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Jack Ghaven Jul 2016
I can only play the hand I was dealt
So no I'm not sorry for what I've felt
Life is nothing short of a gamble
And I know I tend to ramble
I'm just making the most of what I've got
Seeing if you're interested or not
Because I find you rather amazing
I'm really not the best with the phrasing

I'm a little old fashioned
With how I express my passion
Though if you would take the time
To converse with me past the rhyme
I'd hope you'd come to see
There's a whole lot more to me
Than some scattered paper and ink
Allow me to show you how I think

It's a little crazy and far-fetched
Enough that I often get shipwrecked
I blur my reality and dreams
Still don't quite know what it means
But with the woman I see
Could you really even blame me?
I can't imagine anything better
Though I fear the day she reads this letter
It's been awhile since I've written something of this length, which I find funny because that's kind of how I began when I started writing poetry.  Nice to get back to some of my roots.
Jack Ghaven Jun 2016
I honestly enjoy my head space
Even though me and my demons come face to face
So often it has become mundane
I am rather fond of my brain
Though I know all I do is overthink
So often it puts me on the brink
I've come to appreciate the extremes
And for that matter my daydreams
I fall in and out of reality
Without the slightest feeling of abnormality
Yes I am indeed quite odd
I'm broken, I'm ****** up, I'm flawed
Every day is a discovery
No I'm no in need of recovery
Intended to be happy.  A kind of awareness of my own quirks and insanity, but totally thankful for all that I am, no matter how strange.
Jack Ghaven Feb 2016
I wish you would've just set me on fire
It probably would've hurt way less
Better than knowing you're a liar
Then again I'm just a ******* mess
Just an obsessive addict
Looking for the next best fix
You were just another drug I picked
Was it all just for kicks?
That's how it all feels
You caught me up in your eyes
Persuaded a heart you could steal
And now I wish I'd died
Jack Ghaven Dec 2015
I dabble in dreams
Singing with the sirens
Masking my shrill screams
I'm searching for guidance

These eyes are empty
I'm living outside of me
My demons tempt me
Form a different reality

I spend days in a cloud of smoke
With my nose buried in my collar
The more I try the more I know I'm broke
Living lackluster life in squalor

I'm panhandling on the corner of the street
With only pieces of my broken heart in my paper cup
Yet I find it so hard to admit defeat
I'm down not out I'll pick myself back up
This seems somehow hopeful, though it doesn't feel as smooth or in depth as I'd like it to.

— The End —