No such thing as a past life...
Your past life is today. You woke up,
Went to your work, lived by your
Lot you sustain upon, and are then
Weary from your many partures this night.
Now to find rest and safe haven the green
Grasses await you, of your bed spread,
To rise again and greet life tomorrow,
The stumbling, the fogginess of waking
up once again awaits you, no longer dead.

This is a document that you will never save
The unspoken words between you and him
Apologies
Things that can now never be sent
You copy them over, once maybe twice
Afraid that if you completely delete them they are gone
They never existed
Just like the apologies you meant to say
They fell flat before even reaching your fingertips

Thinkin' bout you is all that I really do, my mind in a spiral.
Twistin' and turnin', every second I'm learning.
As my eyes get red I keep the blunt potent with your love.
Anyway you see me soaking I'm floating in these magical words that my ***** said, keepin life in balance is all the he really did.
Now he's dead, killing himself over the riches and wealth.
I wanna keep this poem on one topic, but my mind is flowing, its goin'.
Like the late Cap $**** said, "Who wouldn't want a girl with elegance, intelligence and a cute way of presentin' it?"

it seems to be a split whether a title is significant or not
while poems are written freely, a title requires much thought
a meaningful title which embodies the piece as a whole
or perhaps a non-intrusive title to present the work is the goal
to place trivial importance on an irrelevant aspect of presentation
but some may see a meaningful gesture that requires much contemplation
there are those who see titles as creative outlets that require an imagination unbridled
however that is a point that is tough to argue when so many poems are still called Untitled

In bareness life sheds
Melting our essences
To fear our termination
In caskets it all ends

In excess life mends
A regeneration read
Generations transpired
For eons we existed

In neutral life tends
Unscripted to rest
Reassessed to subsist
Repressed to matter

Thou shan't fear death
Embraceth thine destiny
Immortalised in shrines
Till the universe climaxes

Yesterday
extremely
overwhelmed
she held me
crying a lot
let go of me
she leaves
more crying
******.

a turquoise thunder
were the color of her eyes
against her golden skin
her freckles looked like chocolate
her long brown her blowing in the strong wind
love at first sight,
a beautiful sight, the pulled me in.
as soon as she laughed, she took my heart captive

Words poured forth from your mouth and I struggled to catch them in my hand,

but alas! They slipped through my fingers like so many grains of sand.