That girl
an abstract beauty
with a dictionary of words unable to define her

She is perfectly imperfect
with a broken heart
that few will ever see

The way she spoke and moved
had boys chasing her like a setting sun
that was just too far away

She creates art with everything she does
and yet she remains unaware of the art
that is her own body, mind and soul

That abstractly beautiful girl

When  you  go  down  there.
The  settings  so  grand.
And  you  might  see  my  friend  there.
Playing  in  his  band.

The  sun  minting  coins
on  the  surface  is  grand.
Casting  shadows
across  on  the  land.

The  setting  so  grand  there.
And  fills  you  with  hope.
In  this  mad  world.
It  helps  you  to  cope.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK. 2017.

if you don’t like the way things are
either change them
or change your attitude

Being with you was like trying to keep water in cupped hands.
No matter how tightly I held, you still seeped through the cracks.

All I wanted was merely a sip,
A tiny taste of the love you had to offer.
I had been thirsty without knowing I needed a drink until you teased me with your cool touch.

But before I could bring my hands to my lips,
The last drop hit the floor.
You were gone.
Leaving me nothing to soothe my chapped lips and burnt heart.

But here's a secret I learned shortly after you left.
I wasn't in a desert and you weren't an oasis.
All I had to do was grab a glass and turn on the tap.
I found a way to quench my thirst from another source,
And from that day I never looked back.

I don't want someone in my world
who wishes to be perfect.
Because that means they will look to me to be perfect as well.
I refuse to carry this.
Life is already too much.
I can not be judged by them.
Who are they anyway?
I have all of these "flaws" that I embrace because it unstresses me to know.
I get to wake up everyday and be myself. The only person I've  known for all of these years.
I have tried to fake it.
I always fail, and I never fail.
So my resentment for you is alive.
And then,
I look to the corner of my wicked eye,
which forces my hand to judge.
And ****** you.
Hoping one day,
the person you were meant to be resurfaces.

The poet chisels the nonexistent....

i can feel d i s t a n c e
it's an ache in my bones,
creaking doorways,
noisy joints. stinging knees and ribs every door frame and welcome mat
i don't know what i want except a certain proximity

A world with people having the same personality and style,
Where everybody is a copy of the other,
We all have the same smile,
And just want to compete with each other..

Competition can be motivational,
But sometimes a killer.
Competing with yourself is ideal because there is no other you,theres just you so the only one you can make better is your self by ensuring you are better than you were yesterday.

Be an individual,
You are like a colour in a piece of art..
Without you its incomplete.
Imagine the world as a piece of art,
Everyone offering a different kind of beauty,
Don't change yourself for anyone,you are you and you deserve to live as you!