Just like your handwriting
You’re a mess
You hide yourself
By cunning words
Trying to disguise how you really feel
But that’s okay
I see right through the facade
You are the type of guy
Who sometimes cries alone
In his room
The type of guy
Who teases and messes with girls
Making them feel awful
Because it’s hard to express how you really feel
You are the type of guy
Who never shows his inner thoughts
You don’t believe anyone will understand
The chaos in your mind
But that’s okay
I see right through it
I am the type of girl
Who’s willing to put
My heart out there
However
You are the type of guy
Who never sees
A girl like me.

Mother Earth quakes
Absorbing heavens' tears
Like crystals on her greening robes
Her heart aches
She knows our fears
Within her are endless globes

Twitching will not stop
after you hit the bull's-eye.
Somewhere a nightbird,
had a hallucination, moon was
scared to come out.

The game we play all
the time. Tracing blue nudes
on the beds. A gang ****
went unnoticed by the
diehards.

A sphinx was rising in
east. What you have done
to stall the riddle of winged monster
sailing like hawk moth,
drinking your honey?

a younger rock formation isolated among older rocks,           someone who works out differently to others.             an exercise in the way to  view the world. we are all

individual.



as much as this is said as  aid, the performance can do with quite an improvement.



so you gas some,        bomb the others.

mr and mrs do as you will be done by?



look at what you do now, and think about it.

seriously.



sbm.

"Yes, I understand what makes you feel this way; but, what are you going to do about it?"

the membership weren't aware
of this particular disclosure
but the due time has come
for an open exposure

poet Stephan is poet Jack
in his alternate gown
the probity of the facts
so precisely noted down

a revelation shocking
is herein told
of the twin persona's
acting too bold

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