#whose
Whose heart is mine
When I'm defined in emotions?
The way people speak,
Make me a different shade
And those I meet and leave
Have left their mark
To display.
Whose heart is mine,
When the world
Erases my fault.
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 4:09 PM UTC
An old hag, I tell ya,
She read my palm,
And revealed it.
That only momentary pleasures,
Were written in my destiny,
Of varying measures.
I agree to some extent,
Only torment is permanent,
As pleasures are just temporary.
Lost within myself they often get,
Like a delightful chocolate bar,
Akin to one from a beer bar.
Dissatisfied with every happiness,
Half filled with unspilled tears,
The other half of lost years.
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 1:14 AM UTC
O whose women
That beautiful
Women walking
Down the
Road o in the
Summers sun she's
As bright as
The hot summers sun
She is truly
Beautiful I'm
Truly in o
Love o whose
That beautiful
Women
Walking down
The road
In the hot
Summers sun o
I'm truly in
Love.
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
Whose got the answers?
Rise oh rise!
Whose got the answers now?
Whose criticizing?
Oh rise, oh rise?
Whose criticizing now?
Who thinks they know,
and who knows they think?
Trumping their thoughts,
onto me?
Who knows what's right,
and who knows what's wrong?
Who has the answers to fix everyone?
Tell me, oh tell me,
I just have to know,
whose got the answers now?
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
Sleep.
Sleep child,
til' the light overpowers the darkness inside,
where I secretly cried.
I secretly tried,
but no one would guess,
and I never put my cards face up.
It's only ketchup.
Used to patch up,
the cut and scratch ups,
caused by the dull
of my pencil,
and my soul.
I fell,
but I dragged myself up again,
back into my daily skin,
and I'm that burden.
That one whose not fully there,
told by everyone, "you just don't care",
with a random shudder scare.
The words I despise you all think,
even the shrink,
and it drowns me to the sink.
I'm that disaster,
everyone's after,
maniacal laughter.
"Am I losing my mind?"
"Is this mind really mine?"
"Would dying be fine?"
I'm not so refined :)
I can see the things in perfect imagery,
things I don't want to see,
always worried everyone hates me.
I can't see,
I'm not me,
I'm not even a somebody.
Maybe inside is some other ghost,
I'm the host,
at my death let's just have a toast.
Til' death do we part,
take it as a new start,
buy the roses to my grave from walmart.
I didn't think I mattered anyways,
sleeping through these pass-me-by days,
my mind playing simon says.
I always secretly try,
but I am still I,
and now simon says ".....goodbye."
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC