My empty surroundings
My bare shabby walls
All gets forgotten
When my true love calls
The roof keeps on leaking
Bound by brick over brick
Still I sit and admire
How much the two of us click
Ash in the fireplace
Mud on the floor
You know you’re the one
That I sure adore
Holes in the staircase
My plumbings caput
But I’d walk with no feet
Just to be kept afoot

I'd rather write poetry, put voice to my inner man. I'd rather give you the story,on the expression of how it can.  

Draw out the poison, place forgiveness, in place of your pain. Give you the answers, that escape you today.

Pick up the peaces, others broke anew, put a bandage on your heart, as it renews.

Hold you while the tears, fall like rain, dry your beautiful face, make you smile again.

I'd rather write poetry, because I've never met you, except in my dreams, my heart, when this is read, could this poem be, for you???
Michael Powers
"STYXX ON FIRE "

​A metronome's heart, a steady click,
The quiet before the sudden, lick.

Two wooden souls, a perfect pair,
Waiting to cut through, the heavy air.

​A snare drum yawns, a cymbal gleams,
Waking from quiet, rhythmic dreams.

The kick drum thumps, a primal beat,
A pulse that flows from head to feet.

​The sticks ignite, a blur of flight,
A thousand strokes in fading light.

They dance and blur, a fiery line,
A single drummer, one divine design.

​Broken into, the Styxx are burned to ash,
From the fire that consumed, through rhythmic crash.

A rock and roll storm, a jazz-fueled trance,
Each hit a note, a furious dance.

​The crowd is caught, a living wave,
By every rhythm, that the drummer gave.

They hit the crash, a brilliant flash,
A thunderclap, a sudden splash.

Of sound that soars, then fades to gray,
Till the next rhythm takes, them all away.

Michael Powers
"STYXX ON FIRE "

If the pain I feel, is yours not mine, then why is your pain,living inside?
In this heart,left with nothing to give,your pain has destroyed it,nothing left but tears.
Michael Powers
"STYXX ON FIRE "