I want to
write your name
in the sky,
but the wind
blows the cloud
and pours me the rain,
so I think
your name
will be erased
again.

i write poetry
my name is mark and it does
not really matter

You want my pictures so bad, but never stopped to ask my middle name, nope simply to look at my nice frame. Never noticed the color of my eyes, you were just too **** focused on my thighs. Not where I'm from, but "hey, nice ***". Just give me a smile, don't be so hostile.You never asked my favorite food, only if I was "in the mood". You like my lace, not really my face. Asked if I was alone so you could be shown. But you never once asked my middle name.

A.C.

They say that love is blind
The truth is just, love is pure.
She is patient, she is kind,
She’s unrefined and yet, demure.

Through her looking glass she sees
Spots of flaws and marks of pain
Why do you cry so much, darling?
How can I never make you feel that way again?

Love should know that beauty fades,
She should know that looks are weak
But love cannot be easily stuck in place
Not all who claim to find can truly seek.

Are you the measure of the man?
So wonderful in writing
But is your face too faithless
Shockingly unbeguiling.

Is love so shallow that she can’t see
How you give her the world?
But is it her prerogative to be
After those who make the heart twirl?

Will love be another one with a seven
With plenty of zeros to his name?
How does her nature suffer
When it is love you seek to tame?