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Jul 29 · 307
New Type of Thought
All too often the view is bleak,
generations under scrutiny and constant critique.

When all that lies within is misery,
all it might take is a tweak.

A new perspective.

A new technique.

To open the mind and think.

All too often we're blind to the beauty surrounding,
it can enlighten and be astounding.

Your spirit begins grounding.

A different view that seems to be organically compounding,
and tears fall as life's true nature becomes clear and resounding.
Feb 20 · 325
The Meditative Step
Still and aware now as the energy begins to stir,
my racing thoughts now begin to slur.

Consistent practice has titled me connoisseur.

A silencer.

Free from my past saboteur.

We all "were",
and next step must occur.
Feb 14 · 470
Brighter Day
Escaped from past pain and can now explain.

The epic fall and tragedy from within humanities food chain.

I said I can explain,
as I have begun to train.

Looking towards a light that illuminates the darkest of eyes and times.

How much of such brightness can I contain and retain?

What I know is I've already lived my last dark days.

I said I can explain,
no longer connected to a ball and chain.

Freedom is now in the sunrise,
see the brightness in my eyes.
Jan 20 · 164
White Buffalo
Integrated thinking allows societies to exhale, finally excel.

Driven communities show in masses at full-scale,
like a church bell.

Ignited ideals spread as far and wide in detail as one can tell.

Truth-ridden thoughts evolve the concious people past the outdated tall-tale.

The White Buffalo, the holy grail, the unveiling of life's undetermined fairytale.
Jan 20 · 567
Clear Change
Fearful and lost in the despair of time.

Debtful to most in this life of grime.

Hopeful and dishonest looking for some change.

When all this time the key to the cage were just letters on a page.

The will to fight, true discovery and insight. The power to finally view with clear sight.
Jan 6 · 144
Impossible Fate
Monsters crawl within the mind of us all,
but the courage lies within how far we're willing
to methodically crawl.

Unbearable pressure creeping within one's self-doubt.
Are you willing to honest spout?
Will you climb the mountain face and a top it shout?

Impossible challenges lie ahead and insurmountable pain,
but the truth of such misery is a priceless gain.

Is life laughable?
Is happiness attainable?

Only you decide the fate of what you become,
so rejoice that you can trek the maze and not succumb.

You are you and there is only one.
Oct 2018 · 311
Eternal Wrath
The woods we wander through are never-ending,
over-extending our stay in search of eternal mending.

Can I find the truth?

Can I mature past the bloom of youth?

We all wander and create our own path,
a warpath with an inevitable eternal wrath.
Oct 2018 · 267
Seconds Away
Life is but a fickle and fragile game,
constant pain and pressure create inner ill fame.

As we watch time pass like droplets upon a window frame, we are suddenly awoken by an extinguished flame.

Shock, despair, devastation now all we imagine and watch in full frame, we see no hope and want something to blame.

Their is never anything to blame or claim.

It is just time passing through and through, the inexplicably untamed. Untamed life. Seconds away from the afterlife.
Jun 2018 · 1.0k
Without Gain
Without creativity we lose the flame.

Without sincerity we lose the humane.

Without poetry we forget past pain.

Without pain we never gain.

Without knowledge we only remain, and never break from restrain.

With growth we finally free the brain.
Jun 2018 · 474
Confusing Love
Who am I if I'm not alive enough to see?

Who can I become with so much internal deceit?

Who and what is a soul when it's become lost?

Who and what is remembered when I'm forgot?

We all traverse pain, we all know it's true name.

The cold eternal flame that is universally the same, the fuel to this almighty game of life we confusingly play.
Apr 2018 · 384
Mind Anchor
The unforgiving grasp tightens on our minds, and sinks faster than an anchor.

The unrecognizable emotions rip and tear the morality of even our best thinker.

The unjustifiable nonsense occurring has a globalized society acting consistently "faker".

The mind and reality can be united, finally at peace, if we only knew the truth behind our creator.

Our true maker.

The answer is simple.

The answer creates a giant ripple.

The answer of our creator would allow everyone to sprint, even the *******.
A poem on how simple and united our world could be if religion were eliminated through the irrefutable discovery of how we truly came to be.
Apr 2018 · 361
Bland Hand
Seeping into this mattress the only consistency I know now, the only object I recognize is my stoic unchanging frown.

Running away always seems the viable choice, but the lonely mind is succumbed to having no voice.

The choice is directly in front of me and my hand, yet it looks so hideously bland, I don't understand.

When will my soul become a part of this confusing land?

So easily forgotten, do we remember the bright days of playing in the sand?

When dreams were always ingrained in the inevitable plan?

We all seem to forget the small thought of no matter what I can.
Feb 2018 · 1.3k
Faded Tree
Desperate claws towards the fading sunset, wishing for one last duet.

Pestering pleas towards the fading trees, withering leaves as I can never please.

Inevitable tears as I accept this is the end, as I see you float away from our riverbend.
Poem on the last desperate attempts we’ve all made to save a relationship.
Feb 2018 · 438
Organic Law
The mountains around reinvigorating life, the kaleidoscope of nature initiating a sheathed knife.

The beauty perplexing the greatest of mind, too often blind to the undefined and unrefined.

Taking a second to be in awe, the beauty of it all, the beauty of absolute organic law.
Feb 2018 · 437
The Fraudulent Quack
Chattering boxes are but the brain at work, with dreary thoughts doing the consistent work.

Laughable laughs come out as bold lies, as the true core we barely adore slowly dies.

With true words never being spoken, will the dark spell of the fraudulent counterfeits ever be broken?

The world is now digital and synthetic, and the almighty aesthetic is now genetic.
Oct 2017 · 475
Torn, shattered, ripped to shreds.

So many unknown feelings fill the youth's head.

Fighting to get back where we once were, all the times we had before.

Torn, shattered, finally looking ahead.

The world is brighter as we look beyond the deathbed.

No worries or anxiety overwhelming the overfed.

Standing on our own, not an ounce of selfishness in the intent.

Dreaming through the night not the day, living in the present, content.

People jubilate to the sound of their own drum.

Finally, jamming out to our own strum.
Oct 2017 · 515
The Realist
The mistakes we make in life can make us crumble,
two bricks withering down can make the entire building tumble.

No matter how many times you create beauty the pessimist persists,
the mistakes always on the mind never out of the peripheral sights.

The realist looks at both sides and makes symphonies of insights.

Rise above your two mistakes and focus your lens on the beauty around.

This will lead to a building and mind on the most solid ground.
Sep 2017 · 669
Present Being
I've been on the low.

I've been taking my time,
I feel like I'm out of my mind,
It feels like my life could never be mine.

I don't wanna be alive
and let me tell you why.

All the **** speaking happening and presently occurring, as those same culprits pop up in my head as if I'm memorizing.

I've been praying for somebody to save me, but no one's heroic.
My life doesn't even matter, I know it, I know it...or at least I tell my myself that.

I'm hurting deep down but why can’t I show it?
I never had a place to call my own.
I never had a home, ain't nobody callin' my phone.

Where have you been? Where you at? What's on your mind?
They say every life precious but nobody cares about mine.

I've been on the low.
I've been taking my time.
I feel like I'm out of my mind.
It feels like my life ain't mine.
Who can relate?

-- Alex Wilson, 2017
Jul 2017 · 566
Carpe Vos!
Like a hockey team,
accomplishing the American dream.

Like Napoleon,
giving a speech to defeat the Mongolian.

Like a forgotten man's byname,
stumbling aimlessly when it's always been within his brain.

Like a relentless cricket's chirp,
always ready to exhibit pounding energy without limit.

Seize the day, today,
for yesterday cannot be replayed.
Jul 2017 · 1.5k
War in the Night
My mind can't comprehend the emotions inside,
a war fought each night I lose by a landslide.

The sheets of comfort have become an anxiety-ridden hell,
my mind unbearably racing like Van Gogh preparing a pastel.

Remedies have been given but I lay restless,
while I am helpless,
as I become anxious and continuously stress this.

Not the battles but the war I must calmly defeat,
as I finally become even on my sleep's balances.
May 2017 · 1.8k
Realities Poisonous Stew
Caught in-between a hard problem and a tragedy,
one which all thoughts conceive a calumny.

False religious declarations brought hope, a preconceived act, with all past failures examined and attacked, like a quasi-contract.

How can infinite knowledge and power create such hate, terror, and pain, similar to a suicide pact?

How does one find their own avenue? Without being stuck in the heart with a corkscrew?

Is personal discovery extinct? Do we forget the past, subconsciously ensure the failures of our future, and presently live with no imprint?

Is individuality impossible?

The characteristics are defined and distinct, but each soul's technique is quietly fluttering away from this lost mystique.

Discover the reality of you, rise up, revolt, and fight the deceitful greed and promised happiness brewed in realities poisonous stew, as it's faithful traits of trust, love, and care that create our optimistic views.

To be happy; an outdated phrase soon to be extinct.

When the downfall of morality can unfold in a blink, as we subconsciously conjure a future drearily bleak.
Apr 2017 · 1.3k
Caught up
Caught in this net of time,
the restless nights create a paradoxical paradigm.

Caught in this head of mine,
chasing after false hope that imitates the divine.

Caught in this reality of ours,
staring at the stars until we snap back into the lonely bar's guitars.
Apr 2017 · 1.6k
Our Past Fake Mask
Living in a world with no honest leader.
Every single day comes a new victor,
using the people's heart to paint the picture of fear.

When will we escape the rampant greed running amuck?
Become our own leaders and stop giving a ****.

When asked questions like these, the defenders only have a mouthful.
The reins of power should be in the hands of the masses,
known as the powerful.

They shake at night with terrors of their past.
They finally understand they have worn a fake mask.

When will we stop eating from a government feeder?
Finally equalize and balance the power teeter.
We must, living in a world with no honest leader.
Apr 2017 · 1.5k
Integrated Minds
A wide and expanding world dilate our technology,
revolutionary thoughts and conflict initiate an evolving psychology.

Simplicity in life no longer here as we form double personalities nearly on in the same, as we all have an assumed second name.

Simplicity in life sacrificed for evolution and integrated minds, or is this just the plan of humankind's masterminds?

We forget the health and happiness of past struggle, as todays anxious, depressed, and integrated minds smuggle in double trouble.
A non-conventional look at the current state of globalization, including both pros and cons. Whats your opinion?
Apr 2017 · 969
The Modern Bronze Helm
Steady pounding upon the bronze sides of hordes of men's helms,
only to realize the impenetrable god's gold is the fate of another realm.

Reincarnation, heaven and hell, 70 virgins, and many more voodoos fritter among as distraction, constructed to insurpassably shadow this pain.

Will the truth be revealed as a nonsensical stalemate?

Can we finally graduate to a more evolved interstate, and gravitate to the knowledge we accumulate over life's days.
Mar 2017 · 922
The Marionette Master
28 strings hanging from above, teetering and creaking with each of my steps.

The wood below feels as if sand seeps into my skin, making the next heavier, and heavier.

When did the world decide to become so clever?

The marionette is unnamed although the disease is written clearly across the fogged bathroom mirror.

I avert my eyes from the truth as though I could never decipher.

A slap to the face and a fluid ounce of love is all it took,
two floating hands to fix my gaze upon all I could, my own life book.

I suddenly could hear the willows whipping and dripping wet in the rain outside the brook, I was no longer deaf to the pain I caused and took.

The mental games we play are never far from the outsides the lines of our life's coloring book.

Climb to the tallest line of the page with your grappling hook.

It only takes one outside and unbiased look and the keys to the castle are unhooked.
Jan 2017 · 1.1k
No Longer Numb
Cramped, lost, and crying in my own exhausted body,
tired of spending all my money like I'm overly gaudy.

Short is this pain but long is the ornament,
until I see the path to winning this life-long tournament.

No longer numb am I, yet still caught in a gasp.
New knowledge instilled that ferociously connected the dots, and at long last filled in the gaps.
Jan 2017 · 794
The Pleasure of Pain
Cramped, lost, and crying in my own worn out body,
with loss of hope to become somebody.

Short is this vivid pain,
too long is this bright ornament,
until I finally see the point of it.

No longer numb yet still caught in a gasp,
until I finally connect the dots and filled in the gaps.
Dec 2016 · 696
Out of Reach
Pinnacle moments pass us by quickly and sharply.
Cynical thoughts control the fear marking out goals in Sharpie.

Mental games of why do I deserve such pain, even partly,
and coinciding emotions of loss amongst those not even as lovely, I finally feel this pain heartily.

One bad decision, one bad night, one terrible choice is the only ignition that was needed to begin the arson.
My apology was weak and imitated the sincerity of a disgruntled garçon, still in disbelief that my train of thought was easily that of a *****.

Love is a fickle sport we play and the secret formula is still out of my reach.
I will metamorphize into the one who is cracking the glass towards the anticipatory breach.
A lesson you subconsciously teach and I see that not all past stains can be cleaned with even the most powerful bleach.

I now know how I hurt you with my actions and eternal contract breach, like Richard Nixon I deserve the death penalty charge of being impeached, making you now just out of reach.

All I can say is sorry for all I have done, I love you, but I guess it's just a figure of speech.
Dec 2016 · 722
Your Hidden Pearl
In and out of the dreaded dream,
when all I see at night is my own nightmarish reality.

Until I accept the truth, constantly scrambling in my head,
I will not know myself and the stress and worry that could leave me dead.

I sit on this thought and ponder the point to our world,
when will I find myself, escape, and find my own hidden pearl.

I discovered the perfect pearl with an unmatched beauty or swirl,
only reminding me of the waving patterns in your flowing hair and locks of golden curls.

Growing strong and seeing the truth.

While I become the man who drank from the fountain of youth.
Dec 2016 · 839
Nonstop Wartimes
I calibrate and exuberate when I bring my new level,
these girls look me in my eyes and lie to me they can't push the right pedal.

I wish I knew a girl true to the heart and not after an agenda,
a real love rather than the alternative such as Splenda.

When will I learn this love is practically unattainable in this crazy world, especially in this globalized Computerworld.

Call me pessimistic or just down right ****,
or maybe I'm just roughly stubbly part of this muggy money.

I wish we were utopian and part of simpler times,
but this is unreasonable and not realistic as we live in lifetimes of nonstop wartimes.
Dec 2016 · 711
Fire-Lined Avenue
Trouble around the corner, any area you stare.
Leaving you hopeless, tired, and without a care.

Doing things in life like it's from a kid's dare,
Making you second guess reality as it may appear.

A bucket of water splashed across your face with an overwhelming dose of adversity to evolve the neuroplastic mind.

A friend who will listen intently with no judgment to find within your unrefined fight for serenity and peace of mind, no longer quarantined.

You are your own, you're not the epitome of the pain,
you are the person who should be boasting the rest as insane.

For when we all go through a fire-lined avenue of trial,
you can stand grounded, strong, and justifiable,
as your life, pain, and utter strength is now undeniable.

- For Brian
Dec 2016 · 1.1k
Everlasting Deja Vu
A rapid beating heart that stands next to you always,
I find myself atop this life intertwined between these melodic days.

Fight and quarrel about is the normality of human nature,
for it's those that can heal the wounds through love and pure conversation who should sign the everlasting legislature.

Love is a fickle sport of chance it seems,
cheers and jeers from the moonlit love we all yearn for in our dreams.

I'm emotionally tearing at the seams as I am done with these schemes,
no more joining of the socially pressured regimes.

Your love is all I need and all that is true,
I want to live every moment with you again and again as an everlasting deja vu.
Dec 2016 · 984
The General Antony
The human definition of humanity is becoming a conundrum-filled calamity.

Vivid memories of eclectic booming sounds continue bursting around veterans as they lose sanity.

Mothers work through their pregnancies as their children are born into a materialistically filled world of profanity.

Has the wheel of morality begun an uncontrollable spin in our growing urbanity, or is because of the religious wars we fight, the likes of Christianity?

A travesty amongst us all, but this pain brings an unorthodox form of healing, as we learn from our mistakes and fantasy.

We ******* band together, with our thoughts in groups, to determine a path back towards our morality.

We fight with vigor such as if we were the Roman General Antony.

These fruitless and segmented fights can make the matters worse no matter the strategy.

We must all wake up at once from our mindless love of insanity, and finally, throw to the wayside this world's cruel vanity.

Who or what will ignite the single uniting thought to spread instantly throughout, the thought that will bring peace to our mind, sanity.
Dec 2016 · 891
Quenching Honesty
What does it take to feel alive?

The hug of a mother? The pull of a trigger? A new high to desire?

The social networking of this world has lost its true form and art. The mouth is not for lying rather for cleansing.

Honesty is a form of quenching.

You'll never lose the people and things that truly matter, those are the artifacts and tools to feel alive. Life itself.
Dec 2016 · 753
Describe Worth
Describe yourself. Describe this world. Describe a tree. Describe an iPhone, a dung beetle, a circling vulture, a pill you swallow daily.

Things, millions of things, are occurring simultaneously around us and it is up to us what we decide to describe as note-worthy.

We mentally decide what is praiseworthy.

Strive to describe only that which is worthy, when we are surrounded by so much that unworthy.
Dec 2016 · 938
Moonlight Happiness
Mediating throughout my body is a shivering cold, the winter is here and snowfall is now of old, yet I continue shaking in a blindfold.

Wandering aimlessly in these woods of life,
trying to fixate and aim and not ***** the competing wildlife.

My one chance to make it in this forest,
I must listen as though I am this woods leading aurist.

All of this preparation for one shot at a "happy life",
a cookie-cutter form of "what to do" with your knife.

As a twig snaps beneath me and all is spooked I suddenly realize,
I now hypothesize that I must revolutionize my own "happy life"

I sprint through from and away the woods without a second of regret or care of the startling noise I paraded through these sacred woods, the bright moon leading me to all that I wanted...happiness.
Nov 2016 · 4.8k
Nostalgic Unity
I feel decompressed and lethargic,
as I continue scrolling through my online soul only to see a kind-hearted person now nostalgic.

Why can't we all feel the same?

Why does the world seem to be aflame?

It's because we all try to accomplish being perfect,
and when we spot "convicts" we don't even detect we inflict neglect.

The thought of unity is fading away as is the hippie way,
a late anniversary bouquet whittling away,
a smoking cigarette left around the ashtray, dying this midsummers day.

Why is this thought so crazy anyway?

The change starts internally,
and can only be finished by an honest community,
one where we can all live with our acquired mental immunity.

Finally, peace sets within our unity.
Oct 2016 · 493
Nightmare of a Lady
Tick tock I hear the clock. Sweating and flaming inside the sheets, when will this nightmare become what it truly is, a dream. Not reality.

I can't awaken, not even after my best pinch, as I fall deeper into my fear I quickly realize I'm on stage. Performing for just one in the crowd, finally feeling deep inside the cringe.

Naked and afraid on the inside, appearing confident and sculpted from outside, as if made of clay.

Melting away by the second from the constant flames, liquid drops falling to the floor splashing, and crashing, as we do what seems like play.

****** ambitions always stay, but true love and relationships float away.

I can't hold onto how, or keep fighting this fight. This is just the present situation, and this girls heart won't stay together tonight.

Smashing and crumbling hearts to pieces becoming a normal routine, where the true effect is slid beneath the rug, beneath the feet of where we're *******.

Changing myself, evolving into a new chapter and turning a page.
Tired of this ****, the feeling of rage from being in a locked cage.

I will break free of this war I wage.
I will break free and stop my irrational jeer, finally, I will celebrate the moment with this lady, not the nightmare.
Sep 2016 · 821
Through Time
Through anarchy, you gain fame.

Through monarchy, you claim an executive name.

Through trial, you earn a new automobile.

Through a steal, you gain a first class meal.

Throughout it all, you learn that the battle is not worth the fall.

Throughout it all, you learn how to find your natural call.
One of my better poems I think, as it can be very difficult creating rhymes aligned with the same rhyme throughout; without losing any authenticity or creativity. Hope you enjoy.
Sep 2016 · 709
Prepare the Perfect Storm
Never stay bitter, always maintain your positive mental attitude.

Never proclaim yourself as rude or crude, even when rarely understood.

Evil lurks and stalks at every corner, seeping into every facet of life preparing the perfect storm for a shocked mourner.

Societies new idiocracies somehow grew, and grew, while peace bent and waned beyond its known limit, as the first crunch echoed from the u-shaped bamboo, all greedy intent was now all spent.

Rise above the masses, and lead your own personal thought.

All these years kept in the dark, tons and tons of distraught,
when this pain is the only sensation necessary to uncover the hidden truths, and the malicious blind-spots.
Sep 2016 · 2.8k
Ounces of Pride Earned
Commit ****** then flip an ounce, a nonchalant verse that promotes the internal joust, with
pride earned as the only badge that counts.

Tap the snare drum for a bar, or vibing melody,
our backwards society stereotypes "thugs" as, "what drugs are they selling me?"

Rap is art in raw form,
intended to excite the youth who see death as a norm, the daily street storm.

Women de-humanized for a buck,
men taught to only treat them good if they **** and don't run out of luck.

The concrete jungles can only have just one king upon a throne, as the vicious cyclone continues destroying futures of the youth unless they succeed in the booth.

Youth commit ****** then flip an ounce,
pride earned needs to be denounced.
Sep 2016 · 894
The Nightly Pillow Fight
The prancing sheep evade my mind and eat upon greener pastures.

I squirm and wince at every thought that repetitively repeats, "just go to sleep", while tracing back the day's steps and weighing the factors.

Why must my mind be so out of sync with the tune of my body?

The wise would advise physical exhaustion is not sufficient ammo to defend against morphing into a groggy zombie.

Insomnia? No...I can have a good night, windows open and naturally closed eyes.

Anxiety? life is too right, for me to not realize this sleep is just something I idiotically idolize.

Change? Yes...I can grow and stow away any thoughts which summon the riot, organize the files and endless waiting miles.

Minutes to hours, hours to frustration,
all until a simple revelation, I've had singular control of the entire situation.

Through meditation, finally free of this voluntary probation.

For no longer do I fear my head touching those precious feathers, and no longer wince at the warm and fleece-ridden wrapping like tethers.

I can now dim the blinding internal light, and tear from the controlling reigns that started this nightly pillow fight.
Sep 2016 · 989
Safari Job Hunting
I briskly walk heel-to-toe in order to keep my surprise,
equipped and prepared with deadly ammunition from the wise.

I spot many targets running clearly in and out of plain sight,
as I methodically recite the magical words for entering the limelight.

Other hunters encircle and stalk the same prey,
each of their minds accelerating towards the main entree.

Encompassed and imprisoned by materialistic greed,
and it all started from a small seed, the creation of currency.

The few who control these jobs drink any ambrosia of their picking,
simultaneously tossing constituents bones about after tooth picking.

Too much is never enough, yet we all throw out the crust.

The world's insatiable thirst is much more than these agenda-based bluffs, it is all about making a job market for that too tough?
My ambition is withering.
Cheers to the day when the pain ceases simmering.

My senses numbed and dull,
climbing into a mad state of power topped with energy, no longer beautiful.

My exterior is only a mask to the mayhem brewing and invading, as my interior is instantly stripped of all innocent glimmering.

The smallest of spark will ignite my flame,
a new pain that will bring an actual feeling, considering.

The flint and rock hit, as the heat rises and begins blistering.

Calmness is all I feel in this heated moment of usual irrationality,
a bliss peace peels open my eyelids to a simpler reality.

No longer do I pace back and forth alone,
booming shouts of unrelenting and steady voice high, never below.

I welcome the engage of the rage and only shiver as comfort is dissipating from the beautifully illuminated stage.

Just as sudden as it did begin, the pain begins withering and halts to a peaceful end.
Sep 2016 · 1.5k
Power of Poetry
Dream fast and don't describe a limit,
as we spin around this world of purity and wicked.

Is poetry the healing avenue you so desperately must cross, to ignite the rocket fuel inside us...and for once...see past the gloss?

Move past the greed of materialistic comfort,
outrun the inexhaustive shadows that can only bring suffers.

Escape your facade of reality which is your own construction,
and turn your pain into your own harmoniously beautiful art production.

Once you see that you are not alone, as the pain is happening globally,
you will finally ingest and release the power of poetry.
Sep 2016 · 875
He's No Longer About
Pain, suffering, mourning about it all.
Why can't I understand the meaning of it all, God's true call?

I thought about it long and without mistake,
I filled my mind with love and prayed until I heard no refrain.

My thoughts rebound and ricochet about,
I can't control it and neither can these restless legs who want to shout.

I realize now it truly all is in my head,
for me personally...God is dead.
Aug 2016 · 786
Moral Fence
Tagged on the wall as a symbol of my emotions, thoughts and sense.
Giving life to the chaos in my head, guarded by a moral fence.

Seen as a punk, and never taken as creative,
always wondering when the blue lights show if he can escape it.

Rebellious and stubborn is the label.

They don’t understand when you’re out there you’re free.
You can finally open your eyes and truly see,
that this urban canvas in front of me, is how I express emotionally.
Jul 2016 · 575
All Aligned
Burning rays of sunshine floating through the windows,
seemingly flawless gleams of light come into view as vivid luminosity, elegantly shimmering throughout a newly defined Disco.

Lustrous eyes willingly glare at sparkling streaks, rays, happy as the illumination spreads fully and evenly throughout,  steadily engulfing a tired mind.

A time of peace, or is this all intertwined?

Suddenly hopeful of a new design that is perfectly undefined.

The streaks of light were never assigned,
which is the solid evidence needed to believe we are all aligned.
****, I really enjoyed and liked this write. Hope you enjoy it also, as it is a rare "happy" poem from me, about the little things in life, and how they can create inspiration no matter how common or small it is.
Jul 2016 · 2.2k
A Gentleman
A gentleman holds my hand.

A man pulls my hair.

A soulmate will do both.

― Alessandra Torre
A poem on how to treat women, and I always remember these simple words.
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