grating leg bark
blinding and smooth
my hair snow is ugly but

my burning pierces your pupils
i comply and i deceive
make my mind up
every night
a different hue you must shine

"you look stunning"
yet i feel like a puzzle
i slot my imperfections into the middle
so he won't see me until he tastes me

get teased
until you pick up three-hundred degrees
as YOU tease until you like who you see

why can he be anything
but i have to recalibrate
before i can celebrate

i will never reach my final form

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
What would i do
If i loved me too?

<Insert Poem Here>

<Insert Silent Sympathies Here>

<Insert Spiraling Tenancies Here>
   (Wait...No. Not that.)
<Delete Line>

<Insert Self Doubt Here>

<Insert Friends Here>
   [File Not Found]
::Comment:: What about me?

<Insert Apology Here>

<Insert Regret Here>

<Insert Pain Here>

<Insert Poem Here>


<RvL>

'Are you pleasing those Lions?'

She thinks to herself under Nelson's Column.

'I am no hero of the Nile, nor of Trafalgar. I am an empty vessel.'

City of Angels, yet full of devils. Will she find the exit from Oblivion, in those molten, vermillion revels?

'And will you climb that stairway to heaven? Is it true that what glitters is gold?'

That golden dust, which lies on her beside table, sedative for her sorrows.

'Oh he was a foul coxcomb. England expects every heart will follow its duty!'

She is followed, by those feral eyes;
Those on the underground, those in the streets

And those who she will wish
her eyes will never meet.

Sure, I've ruined it again!
Follow me around like I'm the actual
And only problem. You'll eventually get yours!
So you think I'm the ultimate biggest of fools?

(Well, for once and for all, check yourself!)*

Nice people finish last, and there's nothing nice
About going around with personal problems, that I
Have to fit your personal standard, even when they
Are following all of the standard rules!

(To the tune of "Like a ******'.)
Not a ******,
Queen of the molls,
Not a ******,
So I've been told,
Not a ******,
I'm like, well, old,
Not a ******,
Please stop your moans,
Not a ******,
That's why men are alone,
Not  a ******,
I'm like, well, old,
Not a ******,
So I 've been told,
Not a ******,
You sound like a ***,
Get over it!!!!!

There are people, by popular opinion, too insignificant and too small.
But the majesty of a masterpiece lies in it's tiniest intricacies!

-The Silent Poet.

To polling stations
Going out in droves,
With their unanimous voice,
Electors made clear their choice-
“A  breath of fresh air
Would be fair! ”
But as a democracy patrons
Also democracy vendors,
You thought-
“Better an old Satan
Than an angel new born,
The heart of a new angel,
We may not crack open!”

As peace brokers,
To dissuade voters
You dinned into their ears,
“Democracy is a process!
Thus it entails
The gradual unfolding of rights!
Specially in developing nations,
It is tardy in striking roots!”
You also went to say
“The ill-favoured government ,
Though by ballot card made out of play
And adamant to let power away,
A midwife to self-determination
Had paved the way
For the fairness you enjoy today.
Imagine the price it had to pay!”
Tirelessly you pleaded voters
To see reasons
And give the government
A time-out and stalemate,
Also to let it take part
In a joint government!
The hardest way
What people learnt today
Is democracy is indeed a process
That could suffer setbacks,
Or experience a lapse
And down clutters
A tyranny abyss!

Double dealers
Now as a democracy undertaker
You venture to offer
A hearse,
What a farce!

As history
Recorded it in its annals
Go ahead fish in troubled water,
By your very nature
You are capable
To do nothing better!