What a shame that colours had to fed to
grey
The picture blurred and the journey
came to an end
when the killer came around, dreams
were murdered
Breath was taken away together with
hope
Ice cold was the blood freezed in his
veins
There was no way to keep the Artists
soul within his body
What a shame that the sunset colours
waned to shades of grey
The moment doors were closed and
light hid in the darkest night
The whole ordeal was sad,
It was a tragedy to witness the work of
a legend with a dying breath, giving up
life
Trying to sail around the world, he
drowned
Trying to fly with broken wings, he
touched the ground
Dust to dust, the spirit moved on,
But his work remained behind and was
purely glorified
Ashes to ashes, his name lived on
In the papers, the magazines and
pictures on the Tv's
A life lived in stardom, a soul burried in
legacy

The whole of me is a broken principal of
life
The life in me is a restless soul,
The tears from my eyes are water-like
clear,
Yet the colour of the tears from my
heart is red
The lies in the mirror hide away the
truth,
Causes my pain to play hide and seek,
My face shines like rays of light of a
golden red sun,
Chasing away the cold and bitter nights
When I stare in the mirror I see a
reflection of my image,
My own picture plays tricks on my
thoughts,
It tells more about my outward garland,
Yet my own presence is poisoning me,
Killing softly, the fraction of my true-
self
The lies in the mirror hide away the
reality,
All the drama that brought about scars
to my heart,
I look beautiful in a size seven,
But take a walk in my shoes,
And realise I'm size sixes and sevens,
Living in a minus heaven
The whole of me is a broken kingdom,
A suncity with dark empty streets,
A black night, yet a piece of my
shattered heart,
I smile, dance, sing, pose and feel like
everything,
Yet I'm nothing but lies in the mirror

THE moments passed as at a play;
I had the wisdom love brings forth;
I had my share of mother-wit,
And yet for all that I could say,
And though I had her praise for it,
A cloud blown from the cut-throat North
Suddenly hid Love's moon away.
Believing every word I said,
I praised her body and her mind
Till pride had made her eyes grow bright,
And pleasure made her cheeks grow red,
And vanity her footfall light,
Yet we, for all that praise, could find
Nothing but darkness overhead.
We sat as silent as a stone,
We knew, though she'd not said a word,
That even the best of love must die,
And had been savagely undone
Were it not that Love upon the cry
Of a most ridiculous little bird
Tore from the clouds his marvellous moon.
ALTHOUGH crowds gathered once if she but showed her face,
And even old men's eyes grew dim, this hand alone,
Like some last courtier at a gypsy camping-place
Babbling of fallen majesty, records what's gone.
These lineaments, a heart that laughter has made sweet,
These, these remain, but I record what-s gone.  A crowd
Will gather, and not know it walks the very street
Whereon a thing once walked that seemed a burning cloud

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

I sit, elbows on knees.
Frowning. Thinking.
Sometimes I just stare at the wall,
Not even blinking.
I think weird and random thoughts mainly.
Like, Who decided to drink cows milk?
Who on earth would eat those silicone packs you get inside shoe boxes?
Who decided to use silk?
I think deep thoughts too,
What am I doing with my life?
Am I happy?
Should I make my girlfriend my wife?
Sometimes I can be here for a few minutes,
Normally, I'm here for a bit more,
Sometimes, my legs go numb,
And my feet get sore,
And that's when I wipe,
Stand and flush,
Wash my hands,
And realise I've now gotta rush.