Will I ever be OK?
This loneliness always stays
Their lips constantly say
"Darling, you will be OK"

I don't believe what they say
Because I am not OK
And it gets worse day to day
I will never be OK

Will I ever be OK?
Beasts of lonely want to stay
I wish they'd just go away
I just want to be OK

Like a never ending day
Lonely 'gain comes out to play
So to God allmight' I pray
Please don't let the lonely stay.

I just want to be OK.

That amazingly blazing smile you have on your face when you are talking.
I look into your eyes that look like night sky's.
They are broken.
But your smile still holds firm.
Never going away, obeying what your mind is telling you.

His smile is gone, his head is down.
His mind say's nothing of a smile.
Just hurt.
Just hurt is in his eyes and his face...

Is there a difference?

A smile.
No smile.
A laugh.
No laugh.

It's all the same my dear.
But your eyes...oh your eyes tell me different.

Why ask why I like your poem? Be courageous in your ideas and ideals. Be confident enough to know that your work is true to your vision. Artists of all kinds, but especially poets, are the philosophers and prophets of their generation. A revelation does not passive-aggressively seek to be worthy. It just is. Revelators, in the converse, often are compelled to seek praise with false humility via the age old pretentious depreciation of the value of their work in order to reap praise, which is the expected polite response. It is a waltz I choose to sit out. I feel it is less than honest and a disrespect to the poet and the poem to revel in such frivolity. Write for the sake of revelation, not for the accolades of topical praise. It is no business of the poet why a poem strykes chords with a reader. Simply allow it to happen. Talent and truth are not always equatable, nor are beauty and integrity always comparable. In the heart, a poet knows he is a poet. By the very construct of your words, Poet, may you be the caster of many spells. Thank-you for sharing a bit of yourself with me. I bid thee Love and Light.

If I were to write
A poem of me
Would be dark as night
And bright as the sea

If I were to write
A poem myself,
I'd compare my heart
To an empty shelf.

Nothing to speak of
As far as stories go
When it comes to love life,
I've nothing there to show.

If I were to write
A poem of my life
I would talk of hurt
Of anger and of strife.

But there's one more thing
I would write about
If I gave myself
A heart-felt shout out

If I were to write
A poem about me
I would write of love
Not something you can see

I have been so loved
Throughout my whole life
That sometimes it even
Outdoes all the strife.

The love of God, my father
Is greater even still
Than any of the anger
That echoes Satan's will.

When my heart has fallen
And I can't get back up
He sets me on my way again
He overflows my cup

So if I were to write
A poem about me
I'd write of love unbounding
Dark and shining like the sea.

On this rainy day
I just want to cry
Not like some others
Who wish they would die

On this rainy day
Just want it to end
*** somehow I thought
He was a Godsend.

On this rainy day
I wish I could weep
And all my troubles
Could roll down my cheeks

On this rainy day
I just want the tears
And just to erase
All the past years

On this rainy day
My emotions scream
And boy do I wish
This was all a dream

On this rainy day
Want someone to hold
Someone who'll love me
Even when I'm old

On this rainy day
A painting's my heart
He graffitid it
And made it his art

On this rainy day
Breath seems like torture
A thing of unknown
Like a new culture

On this rainy day
I just want to cry
But oh pity me
My tear ducts are dry

On this rainy day
I just want to choke
On my wet tears, but
My tear ducts are broke.

Come, come
To the gathering of winners
The one the world sees as sinners

Come, come
To the meeting of the living
Who love our God yet keep on sinning

Come, come
To the love of our Lord
Who across seas and skies had soared

Come, come
To the love of our father
Who's undying grace will always go farther

Come, come
Ye sinners and saints
You beautiful, broken, and you with stains

Come, come
To the Lord Jesus Christ
For He will always win the fight

"Come, come,
Lord Jesus" we cry
One day, He will, one day, we'll fly

"Come, come"
Say the saints to the dead
"The banquet is soon, and the  prince shall be wed!"

Come, come
My Christ and my king
I want with you forever to sing

Come, come
And your chariots bring
For we shall be ready, we shall, my king.

Come, come
To the gathering of winners
Though we be victorious, we are still sinners

Come, come
Oh come to the feast
Where we shall eat plenty and hear the great priest.

The Lord Jesus
Ate with us sinners
And took off our rags and made us the winners.

So come, come
To the table of winners
Who through the world's eyes may still be sinners

But come, come
For in the eyes of Jesus
We are no sinners-as jewels He sees us.