If someone is being kind and saying hi
You should at least have the decency to look them in the eye

Some people see light in me
Fire inside that I don't see
Burning bulb of a spirit sweet
Expectations I fail to meet

Some people think I am great
Love the pieces I create
Only imperfections there
A decent work is oh-so-rare

Some people know the things that I have done
Battles fought but never won
Yet they love me despite my wrong
Believing it made me strong

Some people wish I would try
Push myself until I cry
They don't realize that I do
The fire in me just won't shine through

Some people see grief inside
One I so carefully hide
Because I understand but they don't see
Some people cannot be what you want them to be

There's a tightness in my chest as I gasp for air
Hugging my frame I wonder how these thoughts began.

How had my mind betrayed me so bitterly.

I feel as if somedays my vessel leaves me tied in bed in the morning, bringing me the stories of today when it returns tonight.

________________

"Did I smile today?"

She smirks, running her hand through my stale hair.

"Yes," She whispers, slipping into the cold covers.  "Everyone believed it."

I hug her close despite the emptiness she brings me; trying to remember what it was like before she came.

Mission Impossible

Your mission should you choose to accept it?
May be tougher than total disease eradicated
Slower than abolition of third word poverty
No pinnacle as high as a career in true poetry

You will be deprived of all satellite navigation
Ostracised b friends n fair weather neighbours
Unarmed just words are your feeble protection
Your existence denied , should they ever get u

Let me warn you my brave poet friend
Take heed, you may think it no problem
Write all this free verse indeed w’ a vengeance
But once your outside defending fair maidens

Vanity n pride are left behind at your station
Your mind be clogged with a million quotations
This text , it destructs thru your own hesitation
Poet laureate you are not in my estimation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 1st November 2018.

My friends always wondered
How come my feet
Are always hard
with thick yellow skin.

And I tell them,
"I like to get lost."

"What does that mean?"

"Some nights I can't be
The self I painted in
The morning,
so without warning
I have to go see
What I am actually."

"That is?"

"It is someone else
in each layer."

Focus your attention somewhen else.
The somewhom you remember
is gathered dusty on the shelf.

Some other time.
A phrase some good, mostly bad.
Focus on the times in which you  had.

**** it. Keep in time, in the then,
forget the now and the soon to be when.
Get lost. *******.
Pout about it until you deign to sin.

Forget yourself.
Earn your regret.