Good night my love
Alone I lay
The heart grows heaver
With the end of day
A wandering mind
In a maze of rhymes
Gathering poetry
From vanished times
Lovers eyes
Slit the night
A poetic mind
Possesses sight
To see the wrong
In an artistic light
Where the beauty
Of pain sadly ignites
And there a spark
In the dread of dreams
A mirror reflection
Of what could have been
While alone I lay
In my dark room
Rocking and a rolling
And a howling
At the moon
...........................

I'm tired of fighting
feelings so fleeting
this loneliness in my wary heart

I'm tired of writings
of the feelings I fight
so light a fire under me
and burn my feelings clean.

I wouldn’t dare to guess
The whole extent of
The adolescent mess
  Left upon the first broken heart..

Certainly you are one of those
Who have overcome
Those common blows
    That tears a first timer's world apart...

Or even luckier yet
Perhaps your soulmate
This time around
Is who you met
   Reflected in the passion of your art....

Being a poet
Can be quite telling
Aesthetically rebelling
Sharing all the secrets
   Of one's unique solitary heart.....