Living in a world with no honest leader.
Every single day comes a new victor,
using the people's heart to paint the picture of fear.

When will we escape the rampant greed running amuck?
Become our own leaders and stop giving a fuck.

When asked questions like these, the defenders only have a mouthful.
The reins of power should be in the hands of the masses,
known as the powerful.

They shake at night with terrors of their past.
They finally understand they have worn a fake mask.

When will we stop eating from a government feeder?
Finally equalize and balance the power teeter.
We must, living in a world with no honest leader.

A wide and expanding world dilate our technology,
revolutionary thoughts and conflict initiate an evolving psychology.

Simplicity in life no longer here as we form double personalities nearly on in the same, as we all have an assumed second name.

Simplicity in life sacrificed for evolution and integrated minds, or is this just the plan of humankind's masterminds?

We forget the health and happiness of past struggle, as todays anxious, depressed, and integrated minds smuggle in double trouble.

A non-conventional look at the current state of globalization, including both pros and cons. Whats your opinion?

‘Tis no irony that Poe ‘twas a
Poet and a greater man
Of words than any other
Man that lived o’er the
Sun and under the starry
Night sky.

a lyrical piece that my mind mustered
Daina 2d

And what do I know about love?

The sound of the spring whispering
Like her sweet lips are pressed to my ear

Days get cold
But only for a moment
Spring is giving the winter the last few breaths of fresh air
That it has left.

Her arms wrap around me
The slow breeze
Just like it fondles the trees
Not for a moment to I feel the tiredness
The opportunities quiver within

Soon it is
I will feel the touch of her soft spring skin.
But before this time
I have to allow transition

And I'm just fine with that
When it's done
I'll have a rose like no other.

I found a tiny blue rose in some craft stuff today. It's been give me a little adventure tonight. Thought I lost it, it turned up in the bottom of my pocket. Then it fell into a little bowl of water.
But none of the other tiny roses I also grabbed did this.

Sometimes I pretend to be a poet
Because poetry is art
And art is beautiful forever,
Whether its burned, scratched, or torn apart

And you can judge me all you want
The little lines and splatters of ink everywhere
Judge me across the window pane
Like I'm a broken masterpiece beyond repair

All these words written in the night
All these emotions painted on my skin
Admire me from afar, sweetheart
Or you'll see the darkness within

One step too close you might break me
Shatter all my endless walls
Break my skin and cut me so deep
That I may never stop the fall

One little cut is all it takes
Watch my words bleed onto the page

One little tear until it breaks
Watch my demons flood onto the stage

One little cut,
One little tear,
One broken smile,
Watch it all disappear

One little word,
One little line,
One broken poet,
Well, the end is near...

It might be misinterpreted, but then again the beautiful part about poetry is that it can be interpreted multiple ways... Still needs to be edited but feel free to leave your emotions on this page :)

it burns black—
god made our
eyes see each
other so my
tender heart could

what could be more intimate than an eye contact?

You promise you would always be there but that was before your heart fooled you. She will never love you because she has loved someone who has the same blood as you. He has felt her toss & turned inside her & left a mark. But don't act like you have not meant the world to her. You were a friend before anything. You've never kissed or made love but the way you look at her tells it all. He is in love with someone that doesn't love him back & why does she have to be me. I've never been the one to break hearts but what I've done to you is like premeditated murder.

Did you just call me ugly?
How blind could you be?
Don't you know that I got God inside of me?
Tell me dear....
So, full of pride and so focused on your youthful looks.
How much makeup?
How much pride?
How many people?
Will be at your side,
When you close your eyes for the last time.
Tried to be sexy at times myself.
Those ideas blew up in my face.
Got a lot of regret debts
anchored down in the valleys of the wrinkles on my face.
Did you know I used to have abs?
Not anymore.
One day I heard my stomach having a private conversation,
with gravity.
Gravity said, 'Winning!'
Took my abs away.
Gave me arthritis and a fever in its place.
I fart so much.
I swear someone has a gun to my ass.
It is so fucked up,
when the pistol starts to cry and laugh.
I need a walker most of the time.
I guess the only crime I committed was staying alive.
Yeah, I am old.
So, what! I made it this far.
Take your ass on and be thankful for who you are.
You don't know how good you got it.
You can still get around,
Without leaving fun size Hersey bars behind on the ground.
'Hey, old dude, what Hersey bars are you referring to you?  The thing I see behind you are chocolate bars,
With corn toppings.
The old man starts to laugh.
The young lady says, 'Do you mean to tell me that you shitted, while you were talking to me this whole time?
The young lady began to puke.
'Baby, I didn't shit on myself. My ass did all the work. I haven't been able to control my bladder for a few months now. Here is a tissue for your mouth though?'
'Did you just hand me your depends?' The young lady said.
'Yep! These Depends never judge me and makes me feel very special.'
The young lady walks away, as she continues to puke.
The old guy says, 'She is so slow. I thought that she would have given me my Depends diaper back.
'Uh oh! What am I going to doo-do in now? That girl stole my Depends!

(C) Copyrighted

A poem on aging.

'I am regenerating.
A soul takes its
transitory step
from a caterpillar's last breaths.
The healing white lights of change renews
my soul's infinite quest.
Suddenly, a rainbow butterfly emerges to claim the waiting sky.
For I am reborn.
as the Cosmic Butterfly Eyes
of the Loving Divine.'

Copyrighted (C)

Evening princess,
I think of you while swinging from clouds
And holding your favorite flowers
Evening princess,
Your ruby realizations
Tell a story of reckless love
Evening princess,
Take your pretty bow to the stars
Evening princess,
You smash the glass of convention

© Matthew Goff

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