Before it's too late,


                                                         ­  because nothing's worse than
                                                            ­                                                  too
                                                                ­                                                     late.

She's dark, yet
moonlight glows
inside her soft-eyes
& despite her
tragic-aura,
I still want
her blackness,
to taste her magic,
to kiss
the devil inside her.

You think it hurts
You think it hurts to cut
But in reality,
I need something worse
It doesn't hurt enough.

S.E

Emaciated bones
Shivering in shrunken clothes.

Wrinkled faces,tired eyes
Watching the sun is their only prize.

Tears burn their cut up skin
Work injures up their shins.

They cannot speak for they weep for their farmlands
They are so used to work,even with their old hands.

They are dying,dying like flies
Because they are poor and these are their lives

When its winter the cold is not appreciated.

But when the sun beats down and rubs us in sticky sweat,we miss that little cold and that coat of white