Inside of her is a poem that any paper can't handle

She grabbed a pen
With an ink that as lonely as the darkest hue

She cries but words heals
Words heals her wounds.
Words heals all the pain

But in the end,
She's writing for someone
Who don't care.

Time is hear,
Time ticks near,
Tick tock, goes the clock  
Time breaks, all stop
Time bleeds,
time heals

Tick tock goes the clock time to go
The end is near, Father Time bleeds a single time, goes to past, present,future, covered with blood fresh from wound,

****** handle with ****** hands
Toucher and pain it's all it has, fifth and live or fifth and die, time is not at my side. Time forgives and time forgets, time kills to save some time. Time gives or time takes all. Whenever it's always there Whenever I need some time.

It isn't true when people say pain heals over time. Sure, you move on, and sure, you live your life again, but the agony never leaves you. Time only allows you to survive, to handle the pain that you have.

I’ve never
had a bruise
that lasted
more than the
amount of
time it took
for me to
forget how
it got there

Time slows,
             it kills.
        Time fasts,
                   it heals.

I've swallowed whole my humble pie
For years now without remorse
I was content to leave it all as such
And let all things take its 'natural' course
But then I learned I could take a pen
And weave words around a rhythmic display
If it wasn't for that fateful chance
I wouldn't be half the man I am today

Because when I get sad, I close the door
And I cry
But when I get sad and think of these words
I get by

These words are my reconciliation
To a life in which I can relate
But I feel so shameful
When I chose mine
Because I chose mine

For years to come, I would covet this
A final poem, a final prose
And in the hours that past me by
I never seem to write any of those
These words I love to put to the test
As if tried and true never failed
And in my path comes consequence
of the catered streams where they wade
I've used them up, I've brought them down
On many, oft without mercy or delay
Without them, I'd never get this far
I'd never tell you in this way

But when I get here and close the door
I can get by
But when I'm alone with these words
I still cry

These words are my appreciation
Something I can dedicate
But it’s often so painful
When I chose mine
Because I chose mine

©2015 Neal Emanuelson

Everyone is wrong,
even me
there is only one
right,  he's three

In a world
full of falsehoods
ignoring the double edged
Truth

Instead of masking
my shortcomings
I'd rather bleed
as I read

Grant me Courage
Love,  and Understanding