In shadows, I stumble, a wounded soul,
Dragging my leg, a painful toll.
Confusion reigns, thoughts intertwine,
A world of chaos, a mind unkind.

Fragments of truth, a shattered scene,
No common ground, no shared keen.
Agreement lost, a distant dream,
In this bleak reality, I softly scream.

We find ourselves in a place we can't be,
We don't have consensus, we can't agree to agree.
Merely our voices lose, lost in the noise
We have no remains in dignity, nothing about poise.

Through the empty pages
I ponder on what life will write

I wish I could look into your eyes again
I really like you so much
But I don't like your friend zone
Goodbye

She sang a song
of ice and snow
and dreamed of oceans
swaying slow
She swam through clouds
and flew near stars
Fell so proud
and dove so far

She was a sad harmony
A song she unsung
A silence unheard
A deed undone

She hummed a tune
of fish and birds
and bore with devotion
The beasts she herds
She swam through life
and flew from death
Fell from strife
and dove bereft

She was a sweet melody
A smile she unsmiled
A violence in violet
My hope she defiled

She sang a song
that twists the mind
and played my emotions
Leaving me blind
I swam near folly
and flew through sin
I fell in love
and dove right in

To my friends
who can write
fresh-smelling
bouquets of words
with splendid color,
I offer my envy.
Mine are the blunt, stunted words,
rooted in the cracks
in pavement,
or forcing their way
to light around
overbearing rocks.
Some useful
in their own way,
edible or flavorful,
some with a
pedestrian beauty,
but few that one
would bring home in a bunch
with a box of candy.
More appropriate
in a grimy, young fist
crumpled in love,
destined to be vased
in a water glass
by a doting mother,
or shredded petal by petal
for the sake of soothsaying...
he loves me, he loves me not.