Describe the colour blue to someone who can't see.
The smell of saltwater,
The winter mornings on a train platform,
Cold skin,
The texture of denim,
An ice cube on the tip of your tongue,
A slow and steady voice.

Describe the colour pink to someone who can't see.
The smell of a flower,
The spring breeze gently touching your skin,
The texture of fluffy socks,
The soft pillow you often had as a child,
Bubble gum flavoured ice cream,
The soft sweep of blush against your cheek.

Describe the colour yellow to someone who can't see.*
The laughter of a stranger,
The sunshine glowing, early morning,
Butter melting into your toast,
Warm skin,
Sand falling through your fingertips,
The bent pages from an old book.

Crash! Kapow!
You call yourself a hero?
You don't know the meaning.
I run, your personalised ball-boy,
The Dark Knight and his shadow,
Trailing behind, holding the coats,
Each day the same, never seen
Just a sidekick
...
Now I have grown,
Exchanged that emerald gear,
Black trousers, a polo neck,
No longer need to be seen,
People no longer stare at the man
who followed, the man who tagged along,
Getting into trouble and causing havoc,
I am who I am,
Holy Robin Redbreast! Scream tabloids
Have I said too much? The mask holds
Identity but what if that got lost?
What if the Robin opened it's beak,
the Bat would have nowhere to fly.

Across the room you stand,
Tall, long and thin,
Light gleaming off
your flawless, smooth skin.
I call you a friend,
Yet sometimes, you aren’t.
Frequent jibes,
Every day, taunting
Refusing the gift,
I have always wanted.

You are not cruel,
Only truthful,
Very tactful,
But sometimes,
Brutal,
It’s not only I
who trembles at
your opinions on
imperfection.

You are still always there,
You watch me as I fade into slumber,
You are the first one, who helps me,
When I awaken,
Sorting through jeans and
Hand knitted jumpers,
You determine my style,
And I can hardly loathe you
for that.
Yet you still act all noble,
You have seen me smile and cry,
Sometimes you help,
Sometimes you hide.

I fear the day you notice
the creases in my skin,
The marks on my hands,
The silver in my hair,
I know you won’t change,
You’ll act all wise,
Glance at my decay,
And my upcoming demise.

A lone island tranquil and still,
Her faint figure, hard to ignore,
Concealed in the shadow,
Men drawn in, the promise of more,
Ripples of the sea sparkle,
The setting sun ignites the waves,
Body outlined, beside the twilight,
Her poignant song travels to the pirates sails,
An oceans teardrop falls on her skin
No fairytale, shells, coins and gems,
Awake and alive, her smile enchanting,
He discovers her world, a surprising escape,
Lost in her eyes, reality crumbled,
And his dreams began to take shape.

Always smiling,
Always laughing,
Never caring,
Appearance is nothing,
Thick paint fitting
the creases on your skin
Scars that mean so much
tell so many stories
that you dont know which to choose.
Evil is you,
Ambition: Cause havoc,
death? Who cares.
insanity, people say but you know
it's who you are,
making people crash and burn,
even the good and honest,
enjoying the pain of others,
that's why you ****,
seeing people's last emotions
a blade tearing apart families
just for the thrill,
maybe even to prove a point,
at the end of the day
you're just another man
wanting to watch the world burn
Why? Because it's fun.

Colourful kites form constellations against the sky;
comets, planets and stars, all condensed into a
single, crowded horizon.
It’s such a clear day, galaxies seen for miles.

The vastness of space is something
one cannot comprehend,
the size, the emptiness,
even the darkness,
the stars help outline the skies,
but to the naked eye, space is nothing.

Clouds inhabit the sky,
never really caring about people's feelings,
they rain when they feel miserable,
they give random rays of light when feeling
generous, and laugh at us whilst we moan.

The universe we live in is so vast,
Full of wonderful miracles,
But full of pain and loss,
Everyone has their own universe,
everyone chooses their own paths

Sometimes love isn't enough,
Lust is hidden in everyone,
Hidden deep within,
Amazing places can be picked for ****** adventures,
I am treated like a rare and precious gem
And do not lose his respect for being so wild,
The bedroom can be a place where imagination is born,
Imagination and desires are the most important weapons,
Alluring colours and sweet moments on the lips,
******* is physical,
It's language with it,
Bad words are not bad words in the bedroom,
But used by lovers to express their love,

Love is a symphony, a melody and a song
Love is an adventure