I am
Sweet
I am
Neat,
I
Can
Sweep
You
Off
Your
Feet!
Give
Me

A Twirl,
Give
Me
A Birl...
And
I will be
Your dancing girl!

By Violet.

I walk upon this world of mine dreams are what my heart withholds Images of societies ills
is the bitter pill of life foretold
I hold the secret in my hand
the essence of my soul to tell
of dreams to which I bear the truth a scar of hope from skin it fell
And as I lurk amongst the shadows tall to think of life to which I bow
and gather up the dust filled air
entering lungs to which I don’t know how
To finally put all hate to rest
I exhale the poison ghoul within
This inner torment known to man
Which manifests through tightened skin.
Then to darkness falls the curtains aim to which the focus of my dreams unfurl and back to how I came to be
my feet on sodden log do birl.
and from this stance the world rotates treading water is my part.
to keep my head above the lapping waves and the wolves from my heart. ————————————————

A Poem: If I ever stop writing.*

I discovered a treasure
Though, late and hidden in great measure
My life would be without bearing
If I ever stop writing


Though, the writing zeal
Is on the downward road, I know books would heal
This battle I will never stop loosing
If I ever stop writing


The ink of my emotions
Would see no paper to air its notions
My gift would keep sleeping
If I ever stop writing

My pen would never stop inking
As long as I can't stop thinking
My pen to laziness linking
If I ever stop writing

Poetry is the beautiful girl
That set my heart aflutter and made me birl
A succumber I'd be to powers that are fighting
If I ever stop writing

Writing, not just writing nonsense
Writing things that draws sense
No poem is worth reciting
If I ever stop writing.

© Daniels Pen ™ 2020.