destroy this life you were given.

You think you understand an alcoholics addiction? Understand this? Put your self in an addicts position.


JidosReality 17.6.14

She had evil in her vain's, her heart wished for all our pain. 

From the moment she could see the true meaning of fear, it made her think! How much she needed it.

Her words would never speak, they would always whisper to us whilst we sleep.

 Our nightmares were all created every action was meant to break us.

Our hearts were filled with fear, our happiness were turned to tears. 

Our happy memories were all erased and replaced with suffering that lived on our pain.

Her secret was so deep her love breathed no heart beat. Her destiny has no soul it's world was dark and cold. 

Her smile was always lost as it twisted watching us rot. Eating away at us slowly like shadows searching in a fog. 

Her secret was in a box! Locked an tired up in a knot. Her past was never gone it's future had to be found.

Our souls were all promised to a spirit she had conjured. Blood has to be spilled every drop taking away our youth.

She acts like she's caring loving and always smiling. Her food always tasted good but we never knew it was blessed with African voodoo.

Animal sacrifice the snake would cuddle her at night late in bed. The eggs would be planted around the house in th morning.

Her world is a world were demons would respect and wait to be commanded.

JidosReality 20.4.14

When the dead return wounds re-open, secrets come alive with many words to be spoken.

We all have secrets many things we hide. Little story's and big ones all ready to come alive.

Closet doors shut closed waiting to be opened up wide. The truth has a begging but got lost in the lies. 

Our eyes can not speak but tell a story hidden deep in our smiles.  Your face never lights up! Always confused by the lies.

Your words make no sense from the beginning to the end. Your secret is not lost it's just silently eating you up.

Your personality will change every thing you do will never be the same. Confusion has now come to get you! 

It was stalking you and you never knew. Nothing fits it always breaks, tiny little pieces scattered all over the place.

They all lost misplaced confusion has them feeling out of place. See now nothing seems to make any sense, 

What a mood? So much stress, this place is a mess. Why are you confussed? Doors closed locked in a cupboard in a little dark room.

Wounds hurting as memories start screaming, the trauma has never left you.

All the lies will now confuse you, there's no were to run confusion has come to get ya.

JidosReality 18.6.14

I had to think about it? Everytime it had me in a place where evil breathed.

It's been a long long time, thought I could run far far away! But it got me calling.

And knew why I looked my pain was the price I had to pay to understand this life that I lived.

It's reality was twisted by many words that were lost in an empty star that was bright with darkness.

I cried tears that smiled this was my destiny, I fight and I try but my tears still cry. Why won't it leave me why?

It's the only thing that believes in me. It's words make no sounds but it's caring always sounds out loud.

Every time it's not around my thoughts hear it calling. In the morning it's the worst Shaking Alcohol Carving.

Begging for some Cider to come and take away this thirst that's craving. It don't really care that I'm hurting and braking.

All it really knows is that it has me craving, screaming and lying in control of my thoughts, whispering words always shouting literally dying.

Letters never smiling they always crying and bitting. Memories are created because somebody's smiling or crying. 

Rehab never had the answer but addiction would make you wonder? That drinking Cider has many questions and answers to make you wonder! 

JidosReality 9.6.14