Every thing grows in the shade of your smile,
but especially my love for you

Like a nail i am rusted,
But alas, unto you i am trusted.
I am not the best mold,
But everyone says your work is gold.

Everyone has been hurt.
Everyone feels hurt.
We either suffer, check out or
make meaning,
As pain is inevitable.

one,
and there has to be one

he begins

not the one that wins
we don't allow winning anymore
we only take part in a group,
there's no second, third or
even a last
we all come in first
we're all number one.

but one does not get a gold
because the gold's all been sold
along with the silver.

We participate for a certificate
which we hang on a wall
and what does that mean?

it means ****** all.

I still want one.

Bipolar leads to poetry
As you can clearly tell

The mystic flight, the atrocious remorse
A lifelong of unwell

I sent her my odd letter
Even though she doesn't care

America is in the Abyss
Highwater Everywhere

When I seek asylum from distress
And Love gently takes me 'neath its wing,
I'm numb to the pain of loneliness,
My heart becomes immune to its sting,

Fleeting are the memories of sad tears
Cried in moonlit hours of solitude
While a host of feathered balladeers
Offer their orchestral interlude

I vaguely recall the sleepless nights
That were spent soothing my anguished heart,
Forcing my spirit to soar to heights
Where angels their mercy might impart

No longer is my fate predicted
In the sad song of the mourning dove;
I'm drugged .... and hopelessly addicted
To the divine ****** that is Love!