I paint my daily pain
With my heart and cane.
for someone having no tomorrow.
A hopeless man
Striving to **** his inside pain
But in vain.
Wars, hunger and lack of rain
Men and women turned insane.
For whom the bell tolls
For you and I
Because of your lie.
Are you talking about
If our world is full of absurdity?
Which mask shall I wear
If your face doesn't care?
I need to know
Why don't I show
Who I am
If my birth came out of a drop of
I am neither your future nor their
I am myself. ****!
That never cares about your
I stand on my mind and
Not my ***.
My identity is a mental entity
Fake power or celebrity.
I am myself.
I cannot wish the pain away
When you had to go and couldn’t stay
My heart could not bear to be alone
Now quiet inside my empty home
Walking down an empty hallway
Leading to empty rooms
I had inhaled all your essence
I was overwhelmed; consumed
A pilgrimage towards disaster
To eradicate my woes
With a bandaid for my heartache
As you made your choice; you chose
I feen to stream in the essence
Of your magical masculine musk
Swathed in your astonishing artful aura
My ardent hypnotic heart-throb
You enthrall the softness
Of my fresh earthy body
Lock me in your exotic, spicy hotness
Your highly scented
And tempting dimension
Brimming with manly enchanting romance
Envelop me in your palatable
And wholesome dopeness
Make me drown in
Your high-powered top-flight fineness
Make me immensely frenzied
With your sinfully thrilling sensuality
The way your captivatingness
Emblazons my gayness
You make me greatly blazed
My hormones racing rampant
Crazy hot sensations amplified
So enamored by your fervent
I'm Eeyore. A dark cloud's
hanging over me, raining wine and
poetry. I won't leave the house. The sun
doesn't rouse me. I can't even leave
my bedroom. I'm so drowsy. Every day
is the same, lousy. Pulling the blankets
over my head, sinking in as a hibernating
bear. I'd like this year to disappear. It's a task
to brush my teeth, wash my face,
and join the human race. Men tell me to snap
out of it. Look at the bright side of things!
Count your blessings! But I'm a slug. And this
world is a treadmill looping around
and moving the ground under my feet. Colorful
collage of mixed messages scrambled together
that I can't encode. Slipping through my hands
like a muddy toad.