his beauty runs dwn a golden cup dat all the angels drink from
so heavenly, so pure and so precious is wat he looks lyk. yet he bites, stings and n draws everyone arwnd him closer jst jst to suffercate them.
he only compels you in oder to **** you...
he's a beast...a beautiful beast which kills the expectations on people

My dear clock plz borrow me ur all so great wand so that i can turn back time....i promise i wont be long, i'm jst going there around the coner, to the time when i took my all so precious key, the key that laid on the high temples, and opened up my pure precious heart to wear it around my silly silky sleeves...

oh dear clock plz borrow me ur mighty wand which holds all the powers of time travel so that i can go back to the time when i read my heart out loud so dat my precious lovely words wont ever lay on his selfish ears again...

oh oh ohh dear old clock would u plz plz plz borrow me your great powerful wand so that i could go back to the time whn i told him that i love him....because ryt now it feels as if i made a foolish mistake...

dear poetry thank you for being there for me
thank you for permiting me to express myself
thank you for being my pillow of  streangth
thank you for your great wise words
thank you for the endless boring advice i never wanted to hear
thank you for the wonderfull inspiration i needed in my life
thank you for not giving up on me when i was down
thank you for listening to my endless complains about the terrable troubling woes in my life
thank you for catching all the torn apart tears i have cried
thank you for being there everynight in bed
and thank you for being a friend!...

i cried n cried so hard n so loud hoping that someone might hear me, open the door and save me from my own tears, but little did i know nobody really wanted to hear my cries.

no meter how loud n hard i cried everyone jst blocked their ears n increased their radio volumes because in this world its every man for himself, nobody really cares about my problems n nobody is i the mood of comforting a sorbing baby not even my very own mother.

i simply going to drawn in my own tears

I'm suicidal
I have thought about it not only once or twice but thrice
I'm suicidal
I have written hundreds, thousands and millions of letters
I'm suicidal
I'm a danger to myself
I'm suicidal
I see no fun in living.

With tears on my eyes,
after all the angry words were written
I sat there, starring at the wall
heart bleeding with words but yet soul silently crying out...

And so I wrote...
Today my soul is silent
but not at peace

Today my soul is listening to my disappointed thoughts and painful heart filled with sorrows singing a verse of complain...

Today my soul is simply just listening, singing a chorus of..."its ok its ok its ok"

and my spirit sighes as it listens..

2day I've showered my face wth tears
N so i feel sad,bitter n salty
My wounds burn 4rm all de salt of my tears
My eyes r dry frm all de tears they've lost
N my soul is torn apart by de pain i feel
2day my day was an incline...started out gud only 2 get worse.
Dnt call m ok, dnt ask me abwt it 2mrrw, i wont feel lyk tlking abwt it, i preffered texting bcoz its better than tlking...
Gudnyt

you're always picking on me
bulling my feelings and making my sorrow more painful
sometimes i wonder if the three words you always used to whisper in my ears ever mattered because your hurtful words at times seemed to over shadow those wonderful words.
but than its ok, because you're my mother i'll always forgive you and let the love i have for you overcloud my judgement

I AM NOT ASKING FOR YOUR RING I AM JUST ASKING FOR YOUR LOVE.

I AM NOT ASKING FOR YOUR NAME I AM JUST ASKING FOR YOUR WORDS.

I AM NOT ASKING FOR A YEAR I AM JUST ASKING FOR A MINUTE.

I AM NOT ASKING FOR YOUR FAITH I AM JUST ASKING FOR YOUR TRUTH.

I AM NOT ASKING FOR YOUR HEART I AM JUST ASKING FOR THE WORDS WITHIN IT.

I AM NOT ASKING FOR YOUR KIDS I AM JUST ASKING FOR A SINGLE SENTANCE.

I AM NOT ASKING FOR MUCH I AM JUST ASKING FOR A LITTLE.

ALL I AM JUST ASKING FOR IS FOR YOU TO JUST SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME.

Poetry is not jst read but poetry also is analysed...