"contrive" poems
Some People Are ... EVIL ... !!!
Some People Are ... Nice ...
Some People Believe ...
In The Lies They Contrive ...
Black People ... White People ...
Yes ALL TYPES of People ... !!!
Don't Think You're EXEMPT Most People Tell Lies ... !!!
Some People Want TRUTH These People Are Wise ...
These Are The People Who Use Their ... 3rd Eye ...
I'm Sick of These People Whose Lives Are Contrived ...
Like Poets Who Act Like Their Words Breed Insight ...
MAN These Are The People Who Lead A ... FAKE Life ... !!!
Because They Can't Deal With ... What's REALLY INSIDE ...
INSIDE of Their Minds ... INSIDE of Their Hearts ...
See These Are The People Who Fall At The Start ... !!!!!!!!
They STAND By Their PRIDE ...
But Pride We All Know Comes Before A FALL ... !!!
How Many of You Folks Are Playing That Role ... !???!
Let's Go Toe To Toe And See What You Know ...
Because I GUARANTEE ... You'll Be A NO SHOW ... !!!
See They ... Like To Deride ...
Their Comments Are Snide ... !!!
MAN These Are The People I CANNOT ABIDE ... !!!!!!!!
They TALK A Good Game But Have NO **** SHAME ... !!!!!
Because These Are The People Who DON'T Deal With Pain ...
They Pass YOU The Rope ...
And Then Say ... " TAKE THE STRAIN " ... !!!
See These Are The People Who Need Their Blood DRAINED ... !!!
They ARE The Bloodsuckers Who STEAL From The Sane ... !!!
They TALK About TRUTH But Soon HIT The Roof ... !!!
When Truth Is Thrown At Them They're QUICK To ABUSE ... !!!
"I'll issue court action, I want a Retraction !" ...
Well Here Is My View ...
These People Are FOOLS ....
Who've Got Some Screws LOOSE !!!!!
Deal With YOUR ISSUES I've Been In Courtrooms ...
Don't EVER ASSUME I'm An IGNORANT **** ... !!!!!!
This ISN'T ... Pulp Fiction ... !!!
Don't Think I'm ... The Shepherd ...
I'm NOT Samuel Jackson I'm Ready For Action ... !!!
You Will Be Collapsing When I Start Reacting ... !!!
Don't EVER Presume I'm Into ... Play Acting ... !!!
I'll Leave That To You And Your Idiot Crew ... !!!
Cos' These Are The People Who Don't Give You Clues ...
Cos These Are The People Who Simply Aren't TRUE ... !!!
They Like Their Doors OPEN ...
So They Can Walk Through ...
MAN These Are The People ...
Who Walk In ... DEAD SHOES ... !!!
Now I'm NOT Making Threats ... !!!
But On THIS ... You Can Bet ... !!!
Messing With Me ...
Means You're Messing With DEATH ... !!!
Cos' I'm Ready And Willing To Take Your LAST Breath ...
Cos' People Like You Are ... Humanity's DREGS ... !!!!!
But Enough About THEM ... Society's Phlegm ... !!!!!!!!!!!!
Some People ARE NICE These People I Like ... !!!
Cos' Some of These People Do Use The Mic RIGHT ... !!!!!
They Talk About Things That Affect Peoples' Lives ...
Without EVER Thinking Their Wordplay ... DELIGHTS ...
These People Are Humble And SHUN Foolish Pride ... !!!
Cos' These Are The People ... Who Look DEEP INSIDE ...
INSIDE of THEMSELVES And Find Love of The SELF ...
Cos' Love of The Self Can Preserve Mental Health ...
And Help You To Deal With ... DUD Cards You Get Dealt ... !!!!!
These Words Are ........ HEARTFELT ........ !!!
Good People DO HELP ...
WITHOUT EVER Thinking of Helping THEMSELVES ... !!!
Good People Are VITAL For Human Survival ... !!!!
This Is Now The Reason I Do These Recitals ...
I'm Trying To Put .....
Something GOOD In The CYCLE ... !!!
The ... Cycle of Life .....
That Has MANY Good People ... !!!
But TOO MANY People Are Now Doing EVIL ... !!!!!!
Which Is Why I'm Relating My Views About ...........
......... " People " .........
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
this door exists,
stately and staunchly it stands,
disheartening and terrifying it remains.
the door is unlocked, yet cannot be opened,
for in it, a path in time...
one decision that can affect everything
[such as my choice to wear the necklace you adore,
which lead to you noticing me for the very first time,
or my idea to play you the song that you fell in love with,
which i can no longer listen to]
...for in this door, one path
is intimidatingly located.
every bone in my body,
every last muscle, tendon, ligament
each artery, each vein, each capillary
every single nerve,
even each microscopic cell,
implores me not to open this tempting door...
[it is almost as if my hand refuses to grasp the handle,
to unleash the unknown upon me,
the colossal chain of events that would ensue]
the immensity of the unfamiliar,
the unexplored,
tends to perturb me.
change is unnerving
and is almost as chilling
as an abandoned graveyard at midnight.
but i bring my mind back to the door,
yes! this preposterous door that i have contrived for myself.
why is the **** so easily turned?
why does it not put up somewhat of a fight,
at least jolt me suddenly,
as to frighten my curious heart?
it is a constant battle between my body
my mind
and my heart
as to which doors to open
and which ones to leave ever so steadfastly closed.
but never once has there been such a struggle
for them to reach an understanding.
somehow my heart,
[even though a fraction of me,
a fist, dripping in blood]
is prevailing for the moment.
my heart reaches for the handle,
attempts to unclose the door...
yet, with the best of its ability,
withstanding my strong-willed
and obstinate heart,
my powerful body and commanding mind
overcome this hostile takeover,
and the door remains shut.
it is my body,
my skillful mouth,
my soft, rose lips,
my elegant tongue,
and my vocal chords...
all of these pieces must
contrive the words,
conceive the change,
which will unveil the path that will forever alter us...
slowly, opening the door.
being as in love with you as i am,
i will not let you slip away from my arms right now.
but when we are not together
[*i wish you’d have been there,
i needed you there*]
i stare at this humbling door.
if i wait too long, i’ll forever lose you;
for it is you who will make this choice for me,
opening your own door, fearless and dauntless.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
1, for the slumber that tumbles us round,
2, for the remedy, the musics bold sound.
3, for the tree that became your canoe
& 4 for the rain, it's ambiguous blue.
5, to escape, to a world we contrive,
6 for the tricks that I played to survive.
7, because heaven, is supposedly on earth,
& 8 for my mother, and her unknown worth.
9 for the failures, the faults & mistakes,
10 for the fears that keep us awake.
11, for my father, consoles me each night, whispers advice crystal clear, filled with insight- words on courage & kindness, love & delight.
12- when you wake but it's already night.
13 forever, with strength glory and might,
14 with wisdom, discretion, insight-
both numbers together sizing up every fight.
15, for my little sister, and all her turmoil,
15, for her spirit, the last one to spoil,
she and the world but water and oil,
15 for her soul, and like the mighty cobra it's coil,
deadly & graceful defends its home soil.
16 for the evil- the wicked & cruel, the endless hate they spin into fuel.
17, for reason, justice & art,
and all the other virtues life etched on my heart,
18, to redeem, to admit your mistake, to truly move on then perhaps to retake.
19 for that shame, always the same, so familiar it almost comforts my brain. 19, for the suffering, agony & betrayal.
19 true stories retold as mere tales- how they surpass logic and induce other's fails.
20. For my years. For the moment, for now. For to the past I salute, and to the future I bow; All with the hope that next year I'll know how
to do what everyone else can.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:32 PM UTC
sad boy;
what a pathetic
ploy
this is for my attention.
all you contrive
tastelessly
always lacks concession.
every word,
and image you fake
I reject, from my
possession,
for all you are
's worth less than this
effortless expression.
you see, my natural
creativity
surmounts your ****
impression
of the beauty of my work
and my powerful
transgression.
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 7:02 AM UTC
I never say we are orphans;
But they say we’re.
But who are they?
They are the orphans.
They chased us away from their fold,
Yea, it’s for good that we’ve been raised by HIM.
Their fold hath been stained by outrageous laws,
And are shrouded with selfish attires,
And they have swallowed our innocence and spit it out.
But why they did so?
It was they’d turned ‘gainst us,
And their treacherous acts named them traitors.
It is they lurk around us still to **** us,
They contrive against us still to covet our belongings;
And they lay their greedy tongues stretched at our treasures.
But HE is our Protector, laying us in HIS Arms,
And we are safe in HIS Arms.
No, we aren’t orphans,
For God in Christ Jesus is our Father,
And we are HIS children.
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 10:59 AM UTC
The door to your heart is a horrifying puzzle
Your Jigsaw pattern I can't put together
The pieces I hold don't correspond
So I take parts from you
Which is making me Leatherface
And giving you a flatter taste
And the ****** chain I saw placed
Was pressed to your door with haste
You're a killer doll like Chucky
How could I have been so unlucky?
I can't even cut through your curtains
I become a cold corpse before the movie can start
Like a careless Jamie Lee Curtis
How long can such a curted courtship last?
Before I contrive the courage to crush
The Killer Croc in your rib cage
But the corrosive corrections officer
That is your puzzle piece door
Impedes all progress to your horror heart
Because the improper placement of pieces
Will make me think you're The Witch
When you tell me Don't Breathe
As my theater's lights dim
I scramble for an exit
But my only escape from the cinema is through your door
I grow cynically situated to the pitch black pictures
How could I expect to solve the riddle
Now that I need to?
Doors that can't be opened are walls
Speaking softly turns to brawls
As your pieces scattered like change
Your door completely wrapped in chains
I feel stupid and ashamed
Your puzzled movie's to blame
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 4:16 AM UTC
The eyes should be on the target only after opting the goal
"Be Like Cheetah"
-ARAVIND BHARGAVA
"Cheetah getting famished sets the ambition to chase a Deer,
Doesn't stop until the purpose is clear,
Doesn't gets confused by seeing an animal in the middle,
Achieves the goal and makes the deer to *******
You are the Cheetah and deer is the goal,
Other goals are animals in a whole,
Concentrate only on the purpose you have chosen,
Make the goal for you to be frozen.
Frame the aspiration by yourselves you had,
Detach negative from mind which is bad,
Attention only on the ambition you designated,
Do not lose confidence even if you are underestimated,
Add courage, trust, and determination to your mind,
Do not cease until everything is fined.
Be like a cheetah, contrive goals
And be successful in life"
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
I don't ask you to be faithful - you're beautiful, after all -
but just that I be spared the pain of knowing.
I make no stringent demands that you should really be chaste,
but only that you try to cover up.
If a girl can claim to be pure, it's the same as being pure:
it's only admitted vice that makes for scandal.
What madness, to confess by day what's wrapped in night,
and what you've done in secret, openly tell!
The ****** about to bed some Roman off the street
still locks her door first, keeping out the crowd:
will you yourself then make your sins notorious,
accusing and prosecuting your own crime?
Be wise, and learn at least to imitate chaste girls,
and let me believe you're good, though you are not.
Do what you do, but simply deny you ever did:
there's nothing wrong with public modesty.
There is a proper place for looseness: fill it up
with all voluptuousness, and banish shame;
but when you're done there, then put off all playfulness
and leave your indiscretions in your bed.
There, don't be ashamed to lay your gown aside
and press your thigh against a pressing thigh;
there take and give deep kisses with your crimson lips;
let love contrive a thousand ways of passion;
there let delighted words and moans come ceaselessly,
and make the mattress quiver with playful motion.
But put on with your clothes a face that's all discretion,
and let Shame disavow your shocking deeds.
Trick everyone, trick me: leave me in ignorance;
let me enjoy the life of a happy fool.
Why must I see so often notes received - and sent?
Why must I see two imprints on your bed,
or your hair disarrayed much more than sleep could do?
Why must I notice love bites on your neck?
You all but flaunt your indiscretions in my face.
Think of me, if not of your reputation.
I lose my mind, I die, when you confess you've sinned;
I break out in cold sweat from hand to foot;
I love you then, and hate you - in vain, since I must love you;
I wish then I were dead - and you were too!
I won't investigate or check whatever you try
to hide: I will be thankful to be deceived.
But even if I catch you in the very act
and look on your disgrace with my own eyes,
deny that I have seen what I have clearly seen,
and my eyes will agree with what you claim.
You'll win an easy prize from a man who wants to lose,
only remember to say, 'I didn't do it.'
Since you can gain your victory with one short phrase,
win on account of your judge, if not your case.
3.4k
*Ignorance is bliss they say
There are many who might agree
But I have a secret to share today
That once was shared with me
If you should ever chance to gaze into the eyes of the young and bold
You might discern a glowing light that neither flickers nor grows cold
What sustains this constant spark-
Night or day, light or dark?
Whence flows the river of joy and peace
That gushes forth through gentle souls?
What is the secret of peaceful sleep
Enjoyed by minds of simpler mould?
Tempting though it may be to attribute to lacking wit
The exuberance and ecstasy discarded with the training bit,
Wisdom urges a second glance
beyond the proverbial looking glass
In the hope one might contrive
to visit with the other side
A world of simple charms and grace,
far from this one’s treacherous maze
And so this deeper, delving look
Might relight that failing spark
While in the pages of a thousand books
One may languish in the dark!*
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
Juvenile Government. Black-skinned Politics.
Lavish desires for power, establish conflicts,
Contrive one's graveyard for authorities,
And inculcate defalcation at the zenith.
Deciphering the truth from ocean of lies,
Sovereignty of benevolent people has drowned;
Flooded miseries. Benighted reality.
Withered accountability. Absurd transparency.
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
Poetry is the air poets are the breath
poets sparkle like jewels of paradise
flourishes in garden of great poetry
poets matured like pearls in oysters
of vast ocean of their sub conscious
no need to ****** it from jaws of
crocodiles or to combat dragons
don't have to climb Everest
cross the burning Sahara
crawl in the dark belly
of the Pyramids
all they've to do is let the ink flow
let inspired words pass through prism
minds let contrive and conceive aglow.
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 9:07 PM UTC
Subtle, clever brain, wiser than I am,
by what devious means do you contrive
to remian idle? Teach me, O master.
3k
I was enriched, not casting after marvels,
But as one walking in a usual place,
Without desert but common eyes and ears,
No recourse but to hear, power but to see,
Got to love you of grace.
Subtle musicians, that could body wind,
Or contrive strings to anguish, in conceit
Random and artless strung a branch with bells,
Fixed in one silver whim, which at a touch
Shook and were sweet.
And you, you lovely and unpurchased note,
One run distraught, and vexing hot and cold
To give to the heart’s poor confusion tongue,
By chance caught you, and henceforth all unlearned
Repeats you gold.
2.9k
Weepy is my heart as it mourns hard this day
Muddled is my head with thoughts all amuck
Muffled is my voice with the words I try to say
Stifled are my screams as they try but all seem stuck.
Tense are my shoulders with the load that I bear
Wet are my eyes seeing everything so blurry
Heavy is my chest as it sighs and draws its air
Tired is this body with so much it attempts to carry.
Weak is my strength, fending off oh so feebly
Uncertain are my hopes to see the light at the end
Outstretched are my arms reaching and grabbing constantly
Tested is my resolve, how much further can it bend.
Lonely is my soul yearning greatly for it's other pair
Drunken are my senses, almost losing all control
Desperate is my being wanting love that's not here but there
Clouded is my future, totally obscured is my goal.
Two-sided are the fallen words I have listed before
Strained is my mind as I try to view the good
Mirrored are these feelings, they bear so much more
Enlightened is my will, I shan't mope and brood.
Relieved is my heart when I think of the other that beats
Serene is my head when I separate fear from fear
Loud is my voice as it clears for the love it greets
Redundant are my screams for I don't need them here.
Relaxed are my shoulders, still fueled to continue
Wide are my eyes for the sight they can't always see
Lifted is my chest for the love it wants to pursue
Upright is this body, to get to where it wants to be.
Rejuvenated is my strength when I accept that I am strong
Restored are my hopes, I'd still keep them alive
Faithful are my arms, still reaching for what they long
Strengthened is my resolve with plans it'll contrive.
Contented is my soul for the mate it has found
Heightened are my senses, embraced by feelings so keen
Centred is my being, keep my bearings on the ground
Bright is my future, in my dreams they have been.
Empty are the words for I won't let them linger
Focused is my mind; on my prize no matter how far
Embraced are these feelings for they only make me stronger
Steeled is my will; to be one with my love, angel and star...
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 5:27 AM UTC
It was considered expedient
To change the unit of measure
To change scale,
To make redundant all
That could be wasted,
Naturally.
Internal communications
Will contrive suitable verbs
To conceal the brutality of profit
To provide surety as required
To the senior management team
As for the rest:
To those whose insecurities
Are relied upon, whose
Middles have expanded, aged
Receded, human resources
Will issue notice of packages
And opportunities of relocation.
The restructure will require
The recruitment of some
Of the hungry young;
Fresh graduates on the newly
Introduced basic scales.
What of your work you enquire?
Those value added strategies
Of differentiation
Of corporate responsibilities,
Family friendly policies?
In this age of austerity
Such approaches, old man,
Are as relevant as a hard drive,
Or hard copy, this is a cloud
Sourced post-crunch
Twitterverse we inhabit,
This is a time for new prospects
This is cloud cuckoo land.
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 3:06 AM UTC
Joe wants to know
how'm I doing?
an innocuous query,
little can he know,
bye bye is my merry,
marooned on a skerry,
noxious fumes in the aerie,
currently inhabiting my foreheady,
worry waves, rolling thunderous tides,
have myself beside
thus the answer to your toll,
something bad, on me, got a hold
Joe,
life is,
more than a tad
concerting
concerting?
surely you meant
converging, or perhaps,
concatenating, or concaving?
discombobulating, or more likely,
plain ole disconcerting?
indeed, all of the above,
fit like a glove,
but best combinated in steaming mug of
concerting
"to contrive or arrange by agreement: to plan; devise"
the world is secret contriving,
the world is secret devising,
a plan for my demising,
forces are concerting re me...
most concerning,
as trends converging,
concave hollow chains clinking,
a concatenating chorus
voicing their displeasure,
at my happy existence,
which now gone,
its loss, wept for, in great measure
life dissing me, in a manner
concerting and dis-concerting,
my composure,
decomposing,
the ides of depression,
hip hop discombob-
(undu)lating throb
but then again,
what's in a word,
what's in a rhyme,
jes that old timey R&B;,
rhyming and blues,
of a verbal kind
so, Joe, how'm I doing?
now that you are knowing,
as men of distinguished letters,
students of history,
part time poets,
Your Reply
must only be:
"Oh no, Natty,
say it ain't so"
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 5:03 AM UTC
Where was I, when you were alive?
Was I sleeping, dreaming, kicking, screaming,
Staring in wonder at the bright stars a-gleaming?
Where was I when you were crying?
Was I thinking of life after dying,
Seeing as it was, or blind and sighing,
Where was I when you were crying?
When you were born, what was I doing?
Was I speaking, walking, peeking, stalking,
Dancing, singing, laughing, mingling,
Looking, lying, toking, trying?
Where was I when you were on the beach,
Staring out towards the sea?
Perhaps I was taking a ***
Or sipping my hot cup of tea?
Where was I when you were sleeping?
Perhaps I was in mid-air, leaping,
Or watching as MTV was bleeping swearwords.
Where was I when you fell ill?
Was I parked up on a hill,
Waiting for life to arrive
With a plan it did contrive?
When you were driving,
Or tidying,
Perhaps on a snowboard somewhere, sliding,
Was I alone at home and hiding?
Or on the bike somewhere, and riding?
Maybe I was wide-awake,
Or laughing with my friends, while baked,
Or greasing a pan to bake a cake,
Contemplating what makes a lake.
Or perhaps I was asleep and dreaming,
and lost in my subconscious readings,
With avatars of all my friends,
Buying a Mercedes Benz.
Where was I when you were wasted?
Was I laughing at old hatreds,
Staring at a crawling aphid,
Or in the shower, and stark naked?
Where were you while I was thinking?
Perhaps you were awake and blinking,
All the sleep out of your eyes,
After dreaming of cute Albanian guys?
Where is everyone this second?
I mean, this specific second,
As I write or read this poem,
Perform it for a crowd so wholesome,
Where am I as you read this?
Up on a stage and fighting fears false lisp,
To make sure all of these words are crisp,
Or eating bread with ham and swiss?
Are you dead, or are you living?
A minion to society's bidding,
Or policing streets and finally ridding
Pavement of the hobos twitching out of crystal ****
Perhaps you're firing a gun,
Or you've found the only 'one,'
To love through thick and thin, till death;
Or thinking, "Wow, poor old MacBeth."
In this moment, is it all;
So listen to the moments call,
And cancel all your texting plans,
And use those thumbs to grasp the hand,
Of a loved one next to you;
"The day before" was never true,
So there's no better time for you,
To look for some more love to brew.
So get up, and go do.
Go do it.
Apr 27, 2011
Apr 27, 2011 at 12:10 PM UTC
Incontinence of Pseudo-emotion has engulfed us from the 3rd grade.
It festered dormant for a little under a decade before it’s vessel popped.
A pore filled with ***** media which dehumanizes and objectives human beings
While making a spectacle and esteem of being promiscuous.
All that Dirt
Lathered in an oil of misdirection. A misunderstanding of affection, empathy and apathy.
Those who contrive the most emotion are perceived as actually possessing the most emotion.
Nothing can be farther from the truth.
This is the death of morality. A birth of Nihilism.
The miasma of the rotting corpse of ethos and emotional connection.
Is one that sits in the stomach and contracts illness not curable due to our understanding.
We have been taught that promiscuity will bring us happiness, and yet it is the most depressing.
Without understanding of that we are incurable from this ugly affliction.
Momentary bursts of relief chafe the most sensitive areas of our skin. Without treatment.
We will be encased in our handmade carapace which will indefinitely block us from emotion.
Luckily someone invented lotion, soft tissues, and silicone.
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 11:29 PM UTC
I need an outlet for these emotions to spill
Their bubbling at the surface, I've had my fill
It’s hard keeping this raw energy contained
It hurts, lately I've been living life pained.
Try to talk them out
Don’t have the courage to tell what about
Anger, regret, happiness, sad just to name a few
Out of my head they spew
Paper is the gateway from my thoughts to reality
But if anyone should read, would they question my morality?
Or reject my personality?
Load my pen up with my feelings
The words I write are healing's
A chance to relieve some pressure
Filled up too much to measure
To release is such a pleasure
To find peace, I search for that treasure
But if I leave my mind alone
Mind and reason will be overthrown
By the fists of thought, hammering at the walls with a desperate tone
Seeds of self-destruction I have sewn
All chances to stop it, I have blown
This is the only way I can survive
This solution was the only thing I could contrive
Maybe through written words I could thrive
If not, my soul would dive
Down deep into the bowels of darkness
Salvation would truly be hopeless
But for now, the abyss will just tease
Until I have no more use for writing, my heart will never be at ease
Oh this liberating ink
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC
I'll weave into your sleeping form and lace into your dreams; when you wake I'll be the light behind your eyes and the softness in your smile.
With sharp words and gentle intentions I will shape and guide this story. I am cunning and honest.
I'll get inside your head, but more importantly, your heart. There I will spin my tale and make you begin to wonder and learn.
I design and I scheme, I am crafty and clever. I create and I intertwine, I am fabricated and beguiling.
I am the sin and savior of imagination, I am the inspiration and the hollow ring. I am the advocator of make-believe and visions of passion.
I am the lessons of joy and strife, I am the morals, I am the parable of simplicity, I am the myths and legends that have withstood time.
I am the fallacies and disappointments, the misconceptions and outdated lore.
I am; I create. I entwine, knit, construct, contrive. I invent these allegories, bringing things into being.
(So who am I?
...I am love, for "love is a cunning weaver of fantasy and fables.")
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 1:28 AM UTC
her strive for attention
deprives her actual intention
and she thrives off tension
but she feels alive with this pretension
and what I've failed to mention
its her contrive for perfection…of love
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 2:52 PM UTC
I contrive to redefine the lines,
Equivalent to defying midnight skies.
Freedom is my bride,
Despite ignorance of a guide.
Why are my mental insides open wide?
What does my future hold?
Specify which road or ride,
And if so why?
You don't know why,
Because you aren't my guide,
And it's all up to me.
I'll pick the right time to arrive,
Alright.
(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
(Originally written 10/9/10
Revised 9/29/14)
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC