I wouldn't be surprised if my eyes were out of tears,
I've seen so much heart ache the last 21 years,
And still here I stand with a smile on my face,
I figure to grow bitter would be such a waste,
Of the beautiful gift my mom and dad gave me,
I hold all the power so I'll use it to save me,
And try as I might sometimes I still get down,
I know the flip side of a smile is a frown,
So I take the bad with the good and remain thankful,
Training this mind to see chaos as tranquil,
With a soul full of hope I have to carry on,
And try to make an inpact before my time is gone,
It hasn't all been good but its all been worth it,
Sometimes wisdom looks like pain on the surface,
Coming to place where you can't handle anymore,
Just shows you your strength and what you can endure,
And so far thats everything because I haven't broken yet,
I wish somethings didn't happen but I have no regrets,
Because the price of pain is knowledge gained,
Like a homeless man begging for change,
Self diagnosed insane because I didn't know my mental,
I think the best thing to do is let this stress make me gentle.

I love you dad.

I've always admired
the hands of a poet
fragile, yet capable of telling
the most breathtaking stories
and writing down
the most frightful thoughts
in the form of ravishing metaphors
so no one really gets
how dreadful they really are

the hands of a poet
can take you to a place
that’s constructed out of time and illusions
the hands of a poet
can lift you up
and make you fly
they can take you to the only place
that they would call shelter

I’ve always admired
the hands of a poet
because they can form the letters
so resolutely
while the words are still pondered about
they can make words look
like they’re on the right place

the hands of a poet
aren’t as damaged as their feelings
and unlike the mind of a poet,
they age
until the poet can’t write
the beautiful thoughts down anymore

Do you really love me?
or just love to hurt me,
to take control
and use my body
but where is soul?
You never care
maybe you just can't,
you are a soulless
horror of the night,
my nightmare,
that came alive
and I let you take me,
head over heels,
you leave me so empty,
you just use me,
then you leave
and I am nothing,
I feel so worthless
God, I can't take this,
I'm dying every night,
I want your heart
and you just my body...

The seductress on my mind
Lives in full on expression
Laced in the free confines
And platitudes of direction

The sequential confessions
A private march of signs
Lead aggressive regression
A spinal tap of times

Timid forms of prose
Do not impose, much
In the way of speech
Or the ways of preach

A dandelion blossoms
Fully under direction
Of gunfire and hellfire
Made in mans *****

A milk which is colored
A dark, rusting, crimson
For this is the gift adorned
An antiquated prison

A dream once flowed upon
The rivers that line my arms
Texts of pharaohs charmed
With distant songs sung  

Yet, not distant enough
Into a further realm of
Steak, salmon, wine, and
Pontification, a type sublime

Cardiac and stop and frisk arrests
Psychedelics and prophylactics
Insomniacs and chipper morn birds
Courage and numbing fear tactics

Topics are churned forward
As thoughts are yearned for
But are seldom rewarded
Without snide comments

Even if contorted to fit
Daily textbook definitions
A raindrop is precipitation
Not tears from eyes of perdition

Said a jeering member of an alley
A gatekeeper for all of Hades
A living reminder of what shape
Controls societies minions a plenty

I believe you are a queen lost in time
You are the seductress on my mind
The boom-bap of 90s street art hop
A collection of lives birthed caught

You are the desire of my epicenter
The freezing of my two lips together
A culture of desire and of fortune
A soft room with croons in tunes

I believe you are not pink matter
You are the color scheme in the sun
A serpent slithering within disaster
A tale of victory and woe as one

Tears sting the edges of my eyes
As shadows are cast upon my soul
A tree in mourning for it's seeds
As oil desecrates, dry, shallow soil

When did this become a love poem?
Atop the raft my dreams have flowed
Wordsmiths fashion sturdy homes  
To heal the word and to help growth

Inside one of these I fled and bled
In it I found fish, water, and bread
Self-hate and despair had spread
Until it was fully excreted in death

The seductress on my mind brought:
Dandelions with smoke from gunfire
Milk which was crimson in color
Pharaohs songs of golden charm
A conversation in full, and open arms
Arms that held my dreams with calm

Constructs of love and poetic meals
Heal the surface of darkness scorn
Feeding the soul of it's sullen needs
A return to an innocence unborn

A silence broken through memories.
Her seraphic voice called out;
“My friend, where have you been?”
We both have been through the mystery.
Now that the sour years have passed
Our splintered souls can swell again.

A shift in evidence.
The most gentle sound struck through the chaos.