Money talks

Truth walks

Green paints a new world

Blood red stains the profit

of pain unfurled

From those who seek its power

Above life

A sick patient

On the operating table

Gets the treatment

Suffocation in quicksands of poverty

You bleed to death

Inspiration appears to only belong to the wealthy and their benefits

Brought the 62
Eight of Swords burned in carpet
Told me you'd bound me

No, I don’t want to die.
I like writing poetry
I like to cry
Enjoy my art!
For it comes with heart
No need ask why
Let your mind be free, be dark,
                                          be soft!
Or if you insist
I’ll leave you with this:
You may, of course kindly, just *******!

Strings,
So finely woven
Entwined with threads of truth,
Of harsh realities
And with every cut,
The weight grows unbearable
And the unbearable becomes restless
Until you're holding onto
Latching onto
Fingers burning onto
The last string
The last standing string
- that is Faith.

Of course you found out you love me now
Of course you want me when someone else has me

Of course you realize you want to be with me now
Of course you promise you will prove you're true and real

Of course the timing is off
Of course fate threw us another out of reach curve ball

Because, what do we have together anyway besides bad timing?

I like showing off
Sometimes
1% of what I am
But then
I feel like I gave them too much of me

I was moving towards you
And you were standing on a Cliff
And beside you was someone I didn't knew
After knowing I found myself fall off
From the same surface where you two stood strong

A simple solution
To all the world’s problems-
Have you tried turning it
Off and on again?