Continuous change is ubiquitous
Scripting a new script for us
Without rehearsal we take the stage

what it takes
to be happy in love,

what's the key to a bond for long,

i still don't know
i'll never know

how it's held for years strong.

if you ask me
what it takes
for a lasting relation,

what's the key to take it along,

i still don't know
i'll never know

how to make love survive that long.

if you ask me
what it takes
for the love to survive,

what's the mystery for two hearts to gel,

i still don't know
i'll never know

how to make love long dwell.

if you ask me
what it takes
to win in love success,

what's the way to love that far,

i still don't know
i'll never know

how i got love-struck by her.

You can fall in love
with the way
someone pours milk
into their cereal,
listening to the things they speak about
when they sleep talk
at three in the morning,
and by watching them untangle
earphones, which somehow
seems to be their biggest challenge
of the day.

You can fall in love
examining the face they make
when they try to hold back laughter,
if they put their head or their arms
through a sweater first,
and the way they shiver
when it is 23 degrees outside
and they are only wearing
a leather jacket
while drowning in a
thick red scarf.

You can fall in love.
You can fall in love.
You can fall in love.

And you will fall in love
with all of that.

We are stars
Above the sun;
No one hears
Or sees us come.
But surely as
Your sun
Will wane,
We'll shine brightest
To light the way.

you
with your charming, teeth whited, half-witted smiles,
clumsily showing me how things should be done.

you
with your endless rambles about no one but yourself
and occasionally asking about me as if i was special.

you
calling to me only when you're in need of something
or need of something from me
but never needing me.

you
with your opened, large, sea-blue eyes
blinking back at me.


you
and your words that could set me off into the sky,
the type that made me fly so high, that once i fell
my chances and i
will die.

Poetry is like gusts of fresh air
Harbinger of the soul’s catharsis
Flowing emotions through the pen
Concealed pain written across the pages
Healing the pain which was long buried