Azure tears fall from her cloudy face.
Depression leaving an inky trace.
She feels thick eyebrows of despair.
Cherry lips are now no longer happy
but pout down in ****** flair.
Curls are now strait in her hair.
There's no illusion everyone
wants to leave her.
There is no shock leaving
a lemony after taste.
Yet no sugar for her ultimate despair.

Letters of revelry were coming from
a unknown knight.
Mortification singed his lies
in the untimely light.
She tested his love by saying
there was none.
No surprise that he left
her cloudy and alone.
The end came in the letter that left
dark dread all around.
Inky sadness makes a dreary sound.

She now hides in a golden cave.
Woodpeckers drill a sign saying
knights aren't able to save.
Waves are always billowing
over the sunny path that she is
trying to engrave.
Clouds hide and protect her from the world.
Her dreams are like cotton packing.
Someday the sun will rise in her cloudy face.
She will find a surprise king to take his place.

A skeleton pets a pterodactyl.
Clusters of dragonflies.
Hear the stasis calling.
Ocean waves flying.
Bones are stomping.
Clouds are falling.
Poems rot at dawn.
There are words I’ll never say.
There’s bitterness I need to slay.
Shorter is always better.

I'm running along the tracks.
The geese fly against the climate in arrow packs.
My meandering thoughts won't hit the brake.
The river beside me seems to understand my
thoughts because its rhythm is roaring.
The tears fall down on the window of my face.


The train is moving fast.
I'm running on this stammering
track to escape my past.
My head is steaming.
This heart of mine is
desperately chugging along.
My mind cries full speed ahead.
The soul would helplessly
rather rest instead.


I hum a song to keep my body strong.
These legs are burning coals but
the train sounds its final warning.
The engine sings run a long, run a long or
this may be your final song.


My running dilemma derails before
the train screeches to a stop.
Dreams of glee are worth having in a
lonely tree house.
Money only paves the streets
of emptiness.
After all there isn't grass
on the other side.
Where the famous always try to hide.


Triumph is already stressed in
the lines of my face.
Rewards are traced in Gods grace.
Do you hear the blood running
through my veins?
It congratulates me for winning
my life's deadly race.

Desperation *****
more than anyone knows.
Yet It feels like NO one ever
experiences it except you.
Depression high fives
it as it dives down.
Desperation makes me feel
like never needing friends.
Which isn’t true.
Yet it also makes me feel like
I have too many friends.
Which also isn’t true.
It makes me feel like
blocking myself.
If only there was a vacation
to factory reset.
Probably too many people would
jump on that ride.
Everyone has desperation though
even if they don’t know it.
They might know it but
they don’t care to admit it.

My rain is turning into hail.
You stand next to me.
Yet I can't see you.

You always inspire me.
Yet I can't hear you.

You break the heart in me.
Yet I can't feel you.

You have no name.
Yet I look for it.

Some how you always comfort me.
Yet I still need you.

You’re my invisible man.
Only God can make you appear.
Love should evaporate my fear.

Until I meet you my mind
will be on  repeat.
My heart is a drum
that can hardly beat.

Please say my hopes will
rise from concrete.
Or I shall be alive but
gradually forgotton.
I shall be an
invisible woman.

Tattoos and dyed hair.
They collect dust in your dreams.
Popularity plays a duet with loneliness.
Isolation surfs on sighs and smiles.
You pull out the car breaks of your bitterness.
There’s always one more wire that you missed.
Your castles fold into a cardboard box then it all collapses.
Popularity is an antique that’s broken.
You no longer want it fixed.
Where is the syringe of cringe when you need it?
Why do you not want attention anymore?
So now you know why your younger
self doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.
Goodbye.

She dyed her hair pink & green.
Most people want her not to be heard or seen.
A girl too ignored to be a normal teen.
A syringe has collapsed the
creativity in her soul.
Everyone criticizes this rebel Queen.
Yet they all wonder why she can't behave.
They don't see her trying to be brave.
The taunting has made tradition seem foolish.

She shouldn't find peace in cutting.
God needs to heal the scars in her soul.
Everyone should pray for her and not
give her sour advice.
People give her warm stares that turn into ice.
This could freeze her dreams.
She stands in blue jeans with ripped up seams.
Hardships muffle her screams.
An Orphan needs a home without
moving boards or beams.
Everythings make believe in her
mind because no one ever takes the time.


Will God give someone the courage
to look at her ignored heart.
She doesnt want to be on a statistics chart.
Her appearance begs for filial love to start.
Change her but don't tear her apart.
Her creativity shouldn't be choked
like kudzu in a flower garden.
Tattooing is her preferred art.
She needs to learn to use it
in other ways besides tearing
out the car breaks.
Love turns into tragedy because
everyone leaves.


Shes been ignored.
Her feelings have been stored.
Tears have not been answered.
Smiles are forced.
Permanent homes are highly priced.
God needs to change their hearts.
Please don't judge her
by the rebal Facade.
Someday she will be loved because
theres more to her than just pink and
green dye.