Some say 'shyness is pride'
Some say 'shyness is cowardness'
Well what do the shy say?
They are well guarded,
With a wall so high and thick,
With traps and the unknown,
A fortress concealing what?
If shyness were pride,
Could it conceal great weapons?
If that were so,
Will those weapons bring benefits of utter destruction?
Should it be regarded as selfish or humble?
If shyness is cowardness,
could it conceal weakness?
If that were so,
Shouldn't the shy be regarded as being strong in a way?
The shy are mysterious and often misunderstood,
But really, what do the shy say?
We might never know,
Considering the fact they never reveal anything,
Be it great or not.

Y can feel the cold wind
the moon is high , the lion inside
crawls , the helmet stop the metamorfosis
mi tooths are sharp my roar is crawling to
my throat .

in the night , think in licans , mi hearts is with them
mis claws are poping out , the lion is out ,
and y feel pity for the little creep .

mi head is booming and i can't stop , the roar
is stock in my throat , it comes out , is not a howl ,
is not a cry , is the lion in my guts asking for a way out ,
his claws , are my claws his teeths are mine ,

y think in the beauty , and her beasty **** eyes ,
a roar comes out , the bikes speed up , thinking in
gonzo  ,  running his bike ,  touring his lican ,
avoiding the **** , a claim for mercy for the
mortal , while the beast crawls for the skin .

suddenly the beast is out , everything around you sounds
different, night is yours , the claws are out ,
feeling pity and a rush , loews night , the effect is cool .
you keep speeding up , you feel the rage , making your roar ,
put fith , 120 km. are enough , hopefully .


you speed up , the bike don't go faster , the rage is booming
the eco in your head , claims for the blood of fresh **** .
the full moon talks your language the city is your hunting ground ,
thinking in lestat ,  hearing bach under a howling moon  , the claws get to your gloves popping out, full moon again son , carefull says lestat voice .



but the full moon talks your language  ,  she talks to your lion ,
she says in his ears , feed lion feed , take your paws , use the fangs
the city is your hunting ground , the lion is out your eyes are red
the beast took your heart , think in dogs , licans are lucky they have their clans , youre alone  ,  the city is ******* yours to take , the lion's walks alone .


think in nat geo , hoping they show some fresh **** ,
hoping for a lions feast , eating , with ****** faces , and a full
mouth , thinking in
mi lyonnesse . feeling ***** , the beast is out ,
cant stop , looking people like prays , in your hunting
ground ... every one is a pray  , looking for a child molester ,
for an assassin , there's no crime in killing creeps , the lion
makes excuses , for the **** , moon is up , you wait for a while
then speed up , and again thinking in the little creep . you scream impotent , it was your right , little beasty knows , he was lucky  , now they know how lucky they ***** , claws come back in . your  lucky to be live .

the moon is gone the lion is in , waiting to crawl back out , thinking in the running , in the heart of a creep , the feast of eating his creepy little heart , gas is enough , y will make it to the  cave , thinking in beautiful
lionesses , naked lionesses , their skin their softness , thinking in the
beauty that loves you but is too scared to face the music in her chicken **** heart , good tastes  too many wrongs , she  cant handle it .



the lion crawl back in ,  the helmet deed his job and protect mi head ,
the blood taste in my mouth , feels good , the fang is always out , like
a remainder ,  a message to your face , be cool , the bike brakes in the red light , you look the little creep , crawling to you , you see his dog out , he smells you , the roar scares him , his creepy yellow eyes , but he knows better .


the hummingbird of the morning sings , talking to the sun , mi eyes are hurting me . the night was good no one died , only the lion ,  rest in peace , very deep inside my chest .
the blood moon wakes you up , think in the coliseum ,the  loews feasts
the killings , the blood , the roman ladies , in the streets no one , looks at you , beneath the monet sykes , everyone , walks with the certainty , for their  own certainties , the blood moon wakes every cell in my body the lion claims for a way out , y only see prays , in a ****** red moon .
    


the house is quiet , my teeths are in , y bite my lips ,
take the shorts  up for a run  , throwing all the rage , in the ****** moon the creeps knows better ,  but still , thinking in the cowardness of being inside , having a creep , inside a ****** closet with 80 years old , pitty is an excuse , he knows better deep in his creepy little heart knowing he was ,  only a lucky little rat .


the feast in natgeo , is cool thinking in the creepy enemy , getting eaten alive by hyenas , eaten to the bone , screaming for mercy , thats  happy
or wishful thinking , oh the beast is there ,  yet , deep down you know that is there , waiting  , looking the prays , but that is the secret , that everyone have  it , only few knows it , and control it , as y do
screaming and roaring beneath the ****** moon .



now i'm calm waiting for a day sleep , having the certainty that my beast is controlled , and the blood feast , are just my wishful thinking .
in the nigth ride , think in blake , tiger tiger in the night .
why your eyes shine so bright , that's my line , your eyes shine , the night is your day , the creep is everywhere , here i am  scream some creep defender , thanks the lord , for your life , and dont scream at me defending that crap . the lion talks to people , don't defend **** ,
luckily i'm used to hold on and hold back , in the ****** night , someone says here we are ,  y say , so what , nothing works for you ,
, whats the point , of being there , illogical and creepy , think again your lucky to be alive . y hear knives out by radiohead and  y think in destroy that creepy evil little rat , that almost destroy mi life , and y say to the rat your ******* lucky to be alive .

       c'est tout, je adore.

In time she'll stop looking back
With bitterness at all the
Boys that ate the frosting and
Ignored the layers of cake;
Substance and endless surprises.

death before dishonor
is it all about the name
or is all about the respect
  will you die before dishonor
  or dishonor your self and live
shall you die with honor
and no fear  and be know
  or live with being
dishonor from your pride
and know that
your living your sins
because you choose to
dishonor yourself with
your cowardness or
fearless and honored
as one who had
     no fear
death before dishonor

connected with love
there lais the ****
and itchi

as a dard , a poisonous
and **** pain

love is a heartbreak,
pain is refreshing,

as an addicted to feel,
don't specting but pain

and spittings, then the suffering,
after all happens, they love me, back

after the hurt, i don't look back,
used to , feeling their
love,
after i'm trew

like an insomniac,
feeling the love
after the hurt

like a heartless man,
specting some brave femme,

that holds mi hand,
DURING,

not after is over,
AFTER THE SPITS
AND THE HATE,
y never look back.

c'est tout c'est tout.
but love is all over

after i clean my face
i can't feel it no more,

pride or wise,
who knows , who .

no regrets, im lucky ,
for trie to love,

maybe is not love , is
only passion, and pain,

like a ******, or a fool
who knows, could i love her
yes

should i love her
NO

respect and
compassion,
are essential,

should i no, could i,
maybe i can't, not being
is a curse, in some way

not being  was my cruce,
and can't use it as a crutch

and my curse sting like the bugs
for the creeps system,

like a cyborg, with a camera, in my eye,
and a phone, in my ear and my ***,

maybe cyborgs,
can't be loved , in
the right time, or
cowardness winns,and

is a rule, in the circles of
hate, some wankers are.

some peace and
privacy, would be cool

my life is like nutshell
the only one of y kind

no common points, all alone
nothing cost, all is easy,

love, even hate, physics,
and humanity, more human
than humans.

in the end, love
probes he's there,

watching, threw his strings,

should i could i


who knows, who knows
connected, and painful
is the road,

LOOKING SOMETHING
SWEET, AS STRAWBERRY
MARMALADE,
ON HER **** BODY

but is only pain
what's left, and the spits
on my face. should i

maybe, but i can't.
after all the pain,
and the smile, on
the creeps faces,

but connected is the pain,
with the trie to love,

but i can't love the spits
on my face.
could i, who knows who knows.

pride or wise, love o hate,
respect is essential,
in everything, love or hate.

respect is what's left, should
y  love the one who help that ****

pride or wise, who knows
respect is all is left.

respect is love,
pain is not, and know
is all what's left.

sweet and itchi
**** *** hell,
like the venom,

of the snake ,
is that old,
****, heart pain.

He tells her he loves her
and hes telling the truth?
how does she know its true?
when he tells her shes stupid?
when he puts the bruises reminding her of that night?
when he screams in her face?
when he pushes her against the wall with the gun to her head
seconds from killing her?
when she cries at night and he tells her to shut up?
No
That is not love
Love is not cowardness
HE is cowardness
and THATS the truth..

the shadow in the corner,
looks at me, whispers,
and whispers, at me ear,

looking for a way, to
become and merge with me.
as an insisting parasite,

as a shadow inside me,
but  futile, and vain,
i'm too egotic, to let him.

enjoying my years of pain,
as a heartless man,
but the whispers, share his
childish flashes, a futile pursuit.

to myself, to be merge,
with creeps, cowards,
and annoyingly vain.

the poets secret crown,  of
lovers in heaven, golden and
invisible, but made of pain.

cover my head, as a dead poet,
passing at this era, not blind or
vain, but true, and loving every girl.

even those i hate, the sexi hip bones.
the ego of a lion, never can be merge,
with a creep, pathetic and weak,
but he tries still.

wise by pain and deceit,
a lover in the prime, longing,
loving, watching, smelling them all.

with or without, gauche or droit.
tout le femme, e belle et magnifique,
comme le pleure de madeleine,
le sacre femme.

and this shadow, in me ear,
wants to be me,and make them feel,
complete and divine, as a goddess.
as y make them feel.

or a lioness, in the hand of a fouling,
and feverishly beast. burning and longing,
for the tresor, in their chalis, as mother earth,
smelling as her, as a jungle, and a door,
to infinite delights, between their thighs.

the shadow in my ear, y can see her pain,
but, it was his ******* choice, trie to be me,
and didn't make it, for being weak.

as an adult, inside the veil,
of a mouse's in a suit, the persistence
is futile, a shadow, trying in vain,

to be as me, but can't be but himself.
a lame little shadow mouse, in loved,
with a beast, can't love until she love
herself.

can't live or know anybody,
until he knows himself, and accept
his truth, until that happens, nothing,
will save him from him,
and his shame, is a cross.

as a man, can't live, as a boy either.
just as a shadow, in my body, trying to be me.
but failing at it, to weak and vain, to be me.

all y think, as i watch her, is thinking,
and for this  ****,  almost burn my ***,
and destroy my life, good choices, babes

but all wrongs, can't be forgiven,
or excused. all the pain was
hell on earth, but still unbreakable.


and loving even those that y still
hate, the lover's love even **** haters.

covered by lies, y emerge from the hell

some girls create, for the one, who wasn't.
an they where never me.
and now anyone can see. it was only
lies and deceit, little girls playing dodgeball,

for the shame of the creeps
not everything can be forgiven,
as y say,  good choice babes.

20 years later, they still can't be me,
or not feel ashamed for their weakness,
or accepting their fate, and being without
feeling a ******* disgrace,

but nothing to
be ashamed of,
just their cowardness,
like tigers not accepting
the stripes,

creepy shadow on my wall,
you will never be me.
accept it and be free,

or you'll end up blowing lucy,
in the basement, loving the burning,
of HELL.

as THE shadow of a mouse,
in Lucy's playground,
suffering, and being only
you, the one you hate.

but you never were me.

We all have an aura .. Around our bodies
Aura magnetic aura's are they
Like a magnet one side attracts the other
Pushes some things thus so away

How often has one said she's lovely he's not
What had her choose him wondering why
How often has one been drawn to another
So many have remarked re this cannot deny

Walking into a room one's drawn to another
Or as well pushed away from one the see
It's like a magnet pulling pushing drawing
It's the science of lovedoing it's thing  basicly

One's aura is a powerful thing at times in life
Doing as it does so often naturally in it's way
Bringing souls together or rejecting them
Without us knowing often upon night or day

Aura's indicate positive negative like dislike
It's a natural thing that surrounds us true
Aura's read Red anger Yellow cowardness
And sadness at times comes in shades of blue

terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018

The ***** don't hold me no more,
Not tempted to go down that line,
Just to stop thinking and to feel somehow alive,
It was a destructive time, that's for sure
The nauseau it gave, the nerves it played
No good ever came from this game

It runs in my genes,
But it will not bring me to my knees,
I've managed better without,
Than I ever would with

I drank to gain courage
I drank to be myself
I drank out of cowardness,
that's what I did

Afraid to be sober
What would they think of me?
What would they say?
When I was drunk,
I simply did not care

I drank to feel happy
Or feel nothing at all
I drank to be promiscuous
To fill the void in my soul
I drank to meet you,
Because I was afraid to say hello

I started to drink to get by,
And felt empty when not,
I drew the line at that point,
To stop myself from selfdestruct

I've seen those paths firsthand,
From I was little to now,
I choose my life,
Not the alcohol in sight

The pain that it causes,
To both the person itself and those around,
Are worse than the agony
of keeping yourself sober...

Catch you
my breath,
shambolic hope,
flustered thought.

Take you:
glimmer kissed tear,
aphotic state,
penny drop.

Hold you
my ridicule,
cowardness,
dreary repetitive wish.

Their weight devours me so.