I loaned you my heart
but you tore it apart and now
I can't give it away

No one wants to try
nevermind buy
this solidified lump of clay

Oh! How I love to write my feelings for you
You're my knight who saves me for feeling blue
Feeling these butterflies were new
In my stomach, I wonder how they flew.

Oh! How I love to write tales of you
I Iove you and this feelings were true
Even there were so many battles I went through
I want to win these fights with you

Why must I always think in verse?
Is it a talent?
More like a curse
All day long songs pour through my head
But before they hit paper, they're usually dead
A few survive, most get archived and others quickly deleteted
It doesn't take more than a couple of lines to know you've been defeated

I lift my pen at the scent of the coming rain.
The wind rises, and I sense the pain gathering strength
and after a beat or two, the drizzle scouts my face
- but I smile.

I have my compass, the North Star
and the maps I made before.
I can still climb this new stanza
navigate past the memorials,
through to the meadows beyond
and I can rest there, refill my pen with the rain
and write again.

My poetry starts with a single cell that multiplies quickly
and spreads like hell

Words intoxicate me
like a really cheap wine
And I think silly thoughts
that I turn into rhymes

Some of it's good
A lot of it's bad
But it's the only DNA
I'll ever have

What left of me
Is my scattered words
Here and there
They don't mix and match anymore
They're just a floating words
No flows, no directions
I lost you.
I lost them.

What left of me
Is my scarred heart
To write is to force to accept.
But finding my words back
Is not accepting I lost you
I thought it would ****
But only when I write
I will never lost you.

snowflakes
fall little by little,
this town becomes
whiter and whiter.

sparrows
move to a warmer place,
trees somehow
have fallen asleep.

no blossoms bloom,
no soothing tune,
somehow, I'm missing you.

snowflakes
fade away little by little,
this town become
brighter and brighter.

perhaps, you'll come to me,
like the spring promised to me.

or perhaps, I shall cherish
the cherry blossoms
for I've gone through that
all alone.

fascinating, like the aroma of tea,
pleasing moon to have a drink.
like the liquor, it brings the glee,
overfill my cup but not to drunk.

tonight, let's paint the town red,
there in my throat the odours overspread.
under the moonlight, I dance with my shadow,
holding a wine, too fine to swallow.

I'm not drunk and it might be true,
stumbling and murmuring on the way back home.
my life is not utterly dark nor blue,
I'm just missing him and the dawn.

It's 4:30am
I cant sleep
I cant stop thinking about
All the things
I want to write about

Is this passion?
I hope so.