Maybe its just me,
but I hardly ever see poems about happiness

Is it because the bad times outweigh the good?
or do they outshine them?

I lie here
time ticks by me
the Earth continues to spin.

If I stay
they keep going
- people lives, without me in.

If I move
I can join them
become a part of it all.

If I don't
will they notice?
To stay means a shorter fall.

I'm beautiful
You've told me all evening
and will tell me all night
but will I still be beautiful
*in the morning?

Expensive leather shoes oevr painted toenails.
Long legs, muscular, toned.
Rounded apple shaped *** below an (almost) flat belly,
a gleaming jewel in the center.
None could call large, but appropriate *******
under the face - which takes the cake!
Thick eyeliner,
plumped lips,
painted face,
hidden imperfections.
Is this the image of society?
or is this me?

Death grins
A wide, cracked, malevolent grin
as I laugh in his face.
He knows I am not
laughing in his face.
I feel his cold, steely hand gripping my spine.
It turns to ice.
My heart stops.
Time stands still.
Noone, but me and death.
frozen in fear
and lost in his dead, sunken eyes.

I walk with my head down
trying not to be seen
But I can feel them staring
their eyes boring into the back of my head
as I continue down the empty street
alone