We all think we are special
And rightfully so
Because we are
but we all forget we are human
Those who only see we are human
Forget they are special
And rightfully so
Because we are

Somehow on the scale

We got to find the balance

A primary flaw of Democracy is the error of assuming popular opinion is in accordance with objectivity.

That's not to disrespect Democracy,
but to illustrate that People are fickle.
Think for yourself, but consider others.

some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and ****** and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

If there is anything I hate more than,
Hypocrisy, idiocy,
Is being constricted and prevented,
from telling you how I feel about you.

When I see your face,
The only thing I want is to kiss you,
I want you to run your fingers through my hair,
I want you to stop and smile.

I wish for nothing more in this world,
and I would die for this to happen,
Because I would rather die whilst kissing you,
than living a life that doesn't consist of your lips touching mine.

THE LAST TIME I TRIED TO WRITE ABOUT YOU I HAD AN ON AND OFF HEADACHE FOR A MONTH AND THAT WAS OVER A MONTH AGO TELL ME WHY I'M WRITING ABOUT YOU AGAIN AS IF I DIDN'T LEARN MY LESSON AS IF MY HANDS AREN'T STILL NUMB FROM THE DAY YOU LEFT. I'VE STARTED DRINKING COFFEE IN THE MORNINGS I KEEP THINKING IF I FILL MYSELF UP WITH THINGS YOU HATE MAYBE I'LL BEGIN TO HATE YOU TOO BUT INSTEAD I HAVE THIS ACHING FEELING IN MY CHEST I SWEAR THERE'S A BLACK HOLE ******* UP ALL THE HAPPINESS THAT'S LEFT AND I NEVER HAD MUCH TO BEGIN WITH BUT NOW THAT IT'S GONE I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH ALL THIS SADNESS. MY LUNGS ARE FILLED WITH SMOKE I THINK I'M DROWNING I CAN NOT BREATHE AND I DON'T NECESSARILY WANT TO BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVE WITHOUT YOU. I DON'T WANT TO SAY MY HEART SHATTERED THE DAY YOU LEFT BUT YOU MUST HAVE THROWN ALL THE TINY LITTLE PIECES INTO THE DEEPEST PARTS OF THE OCEAN JUST SO THAT I COULDN'T FIND THEM. SO THAT I WOULD BE MISERABLE WITHOUT YOU. I'M JUST TRYING TO FIND MY WAY BACK HOME ALTHOUGH I'M NOT SURE I HAVE ONE ANYMORE, BECAUSE I GOT SO USED TO LIVING INSIDE OF YOU AND YOU LEFT. THE ONLY HOME I EVER KNEW ABANDONED ME AND I DON'T THINK I HAVE THE STRENGTH TO BUILD MYSELF A NEW ONE.