Some wounds never heal.
Vandalized left open for interpretation.
For this it takes serious strength,
To end reoccurring enactment.
Yet he demands.
Almost begging at the waist.
She offers him shelter.
He continues to selfishly take.
She wears woven sweaters.
To hide the deep bruise.
As a grown man he lashes out.
Over and over like a child.
She eventually gives, he gets his way almost until nothing is left.
His relentless cry, not even a child to call their own.
She understands that this isn't the way.
Yet she grows tired, anxiously waiting.
With each bruise she recognizes the difference.
That not all is what it seems.
physically she rejects reality.
Emotionally she cries out.
She suppresses all to keep positive attitude.
This bruise she hides runs deep.
Unable to heal, known relief of vain.
To invest in commitment requires a great deal of time.
Time she's given plenty of.
She one day dreams that one day she will wake up and all will be a dream.
To immediately wake up,
Finding the woman she use to be.
Most folk call her crazy.
The reason she stays.
She takes another pill.
Soon,
All will be a dream

Loosen your collar,
Untie your tie.
Remove the worrying furrow,
From between your eyes.

Roll up your sleeves,
Kick off your shoes,
A pair of flip flops -
Those old ones'll do.

No thought, no man..
No treasure, no dime,
That brings you down,
Is worth any time.

There, that's better.
Now that you've found you,
Sing your heart out,
And dance away the blues

Lyrics sink into my memory
Beat, into my heart,
Music, into my soul.
They stay with me uninvited
They mock me when I’m scared,
And torture me when I’m confused
Blocking out my worries
No matter how important they seems
They scream at the top of their voice
Without missing any dime of the track

Lyrics lures my mind into a lazy reputation
Sinking me deep, deep down into its ocean of scented water
Beats compels me to listen to the rhythmical sound behind the beat
Transporting me far beyond what I behold
Music dazzles the image in my mind causing them to multiply in tons
Thereby overcrowding my brain with maze of mystical ideas
Making it hard to marge up the mystical master piece.

Lyric steals my breath away
Music makes me lose my sanity
lyrics, Beats and Music makes me stop in my track,
And listen over and over again!...
Ah!... how I wish Al-Fruqon  will have the same wonderful eff

Poets are murderers
Yes we are.
We are teachers of the ultimate truth
We enlighten the universe of the foundation of life
We teach them love
With sweet tongues we forge our words
Making them into beautiful sounds for the ears
And pleasant sight to the eyes.
We feed their hearts with fantasies and pleasant tales
That make their soul hunger for this sacred truth called love.
Then fate flips the cards
Attention here and there from strangers we never knew
Disciples we never saw, followers who clung to our every word
Pleading for that sacred love that we taught
But this love is not ours, we are only messengers of this
Sacred love that most of us never had.
It becomes our duty to **** their innocent heart
And shatter their simple soul with the bitter truth
That they fell in love with the poem and not the poet.