Now I'll walk down that grubby old road, the same one I'd always run through when I was happy to go home, when I was free enough to be inspired by the expanse of greyed-out asphalt that led me home or away, and I'll feel nothing. I've never liked the word "nothing", because it was a useless answer to any question and a waste of a loaded word. Nonetheless, that was undoubtedly what it felt like, sliding my shoes across the pebbles, litter and pollution coating the aging path toward what used to feel like my home. Now it, and this asphalt, was a sort of limbo - a space I inhabited between paychecks and numbing social catastrophes, the place at which my deliveries of obliviously impersonal mail were dumped. When you find yourself lost (ha) in the standard crises you know every human being has tasted in one way or another, it feels juvenile, childish, frivolous. But we feel that way anyway.

Giggle giggle **** ****
chuckle chuckle hard heart.
Lose the formal wording part,
just rhyme with nonsense works of art

**** art
Words are art
Parts of art
Those parts of art seen with your
hard heart
Soften up and see the humour
With a giggle giggle **** ****

The distance between us,
Isn't just physical,
You're intelligent but infantile,

Big ego so fragile,
When you don't get your way,
You ignore me for at least a day,

Mood swings so quick,
This emotional coaster makes me sick.
I'm beginning to think,
The age difference will make us sink,

Down into a hateful dark abyss.
Last night you didn't say you love me or give a kiss.
There are miles between us,

When it comes to conflict resolution and maturity,
You're drowning aggression and insecurity.
You say you're fragile, well so am I.
But I don't purposefully try to make you cry.

The tactics you use,
Are borderline verbal abuse.
An ocean of distrust,
Every time I'm filled with more disgust.

Becoming numb to the rising tide,
My true feelings I will no longer hide.
You think you're some kind of god,
But you forget I'm an atheist.
I don't believe that gods exist.

You put my patience to the test.
I'm tired of these petty arguments; give it a rest.
So to your bitter maelstrom,
I will strongly resist.

This tidal wave of anger, angst, and absurdity,
Carries me further out to sea,
I want you sailing far away from me.

Firstly when I was a kid                              
I used to think that                            
People who are fool                                  
they only go to School                              
and people like me who are cool                  
they just watch shin Chan and ****** dooby doo                                              
people like me needn't go to school                                                
and take all that woo                                    
if not done homework                              
do sit- ups, one –two one – two              
for people like me school is not a place to be                                                                    
if mother is the first tutor                        
then why should I have a secondary        
oh gosh! How could I go to a school      
where being cool like me is compared to be as a fool

A poem, a poem I've got to write.
But nothing seems to come tonight.
I guess I'm just not very bright
When it comes to writing poems.

I crumple paper sheet on sheet.
I think of deadlines I'm to meet.
I haven't time to sleep or eat;
I've GOT to write a poem!

The time ticks on --it's two o'clock
Our light's the last one on the block.
Perhaps if I could take walk
I could better write a poem.

Then suddenly I get a thought--
I put it down to the very last dot…
And then I think, "It's not so hot."
Why CAN'T I write a poem?

But then I say, "'Twil have to do."
The morn is come; the night is through.
I'm tired but proud, I can tell you,
'Cause I just wrote a poem.
                        ^^^

I've learned a few things from you
And from the situation, a multitude.
I'm not to blame, for you can't just point fingers to relieve your shame.
You know, it's hurt in a way,
showed me how ungrateful I am to those who make me feel home.
I'd rather be learning, seeing lessons up close,
Than concealed and shushed to safety.
These experiences create me.
I never knew how long I could with stand pacing.
Do not run and hide, you'll always be with your own self,
It's pointless when your shadow is chasing.
I've witnessed your soul turn frail,
I've seen every part of you, every slick inch,
I've touched your every darkened scale.
Is it sickening to watch yourself wither?
You ought to satisfy the hunger,
that grumbling is being mistaken,
misheard for pity rather than what it's supposed to be,
forgiveness, in yourself,
which, in return, may set you free.

Such a thief, stealing so many of my glances
A Robin Hood, taking from my once rich heart
I had so much to love; yet locked it all from those outside
Allowing only collectors of childish heartbeats to enter;

Like most thieives, you work in the night
Quiet words, light touches,; you took all I had saved
If only you hadn't followed the story of Robin Hood so blindly
Because you gave my love to another.

Where are you?

Are you here, hidden away behind
the blossoms? Are the petals kissing
you now? Are the vines sheltering
you from the world and every cruelty
in it? Are the branches giving way to
your loveliness, burdened by a light
heart, a heavy soul? Are the sun’s rays
adorning you, never giving your eyelids
blessed shadows? Will I find you,
amongst the willows?

No, I do not.

I see you sitting right here
next to me,
your cheek on my shoulder.