darkness, cold water
stone tied around my ankle
the abyss awaits

Poems are like sprouts of green
pushing through tarmac.

it’s breaking my heart
listening to the silence
of unfulfilled love

in you I saw light
a bright beacon from heaven
guiding me from hell

Once a year I time travel
10,000 miles back
to my childhood place.

Here I am still a little boy
enjoying his mother’s food.

It’s a museum of frozen memories.
Nothing changes except the
reflections in the mirrors.

I ignore the worries about
age and illness and relish
the time with those I love.

Hey, that doesn’t rhyme,
what a ******* waste of time.

Do I really have to read this?
I don’t care about your mental fizz.

And btw, no one writes those anymore
only lonely people who hide indoor.

Honestly, what does this actually mean?
I prefer to watch a social media stream.

So, you better stop being a fool
and we might end to ridicule.

You are like
  Grieg's "Morning Mood"
played in darkness.

You are like
  a sunrise marveled upon
a mountain peak.

You are like
  a warm fireplace
after a long winter walk.

You are all that's good.

I strip away that skin,
the flesh and bones
until nothing is left,
but a single sad sob
in an empty world.