Sorry if my poetry will seem dark and dead
My writing hand is tired and sore, as is my head
Induced by the twisting and turning, I bled.....
From the knife shoved in my soul while I lay in bed

This poem will never be finished, because like I said
My writing hand is tired and sore, as is my head
If I keep going I'll say bad words, like those in Ted
............................................behind the wood shed

She came to him like a special angel from heaven
He had lost all faith, he was on his life number 7

She found a crack in his hardened armor
He was in disbelief, it was to his honor

They found themselves to be compatible
But his social graces where unconventional

Her beauty and wisdom sailed the seven seas
He never went beyond the forest and the trees

This Special lady tugged and pulled at his heart string
Witch made the melody of his soul dance and sing

She even stirred his passion with a big tight huggy
A thousand stinging bees filling his heart with honey

Her deep soulful eyes put a spell and made him pray
He just couldn’t stop thinking of her night and day
Putting him in a trance, not knowing what to say

This fine lady was in a class that has all that
This poor lad could only offer poems and a chat

The princess in this story was moving fearless and fast
He feared with his lack of nobility, the dream would not last

She drives, flies, floats, plays and stays first class
He always seems to be in a long line, to be the last

The feeling she gave him will forever in his heart last
He feels sad the best he has to offer, is all lost in the past
Dark mystery still surrounds this girl that likes white and black
He’ll try and sweep her off her feet with gifts of vanilla and lilac

Her biggest dream has to do with innocent smell, theses are facts
He hopes she’ll forgive him for all the thing that he poorly lacks.....

With head bowed I kneel before thee
And ask for forgiveness and sympathy
The distance and silence is killing me
Making my heart weep like a willow tree
Fearing the loss of your friendship and beauty
I will suffer to no end if this is our destiny
Sending me a message would make me so happy
Une petite minute de vous, pourrais me sauver la vie

I could get use to
The sound of your sweet, sensual, mesmerizing voice swirling in my head
Getting to know what we feel and want without a word being said
Forking on the table then tightly wrapping my arms around you while spooning in bed

I could get use to
Holding your hand listening to a bird symphony as the setting sun colors the sky
Massaging your mind, rubbing your back, rubbing your low and rubbing you high
Making crazy love to you till the neighbors hear your passionate cry

I could get use to
Opening the book, seeing your face, reading your messages and entering your daily chat
Admiring your beauty night and day, imagining you in nothing but stilettos and cute hat
Playing with your pets, throwing your dog a bone and stroking your ***** cat

I could get use to
Cooking you a special dish and treat and tickling your taste buds with my special honey
Sharing our feelings, dreams and fluids making us giddy, lucid and dizzy
Hovering in your head, swimming in your soul and bewildering your body

I could get use to
Playing board games with you, especially the one that we lay out on the floor
Letting you win, giving you the needed power to say more, more, more
Learning new things, the kind I can’t speak of but will show behind a closed door

Love they say can usually be found just around the corner
The problem is we sometimes fail to make the “Right” turn

Roses are red, violets are blue
My bones are broken, my skin black and blue
Why do you keep beating me on the head with that shoe
You tore out my eyes, intestines and testicles too
Let me bleed for a while, then made a *** of stew

You’re so dam crazy, it’s too late for me, if only I knew
How you like to perform lobotomies, after you sniff glue
The last one oozed brain mater, which you began to chew
It seems that Quentin Terintino has nothing on you
Some things so scary I can’t mention, they are very taboo

Beware all you naive boys, she’s the devil in a tou tou
She’ll **** on you more than what can be found at a Zoo
Her lies filled my head, stretching it till it popped and blew
Wait! Or was it the explosive poisons she put in my shampoo

If I were to write you a song, a song to you
It couldn’t be wrong, it wouldn’t be blue
Your eyes and smile would get top billing
Hoping this song would make you willing
My thoughts and dreams would be supreme
With delightful visions of sharing Ice cream
I’d talk of night dreams of you I’ve received
Such my heart and soul had never perceived

If I were to sing you a song, a song to you
My words would not be something to thinker
My voice would be strong, soft and silver
My hands would shack, my eyes whisper
My body would stop, stay still and shiver
My legs would bring me closer if I might
My hands would hold your fingers tight
My arms would pull you into the night

If I were to give you a song, a song to you
I cannot write nor can I sing
So dreaming later in the spring
When thoughts of fancy twirl in the wind
And my desires won’t be a sin
I’ll give it to you..... Oh yes that too
Then I’ll take some, take some from you
This song I wrote and sang for you

Roses are red violates are blue
Like a rose with no more thorns
Your gaze makes me no more blue
Days I spend hoping to meet you
Nights I dream of holding you too
Battered, broken and a little shy too
How do I do it, how do I get to you
You’re beautiful, cute and classy too
Hope I can be the right one for you