My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.

I was the moon
And you were the stars
You were faraway
But I knew you were out there
I was surrounded by your presence
Yet never knew your touch
I was the moon
Traveling on my own
Wondering if we would ever meet

One day the light was different
When you came into my life
You became my sun
I was finally warmed by your touch
But it was ever fleeting

Always a chase
Rarely meeting
I was the moon
And you were the sun
Saying goodbye became a greeting

Every now and then our epic chase
Would turn into a meeting
An eclipse and melding of souls
Almost as soon as it began it would end
And we would begin our chase again

I was the moon
And you were the sun

Loved, loved, because of a face so lovely
A mysterious, charming of a girl … but who was she?
Lost, with doubt that never vanished, much to her dismay
Troubling her mind with such disarray
Surrounded her are eyes swimming with confusion
Who could help her ruin all the commotion?
Then came a beautiful boy filled with curiosity
Do you think he could give an end to her mixed misery?

*j.m

So many a time,
that (I)'ve asked
a damaged little bird
to fix its own wings.
I (l)end out a helping hand,
when it said it couldn't do so  
Then I said, "Go and fly with your new wings."
It thanked then left,
I found new bliss to see the little bird
soaring high ab(ove) the clou(d)s.
I knew that it'll be better even
witho(u)t me

*j.m