I am an Ink pen
In the guidance of someone skilled I can create amazing things
Solve difficult problems, even make the future.
My hard work, blood sweat and tears roll on the paper
Whatever I do will leave a mark.
I strive to make bold lines and make it easy writing for the hands that push me in the right directions.
I am an Ink pen that can erase.
My mistakes will leave a mark, but I won’t let them take up anymore room on my page.
I leave marks that could stand the tests of time, but with just a thought make them unknown
I am an Ink pen
I write to be read and heard not to please.
I will write a piece that’ll last through time etched in this small piece of paper I am given.

Poetry  is  the

    cosmic

song for human being

and it make cool down

no fire can warm it.

If not now, maybe in the future
When we're grown, sober even
Loved you through it all
While we were drugged & young
In the future, hopefully
It will still be there
& we can get it to work
Cause I know
You're my person
And I don't know how to be
Any bit of me, without you
For now, i'll grow, alone but free
Till then
We'll just have to see
How things could be
If it's nothing more
But a intoxicated love
We once shared.  

.

He doesn't realise...
The weight of his actions and words that pummel her to the ground.
Beating her down for every time she rises up to undo his ropes with which she's bound.

He doesn't see...
Past the darkened lenses that she dons.
She wears them,
not to shield her pride that was wrongfully taken,
but to protect him from the repercussions that would come with accusatory speculations.

He doesn't know...
Of the soaked pillow that accompanied her.
The rivulets of tears...
She had quietly shed without a whimper.

He doesn't hear...
The silent altercation between the treasure that beats in her chest and the thing that thinks in her head.
The struggle that ensues when the mind tries to rescind what the heart had wholly given and carelessly said.

He doesn't care...
To think of the devastating waves that come.
Only to erode the last bastion of hope she nurtures...
This frail wall that she prays for nightly.
Just so that it would hold up through another day's endeavour.

He doesn't feel...
The need for empathy.
For he thinks that he's god with one devout follower.
He commands her loyalty with his deluded testaments
and his fists as sceptre.

She doesn't live...
To see future suns.
For her day finally set when it all came down.
The wall she had feebly held together with her life...
Easily gave way when he came at her armed with a knife.

.

Sell me Pocahontas
She is only seventeen
Paid in full for a painted skull
And a million apple trees

Guide me, native spirit
Teach me how to speak
To tell them why they have to die
And why they're so weak

Pocahontas, come with me  
Take my hand and you'll see

The land of fallen glory
Of courageous family men
Fought for truth and killed the youth
After we called them friends

Pocahontas, come with me  
Take my hand and you'll see

Listen to my promise
This is my desire
Just sign the line and close your eyes
As I set your home on fire