A woman is somewhat like
   confectionaries.

If she takes a Twix,

    be it one or both.

Well then, you are in luck.

But if she is a Kit-kat,
    and takes every finger.
Then by all accounts my friend
who at best is a mar-bar at worse
     a pack of Rolo's.

Well, you're not touching the sides.

With that in mind, the tongue is wider
        and can taste a woman much better. :)

Can we hold a breath,
some are like dandelions.

The seeds may disperse,
  and we may try to clasp
             upon them.

We may tenure a few,
   but nevertheless
only certain animations
     may linger.

But even though we
   may lose so many.

The ones we have will
           grow, and even
though some dissipated
beyond our reach.

A flower of
   memories breathe on
in the wind
   flourishing brighter

                      than before.

There was once a spot,
some would say he was charcoal
others would say it's got to be coal.
then you would have the, no its dark grey.

But we'll let you decide that for now.

The spot was on the page all alone,
   he filled up quite a portion of the page.
But it's not fun being alone, so he thought
instead of a spot ill become many dots.

So slowly what was one became two, three
smaller and smaller did spot become.
After quite a time, the spot was no more but
dots sprinkled over the page, they all looked
at each other the many but still alone.

So they decided to connect slowly the large dots
shrank as they lined from one to 100.
It took a while but now they were connected.
still their individual selves but now not alone.

But the funny thing is, that when we connect
things, we see more than before.
They didn't realize that from a spot to a dot
then united. They Painted a picture, you
may ask of what could a giant spot becomes.

Well ill tell you, it had a waggy tail, four legs,
and one of the cutest barks. He ran around
the page, some dots shock loose.
landing in the middle spread out but
close enough not to be alone.

They wondered for a while what they were till
they went "Woof, Oh my gosh were a dog,
a puppy to be exact. And with that they came
up with a name, they did a vote that was only fair.
All wanted one, but you have one always
                             wanting something esle.

Well the vote was in the many had thought and
pondered, now they knew who they were going to be.
Drum roll please....
      Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat ratta-tatta-tat-tat.
And there name was to be Spot the dog,
   except the one on our ear.

He shall be known as bob.

After he had a zoomy, scuffing the edges of the
page, he settled down, ok after he'd chased his
tail just this once more.

So the story goes from one to the many,
to be more than they'd ever wished before.
We have Spot the dog and Bob the spot.
    And if your careful and don't make a sound.
You can peek through the door and see spot
running around the page, chasing his tail
and barking in the excitement that he's now more.

They think that cos they wearing badges that
its power, feeling it be like they wild west.
          thinking they catching outlaws.

When they the ones letting the shots hit unarmed
                                           hands on his head.
but they not moving as he shouted gun.

It wasn't even a mobile, they just trigger happy
                       in blue as the family was in black.

Tears aren't bringing his last word back,
                       Mum, Daddy,
last cherished thought his baby girl.
Tears fell silent as they had knees on his neck,
                         what the **** he dead
yet you thinking he needs cuffs,
                                   morality took a side step.

No one is on their knee no more,
         hands held at height trying
to reach the fallen to show that they
still being reached for.

I promise we ain't forgetting any fallen,
       we'll reach high walking the streets.
   They ain't holding pistols to this many.

Hands-on heads showing peaceful metaphors,
          we shouldn't have to be scared
of a badge that's meant to protect
                               not a knee on a neck.


Or a gunshot on an unarmed person,
                   due to his demographical heritage.
                     another fell like a tree in a forest.

But every flower has a camera and nothing
falls silently anymore.

She was silent a mute, or so they thought.
            Butterflies would frequent her abode.
Dancing around a kaleidoscope of words fluttering
around her, she was like a lantern in the dark
           and they seemed to be drawn to her.

But where colour was imbued above,
below in unseen hollow spaces,
                    there were remnant glimmers.
Fragmentation's of what was but deathly hues
enveloped in the frigid cadaverous silence.

There was no flying from where they'd fell,
                like autumn's leaves falling off the
tree of life now they were obscurity.


No one knew that she was able to talk,
          but she was an empath,
   collecting the negativity of those
                                           around her.

Everyone thought she was in a mood.
                   She'd just look at them with sad eyes.
But she played it cool to everyone around her.

They're all happy but she whispered all
             the woes of every word expelled,
she tried to play it cool..

But when she told the butterflies what she knew they
            feel frigid, cold.
   They wanted her company, but they hid under her
               bed hiding the depression that fractured

there every movement.


She always tried to show positivity,
     but the shards cut her feet underneath her
                              bed.

But above was rainbows where beneath the
                  fragmentation of emotions screamed.

I argue with you so much,
           I'll be no victim to your rules...

So why you preach that you'll be there
        when you ain't here,
two thousand years absent,
                                  
                                    Father problems..

No, you were never a father,
            more like a ghost of wishful thinking.

But I'm now not confused,
          I went through a depression,
  
But now I know the only faith I need is inward,
             I've been here before and
   I'm not playing by your verses.

Never letting ignorance lead me astray,
    Why do others think  I'm lost when
                                     in truth I'm
finally found..

She never played by the rules,
          she asked me to hide.

I wasn't going to be the victim,
  shorty had a blade but I wasn't
  into
    being  her fatality.

deviating
                    postcode, different rules.