She had no place to go.
Walls around her,
Trapped in her own mind.
So many ideas
Locked behind the bars of
Imagination.
Covered all over
With lies of forced secrecy.
What lurks for her next?
Added greed and deception,
Growling.
Won't someone help her?
Save her from seclusion,
From pure elusive destruction?
She's no fit on her own
Not from herself,
Not after what happened.
Her world now destroyed,
It was only her self esteem.
Her will to be herself,
Remain independent.
Her soul, now cursed,
Screams for a way out.
If only there was an opening, a merciful light.
But instead a dark, Aged, Relentless being.

O Golden Hair, My Friend

Kitty kitty
So fluffy
So witty
So unbearably pretty.
Stay away from
The city,
My kitty kitty
It'd be such a pity.



Hussanara

This is my mango.
There are many like it,
But this one is
Mine.
Without me,
My mango is useless.
Without my Mango,
I am useless...



My Sweet Wonderful Mary

Dark dim witty kitty
Trailed into New York City
With bad intents inevitably
Bad.
Through Earth and lake committing
All its great natural giving
Forced utter pain incoming,
Dad.



Lord (Religious readers please take no offense again the writer was not quite there)

God is a champ.
The bearded light upstairs.
He's cold and he's damp
Like fresh lumpy pears.
Won't one, if you dare,
Stick your hand in the air
To clamp
Like bears?
He's a scare of
Puny people
With long ginger hair.
Whose souls the cannot
Go in there,
The holiest of despair.
They all run through his stare
Of bulging eyes he got!

Anyone want to translate that one? I sure couldn't.

Looking to the future is looking
Onward into the past.
Never may you discover
Even the dimmest
Light in the depths;
In the reality of the dark.
No escape to pleasure the
Elegant figure inside.
She lacks presence;
She lacks relief.

Life is a constant struggle
That goes on and on.
For some it is a bottomless pit,
For others a personal utopia.
For everyone it is an undefined
Mystery.
What is life?
The will to make ****** choices,
Getting lost in a dangerous city
Or lighting fire to one's phone?
Is it about the greed to succeed,
******* over one's fellow man?
Or is it about creating goals
So pointless yet so important
And trying restlessly to reach them?
Maybe it's about facing reality.
For some it's that goals are pointless,
That disappointment is imminent.
For others it's who they truly are,
That they will always lose in society.
Life is a twisted game
That cannot be won.
Every part of existence will lose.
At some point,
Everyone; everything, will die.
With reality, social status seems
Useless.
Competition is a waste of time.
Making life better for others
Is the way to make life better
For oneself,
For the World.
Life is a glass of sand
That must stop at some point.
It is not to be wasted.
Life is precious.
It is full of freedom;
Full of control.
The game; although inevitably
Tragic,
Is a game of luck.
Without luck one will
Fail.
Will you fail the game of life?