When the stars dont shine

I'll know you're dead

When the grass in the prairies are yellow

I'll know you're dead

When the city lights dont catch my attention anymore

I'll know you're dead

When I dont see anymore blessings

I'll know you're dead

When the sun is the brightest thing I see in sight

I'll know you're dead because you're my light to my dark and cloudy days

When a guitars sound makes me sad everytime I hear it

I'll know you're dead

When I dont have a reason to wake up to

I'll know you're dead

When the night comes and there's no one to say "Goodnight I love you" to

I'll know you're dead

When I write you these poems
And read them to you

Dont be afraid

Because I love you and mean everything in them

You're alive, and God keeps blessing me everyday you're alive

Don't be afraid of anything, because I love you

You're alive

The night isn't so dark after all, and the dark isn't so scary after all

The sun isn't so bright after all

You're alive

How do I tell you that I love you
How do I look up and know you are there
How did I do it before
I know
With
Ill keep looking up and knowing
that I love you
and that you love me
Even if the skies look empty
as if you weren't even there
and when they are full of clouds
as if my day has just been ruined
Ill look up and know that you are looking back down
and this young girl
who is still fighting
to feel your love!!!

I start rolling up in words
I'm not controlling
I don't Mind, I never Did
I'll tell You why I lost in Lace
a trace of Time.
Romanced by Humid Heat of Night
Acrossed by Archer's pointed bow
I still stay by, I still won't Go
I drift a picture into Motion in Your Ocean,
I like how it reacts.
I wish to say I'd really like that.
I won't, but will
that's friction's mount,
pull in so tight, push back, Pour out.
Just never stop,
fill me up to the Top
and tilt it right out the Spout.

If you're a popper, I'm a bomber
If you're a romp & runner
I'm boomerang & banger

If You're a hot in the sacker
I'm a leather Queen, *** Smacker

But, seriously, En Scene, Cut, Shows Over, Curtain Call

Not one of these Scenarios Describes Anything appealing

Nor Aligned with my Temple of Love, This is Holy Sanctuary,

This is Holistic Prayer, the Ectomorph in Ecstasy.

Body Electric, Full Sense *******
My Mystical ******* is my Body's Prayer to God

The desire to be an artist,
To be a poet, to be immortal.
Knowing there's a land of words
If I can only reach the portal.
Drown in ****** and Wine
In a tub filled to the brim,
Letting France run down my throat,
Letting France run down my chin.
Words lay at the bottom
Of every bottle (or so they say)
Convincing us it's worth the *****
And the headache the next day.
Kiss goodbye the sound mind,
And enter insanity.
Welcome to the world of arts
With streets of vanity.
There stands Shakespeare on the balcony;
Kurt Cobain sits in the corner.
This place you are one
Where anywhere else you are a foreigner.
Here there is no day.
Here there is only night.
Here you sit making art
By the candle light.
But here there is no laughter,
For an artists knows no joy.
Instead here lies the dreams
Of all the dead girls and boys.
And here there is no rest,
For an artist knows no peace.
Here is the land of artists.
Is it everything you dreamed?

I have them in my mind, a place for me to use and abuse,
when alone and where no one can see.
I visualise what I need, those lovely ladies recorded
in thoughts used by me.

My neighbour she's as hot as could be,
but after to many usesshe has become a bore.
What once went hard with a thought,
now my cheese stick slumps not content,
new **** bank material is needed so on goes the TV

O ye this is good, weather girls low cut tops
in the bank they go for use later for me.
But I need that girl to light the meat, to get me well hard,
so I see one woman in the bank ready for me.

I test drive her not as good as could be,
so I swap parts saved in the file, now perfect for lonely fun.
The thought of her **** and me.

All men and woman are nearly the same,
they have a **** bank for those times when lonely.
Be it butts,legs, ******* or meat hanging or the
slit between the legs.
We all have that special some one that is with
us when are fingers and palms get happy...

You enter because you want me and you to have jam
But to make it clear, you are not welcome
I know you very wee
In to the point that you made me fell.

And trust me, that was my biggest mistake
The bad feeling that i'd rather be bake
I am trying to forget you
But you show up like mushrooms do.

You are the boss of all the sin
And you are working 24/7 to keep us mean
Yes, I expect you to exist in my life
A Trespasser who is holding a knife.

Satan you are not welcome
Turn around and never come
I'm over you and I'm so glad to lose you
A Trespasser like you deserves a boo!