#overdone
I searched for what I was missing
Discovered something else instead
It certainly filled the hole inside
Filled me up with lead
Now I've adapted different versions
Of the face I wear each day
It's hard to tell the truth apart
From the broken lies I say
Tried to **** the sadness
Looking for a cure
But I murdered more than intended
Which parts I am not sure
Past lingered like cheap perfume
I couldn't stand the smell
So I doused myself in gasoline
It seems it burned a little too well
Have I overdone it?
Invading every pore
Every cell in my body rearranged
At least Im not like I was before
Jan 6, 2020
Jan 6, 2020 at 12:50 AM UTC
I can't say what I want to you,
because it is held up in my chest,
I want to scream and let it out,
but I fear that is not best.
They always say never show your hand,
for a modest man is admirable,
but now I must make my stand,
and put myself all in,
by telling you that I love you.
It is not just a love that you see in the flicks,
or the type that you read in the books,
my love is like a thousand bricks,
landing upon your head.................
**** the formalities. **** the artistry.
There is no art in love,
there are no metaphors,
similes,
onomatopoeias...
There is only that unheard of force which keeps me going,
the battery to my soul,
the engine to my heart.
There is only that unheard of lift when I hear your voice,
it flies me above the clouds,
letting me see what I can be.
The only art which I can see,
which involves loves beauty,
is the masterpiece that the lord made,
when he graced us with you my fair maid.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
Enraptured in divine embrace
Two lovers on the precipice.
Cast outward from on high
Seeing nothing but love in their eye
Through the clouds they fell and tumbled
In true content their two hearts rumbled
Passion flourished in the sky
Momentary lightning in her eye
A playful taste upon the ear
And drew her lover ever nearer.
Resist not her temptation could he
And so clutched her close in quiet glee.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
It is overdone to write a love poem,
speaking of how the clouds separate when you are around,
and how your voice is a heavenly sound.
It is overdone to write a love poem,
talking of how your heart is pure,
and how I am sick and you are the cure.
It is overdone to write a love poem,
but that is what I have done,
and compared to you there are none.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC