A broken heart,
Is a crime unsolved,
In a crazy world,
With nothing resolved.

A lonely soul,
Is a wasted try,
But she will perservere,
until the day she dies.

A broken promise,
Is an easy let down,
All trust fades to black,
Till you come back around.

A single rose,
In the hands of the one,
Could brighten your day,
Make all cursed become undone.

Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,
Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,
A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea
Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flattening their sides.

Overhead go the choughs in black, cacophonous flocks --
Bits of burnt paper wheeling in a blown sky.
Theirs is the only voice, protesting, protesting.
I do not think the sea will appear at all.
The high, green meadows are glowing, as if lit from within.
I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies,
Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chinese screen.
The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them; they believe in heaven.
One more hook, and the berries and bushes end.

The only thing to come now is the sea.
From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me,
Slapping its phantom laundry in my face.
These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt.
I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me
To the hills' northern face, and the face is orange rock
That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal.

Time can fly so freely when the bird tweets 'Hello',
Even then it crawls along like the snail on a bad day
But can always find it's was home even through the clouds.

I wait for yet the time to come when I sing my own song,
Nothing comes from within as yet, but my heart soars itself
As if the bird were to be inside me alone through the rain.

But yet I still wait here for the snail to quicken, faster,
But there it stays, now it doesnt come,
Another day, another year.....

Sometimes it seems

that my best memories

and my worst memories

are the same.

But how can I miss

all those times that I lived

through such darkness and pain?

It feels so stupid to say

that I want to go back

when at the time it felt like I was in hell.

But am I really any better off

now than I was then?

Sometimes it can be so hard to tell.

I think back on all

these events from my past

and I wish that they were happening now.

My life today

seems much worse by comparison,

and I just don’t understand how.

When I know that back then

I was far more unhappy

and I had every reason to be,

and my brain tells me now

every aspect of life

has only gotten better for me.

Why do I miss people

I never liked in the first place

and want to do things I hated to do?

I can’t seem to accept

that things are better today

although I know for a fact it is true.

When I think of the past

I always feel longing

for that time that I can’t help but miss.

When I feel sorrow for what I have lost,

I must remember to tell myself this.

“These thoughts are not true,

and this feeling is false

it is just a cruel trick of the mind

the path laid before you

is never as lovely

as the one that you left behind.”

I am a dreamer without a dream.

I am an artist without an art.

I am a soldier against my own thoughts.

I am a betrayer of my own heart.

I am an activist too scared to act.

I am a lover unable to show love.

I try to be everything at once,

I find that I am nothing at all.

I hide my true desires

behind everything I pretend to be.

It seems all the things I really want

conflict with what I want people to see.

I want to take chances

but fear what I might lose.

I want to stand up for my beliefs

but I don’t know what I can do.

I want to show how I truly feel

to let people finally see the real me

but I can’t stand to show them all my flaws

or let the know that I am weak.

No wonder I can’t make connections

since no one knows who I am.

I wish that I could show them

but I don’t see how I can

since I don’t even know myself

who I am am or who I want to be.

All of my conflicting traits

don’t even make sense to me.

Why do we humans feel that

we have the right to

disregard all other beings

and do whatever we want to do?

Do we really think our vanity

is worth their suffering?

Is a slight increase in confidence

worth all the pain that it will bring?

Using all these products

meant to make us beautiful

to cause such terrible agony

is something unforgivable.

Injecting medications

meant to benefit humans

into defenseless bodies

so very different from our own.

We’ve known for many decades

that this cannot be accurate.

Stopping all this torture

would be for everyone’s benefit.

Creating such conditions

to cause depression and hopelessness

just to study their reactions

and see if they apply to us.

What could it possibly have been

that made us believe that

tormenting other creatures

would help us understand ourselves?

How can we continue

to inflict so much pain on

such kind and loving creatures

and not see that it’s wrong?

I hope that soon we’ll realize

the error of our ways

and at last we’ll bring an end to

these dark and evil days.

Loneliness

can be infinite

when you choose to live

by your heart.

No compromise

you’re willing to fight

for what you know is right

in your soul,

each and every day

no matter what they say.

You’ll never feel okay

if you don’t.

Never give in

you can’t let them win

just stay the person you’ve been

all along.

In a book I read

there was an owl that lived

in a tree that was dead

and decayed.

He was resigned

to the fact he would die

when the tree could not find

strength to stand.

And like that owl

you will find out

that you must stay bound

to your choice.

Ignore the cost

far more would be lost

if your morals you did not

follow.

It’s better to

always be true

to what really matters to you

in the end.

I am still young,

but I am getting older.

The days seem slow,

but the years are moving faster.

When I look back

on when I was a child

it seems so far away,

at least a million miles.

And those days

are lost and seem forgotten

but there are times

I feel like I could touch them.

I feel so weak

and powerless as an infant.

And yet I know

soon I will reach the limit

to the time that I can waste

just sitting here and waiting

till I can find my strength

and stop feeling like a baby.

The time has come

for me to be moving forward

but I’m afraid.

I just feel like such a coward.

Will I ever know

which way I should be moving

and stop thinking of

all the things I could be losing?

How much more time

do I have before it’s too late

for me to find

the life that is my true fate?

I know I should

be brave enough to change things

but I am still

just a person in the making.