She's wrapped herself on the wall
With her fragrant pink flowers
In bunches of disheveled disarray

And when the summer wind blows
It sends a gentle floral shower
Of blossoms and scents my way

At night, under the moon and stars
I inhale her. With her I love to be
And though I dally and play with words
There can never be a poem as she.

not only is the farm abandoned
but all the sheep are dead.
the sugarplums dance on their graves
instead of twirling in my head.
smiles are nonexistent
nobody has a clue
of the million tons of *******
others may be going through.
my brain is being clouded
by all your negative words;
i’ve stopped saying hello to him
despite how much it hurts.
if he is the train
then i am strapped to the tracks,
begging myself to push forward
and never look back.
but my heart gives in,
it’s an endless cycle
of each time promising myself
i won’t reconcile.
but one look at his eyes
or golden curly hair,
and i’ve already started writing him
words beyond compare.
so if he is the farmer
then i am the sheep,
abandoned and killed
for my lack of sleep.

You are beautiful, brilliant, talented,
But when I look at you
I wonder if you are happy.
You used to bring light to the whole room
With your joy
And now when I look at you I think of rain.
I love rain,
But you don’t.
Shadows pass across your face so often now
Like rolling clouds
And it scares me
Because I know that the storm which stirs my blood
Poisons yours
And I don’t wish it for you
But I see it in you.
Like recognizes like
And I see your darkness
The opposite of mine
Cold and weathered
A world you get lost in and swallowed by,
A burden you endure but cannot flourish beneath.
You were always sunlight, warmth, like springtime made flesh.
You were always alive in a different way from me,
A way that I loved you for
A way that I thought must be so vital to you
If it could be so nourishing for everyone who met you.
And now I hardly see you happy anymore-
When you smile it looks brittle, and vanishes quickly.
That mesmerizing light
So unquenchable years ago
Gutters like a candle in high wind
And its frailty is a wound in your eyes.
I see the weariness in your face
And your beauty has grown so sad-
No less captivating, but sobering, forlorn,
Somehow heavy.

I look at you and I no longer see your joy to be alive
And I wish
Quietly
Passionately
That I could somehow bring it back for you.

Man
was malformed
by the mask
he made
to hide from
the more grotesque
version of
the world
that burned him.

Always adept
One to possess a good skill
Such fierce and determination
Along with a strong will
You will go a long way
Strive to be the best
Put your heart into everything
Set the standard of excellence