Sometimes I think of death,
how sometimes it's far fetched to think none less than that
it's an ease set to put me to rest.
I'm not saying this life isn't beautiful,
or more over that I'd love to see my family at the funeral.
Oh but if those brake pads gave
and that big eighteen wheeler swayed, hit and swerved me off the side into a twisted metal grave;
Well I had given what I'd got but in the end it's tough to say that sometimes I think that life is better off that way.
Not for me but for those I care for.
Ripped and torn by thinking I know exactly what I live for.
I don't and that's a scary thing.
Something that could shake me wide awake at night while having dreams.
Sometimes I think of death,
friendly by the way it swept and kept me safe.
I was begging to leave but decided to stay.
Now my mind is blank.

No one knows
about the real monsters,
not the ones under the bed
or hidden in the closet
that want to take us away
but the ones that come dressed as humans
and claim they love you
but don't.
They don't know that
monsters rule the world
and their only goal
is to make us be like them.

A broken jar
I fixed when fell
From a far
No one can tell

A broken heart
I tried to fix
But part by part
It all got mixed

A birds feather
I tried to catch
It blew off further
In the thorn patch

A child's cry
Weakened my soul
I went close by
His leg stuck in a hole

A set of painful eyes
Watched me through
An angel in disguise
Yes, that's true

I am quite broken
But I am strong
I am not a token
Don't take me wrong

My love is in my smile
Like a tombstone on a grave
I think for a short while
Then just smile and wave...


©sim

I can't take it,
So I wrap it up
As a gift of words,
And poetry becomes
An emotion,
And I can be,
And I can live,
Here right now,
Poetry,
Life in words.

I like things that are ugly
Like dirt
but not the nice dirt
you know the kind lightly sticks to wrists
the kind that you can easily wipe off
not that kind
I like the ugly kind
the seep into your shoes kind
the ruin a wardrobe kind
the type of dirt that you didn't know a second ago
but the type you'll know for years to come
I like things that are ugly
like a broken pool cue
but not the nice kind
the one with the decent tip
the one that we all call "old reliable"
not that one
I like the shattered one
the one we fear will break each time
the kind that all the chalk in the world couldn't mend
I like things that are ugly
Like an unmade bed
but not the nice kind
the ruffled sheets that beckon you to enter
not that kind
I like my blankets strewn about
the pillow cases stained with ketchup
the overwhelming sense of discomfort
those are the beds I like
I like things that are ugly
Like a crying girl
but not the pretty one alone on a bus
crying about some boy from some town
wishing she remembered how it felt before she'd loved
not that kind
I like the kind that are shaken, disheveled
unfinished puzzles beckoning to be solved
but fully aware they came without all the pieces

I like things that are Ugly