The moonlight deprived
those couples of an Asian slum
as if herded together in a plastic drum
who lived in a roofless brick- less shove
much like a Mal- functioning, Primes-stove.
It also deprived those, whose
tin- sheet- roof bore gaping cracks
as the results of heavy monsoon downpours
as the result of
unruly monkey- like clouds’
aqua- missile- attacks.
These youngsters were robbed by the silvery -  mask –clad
bullies of the moonlight
who shackled them in their homes and held them tight.
It robbed them of the throbbing- pillows of arms
of caressing balms, of cuddles, of charms, of lullaby- songs.

As a giggling newlywed bride pointing index- finger at sky, said
" I am scared of the full moon,
as I proceeded the other day  to hug my man
he stared from above , like a mischievous goon. "
It denied privacy to the folks
who sobbed in embrace together in pain.
Their elder son was, in a religious frenzy stabbed
and the middle was crushed under a streaming train.

It denied the anonymity to the bald tooth-less woman
who was caught sipping coke from the fridge
and who, by her grandson was whisked
from the kitchen Store- room
--- which she shared in her late husband- built- house,
with a jumbo mouse--
and asked to sleep on the fan- less Veranda.
Where she lay reminiscing the crate- fulls she stuffed,
-- as she smiled and coughed--
into her fridge,
in her youth
of Cokes and Miranda !

After Their Divorce

In his garage he takes a break, and sits
Among all the mechanical debris
Of an inventor born a century late:
Unsorted hopes, tools, dreams, and engine parts

The project car that he and his son will never
Rebuild together on Sunday afternoons
An old guitar, an ashtray full of ends
A midden of beer cans crushed in memories

He should be loading his truck and trailer, but
In his garage, in bitterness, he waits

A voice like crushed ice.
grating and cool.

Sly eyes scan for
Scrumptious souls to steal

Cheeky smiles and chivalrous ways
A silver tongue to complete his play

1000 miles, and I'm still on his radar.

Mine heart is broken
Crushed upon the shore.
For me there comes no reprieve
Or hope lasting evermore
I dare to dream
Yet cant envision life with this regret
Redeem myself I've yet to do
Have not I found but look for you
Haunting thoughts have yet to wither
In this dingy day
Mine eyes cant see what I imagine
Yet there your scolding image lay

I recall the rustic leaves,
and the sound they made when crushed
under skateboard wheels,
as they settled around the half-pipe
and the worn rails of Peter Pan Park.

Youngsters,
with their colorful helmets and their
better-safe-than-sorry knee pads,
kicked and pushed their way across the pavement
and pumped their fists in the air
as their boards reached the other side.  
In this Neverland, the kids wanted adventure first -
the tea could wait at home for a little longer.

But, as dusk settles,
the pirates emerge upon the asphalt shores
in fleets of tinted windows and loud exhausts.
These pirates, still adolescent in their own age,
bicker and fight until a hook pierces skin,
blood spills upon the crisp leaves,
and a boy - with naiveness still glistening in his eyes -
becomes another boy who would not grow up
in the Never Never of Peter Pan Park.

From the soft place of my bed, thoughts of escaping grow in my head.
I gaze out at the bright blue sky, and watch pillow like clouds float on by,
and all types of birds, fly down low and soar up high.

I close my eyes and drift into the scene, of an idyllic life of pure simplicity,
a place with no worries, a tranquil haven for me.
They said my head was in the clouds, i didn't take offence,
i embraced the concept, just to annoy the ladies and gents.

I could easily picture it then, my place of harmony and Zen,
fill it with all of my favorite things, and my own little bird that sings.
A truly perfect dwelling, with my pride swelling, this would be paradise,
but what will become of me when lady lightening strikes,
maybe this place isn't that good of a choice.
She is like no other woman, even worse than those who've been scorned,
her bright white pitchforks would burn me right out of my home.

I close my eyes tighter, now imaging i'm one of birds instead,
oh this is much better, the freedom to fly right out of my head.
I'd be the daring one who circles, swoops, glides and swerves.
oh yes it's definitely for me to be one of the coolest birds.
Yes this is the life for me, i certainly do think,
nothing to worry about, not even a drink.

But what would become of me when i hit a plane,
nothing much i fear, other than a tragic shame.
Again a bad choice, and a bad ending too,
seems no choice would be right, because it's missing you.

I hit the ground with a thump, my eyes open wide,
and it all rushes back to me, that you're not by my side.
With a sharp pain in my heart, and tears on my face,
i search all around but there isn't a trace,
of any of the things i hoped you leave behind,
of the life we shared together, of the love so blind.

With rose tinted glasses i saw our relationship,
where i thought we were riding high, it was all beginning to dip.
What seemed to me like quiet chilled times,
was just the cold silence, after my crimes.

I did again, it was all my stupid fault,
you tried to help me, to brings things to a halt.
But to tame one as wild as me, i was the tiger, so brave, so free,
it was an impossible task, to restrain the spirit in me.

But it was all a lie, i wasn't brave, i was shy,
i lived in fear, i wanted to die.
Spirit in me? oh what a joke, i was bruised and battered, this woman was broke.
The ego so inflated, of how i portrayed myself, got bigger everyday, due to top shelf.

Then the day came along, when there was no song,
of how the good times rolled, nothing much left, only a wore out soul.
This was the day, you packed your things and left,
you said you did it for me, i said you did it for less.

Oh all the cruel words i spat, flew like knives towards the door,
i wanted to hurt you, to feel a pain so sore, you weren't gonna take it, not now, no more.
Well ******* then, was my final retort, ******* to your *****, she's more your sort.
Then i saw the crushed look deep in your eyes, i knew i had done it, i made our love die.

I had destroyed all the beauty, our amazing friendship,
that i thought would last so long endure the whole trip.
And here i am again on my own, in this place i call home,
it's so hollow, so empty, this feeling alone.
Again i close my eyes, so that i can fly high,
but escape doesn't come, only the tears that i cry.

When the dead dies and leaves
your side, the pain shall fade
away in mere time.  The raw
tears that you cry will sink inside
your veins until you shine in sight.  
Those were the words that my
mom told me as a child.  But as I
stand here by your grave breathing
in the dead taste, the awful sounds
of scorched hearts lingering in the
distance, painstaking drums rumbling
gray smoky songs, I can feel the hairs
on my flesh lifting in lonesome depths.
I never thought I’d see the day I’d bury
my mom into the ground and watch life
drift away into untimely mazes.  
I’m trying to be strong and solid
like you raised me, the days
you lectured to me about the role
of a man, how to be bold and brave,
a genuine creation full of power
and insight.  You were an astonishing
gem, a glittering ocean of iridescent
poetry, an inner rhyme harmonizing
inside my mind, a strong working
woman willing to make a house
a home.  You sacrificed everything
to see my dreams come true,
the day when I graduated from
college and made you proud, the hard
work and determination you instilled
inside me so that I’d grow into a
magnificent man.  Now as I stare
at your existence beyond the grave,
the yellowish trees stuck in sorrow,
revealing the deeply crushed diction
beneath earthly dwellings, I know
I must be brave and continue
moving forward in this world
of spinning waves.

Deciding her future is hard to do
Living in a small town
With no other alternatives
Has the craziest far fetched life
With no way to be ordinary
Just wants one thing to be normal
With No faults
But that can't happen
With no good decisions left
All her friends are leaving
With good plans
So she is left
With no friends
No Matter how much she cries
No matter how much she screams
She knows she can't make a good decision
Because you cant make a good decision
With no good ones left
With the bad ones lingering behind her
Leaving no mercy
With the pain slowing her down
With No Empathy
She tries to call out
but the problem is she can't be heard
If people Don't Listen
But She's Growing Up
So she has to make a decision
Even if None Are Right
Even If she's still growing up
She Has To
Even If her father wont listen
For his own selfish reasons
Even if her Mother pretends to agree, and wont stand up
She is feeling trapped too
Even with a brother
Who would die to stay
So this girl with no where to turn
Has to make a decision
Anyway these next decisions will cause her pain
But she has to take one for her family
Because not her decision
It never has been
But shes growing up
She needs to make her own decisions
But she can't
And no matter how much she hates it
When she wakes up in the morning
She realizes she is in the hell hole thats crushed her
Crushed her dreams
Crushed her spirit
Crushed her freedom
its like a prison
And there is no decision to make her escape it

1 ;Officer Brian Sicknick – Capitol Police officer, injured during the riot; died the next day. He was crushed. ( this is on video)

2 Officer Howard Liebengood – Capitol Police officer; died days later, connected to stress from the riot. He descended into madness and couldn't cope.

3 ' Kevin Greeson – Got so worked up chanting "**** Mike Pence " and building  gallows that he suffered a heart attack during the riot and none of the other goons stopped to help.. ( clear video of him chanting)

4 ; Rosanne Boyland – bedazzled mom , crushed in a crowd surge.

5 ;Benjamin Philips – got stuck in a mob  and overheated died of a stroke  participating in the riot.

6 ; Ashli Babbitt – shot by Capitol Police after threatening them while attempting to climb through a barricaded door.

Now ask yourself , if you had so much blood on your tiny little hands would they let you walk for inciting a deadly insurrection. ?

THESE PEOPLE DIED !   and their  blood IS  on Donald J Trumps spoiled, never worked , New York  Country Club,   ****,  Epstein Island V.I.P.,  1583 missing children in cages,   Veteran and cancer kid  scamming,   incapable  hands.

No matter what some whitewashed report says, those people died because of January 6,       full stop.               They didn’t die at home on the couch,                                      they didn’t die in their beds. They died because a sitting president whipped them into a violent mob and told them to      “fight like hell.”     They died because he  lit the match       posted the tweets    demanded the loyal act   created the frenzy , and then

tried to blame the fire on the woodpile !

Down among assemblage of the common
I gaze up to the peak of the Mountain of Glory
It pierced into the heaven and embraced its purity
Many who lacked the determination have failed to touch it
Will I be able to achieve the crown?
These doubts charred the courage of my soul
But then a voice within the depth called out
‘We may rise and fall, but then we get an opportunity.
An opportunity to get up and continue our journey.’
With these thoughts orbiting around my mind
I initiated my journey from the bottom
The mountains resisted me for I was a stranger to them
It started raining and I was wet yet I continued.
Then there was the blizzard and I was cold
I was frozen like a soulless entity yet I continued.
Frustrated for having failed to eradicate me
The mountains unleashed shower of boulders
Alas! My left leg got crushed under the weight of a merciless boulder
I was crying alone on the mountain terrain
Nobody replied back to my cries except for my echoes
My blood-bathed leg turned cold and lifeless
I took off my shirt and tied it around my leg to stop the bleeding
I then, continued supporting my entire body upon my right leg
Limping and leaving behind ruby droplets I climbed
Upon climbing the last elevation! Oh! I reached the peak!
Gentle zephyrs of the heaven welcomed and cheered me!
The Sun glowed brightly to acknowledge my glory!
My name was written among the names of the immortals!
While the birds sang ‘Ye have conquered the Mountain of Glory!’

A moment passes and something beautiful dies,
there were watercolor constellations,
dappled, darkling gems of light,
behind us, glinting in jasper, and violet skies,
but now only darkness,
the constellations in silent splendor,
bleeding fire from my eyes,
the constellations of
diamonds have fallen,
and once where my heart found laughter,
only tears remain,
and once in silence I trusted-
such deep hopes!
Higher than all before them,
a daredevil on the wire!
Now a ball of fire,
forward motion, now sinking in those hopes,
slowly tangled by the noose of their ropes,
you would think after a year or so,
one could let go, let go!
And how?
I don't know-
how to express that
yesterday is a slave to tomorrow,
for we have taken what was not ours to borrow,
the wicked borrow and do not repay,
that has become our culture, this our way,
"even in laughter the heart may sorrow"
so how does this story end?
It ends with a whimper,
and mangled hopes,
a harpist's hand severed in the machine,
a dreamer crushed within a dream.
The sad singer with his tongue severed,
can never speak out,
can only scream,
a dreamer crushed within a dream.
-dm (c) 2015

I believe this is long overdue. But I will never show this to you. I will not tell you of its existence, because while it is a letter addressed for you, it is actually a letter for me. So...
Dear you,
If you began to read this letter, I'm sure that you'd know exactly what it would be about. It's been many months since we fell apart. Things were really good, at first. I really liked you for a long time, but I had the notion in my head that nothing would ever happen. I never thought someone like you would have feelings for me. So, when you told me you did, I was so happy I could barely contain my excitement.
This is where things first went wrong.
The first night I stayed at your place and woke up in your arms, I felt like I was on cloud nine. I had already fallen hard for you. So, we when started off seeing each other, I was already invested. I wanted things to go well. But I got so wrapped up in my excitement and emotions that I went stumbling forward, full speed. I had never been in a relationship and I didn't know what I was doing. So I poured my heart out quick and fast.
This is not what you wanted.
I could see that something was wrong. I could sense that something was off by the way you acted. Then came the night that you gave me my Christmas present: a simple necklace, but incredibly beautiful.
I had no idea that when I gave you a thank you kiss, that it would be the last one we would share.
It was late. We watched a movie. You were closed off, I could tell by the way you laid there. Your body wasn't the same. But we kept watching... and then when it was over, you said you wanted to talk to me. You said that something had been on your mind, and that you had been thinking about it for a while. You said that you thought we had moved too quickly emotionally, that you needed to go home, clear your head, and that we would talk about it when we got back from break.
You asked me what I thought. I had no words. Truly, because I had been wrapped up in my bliss, and suddenly I was thrown down back to Earth. Hard. In that moment, I didn't really know if we were moving too fast. But now I realize. Months later, I realize a lot more than I did in that moment in your bedroom of your apartment.
I am a very different person now than I was on that December night.
I said I appreciated that you were honest with me. You said I probably shouldn't stay the night anymore. I said you were probably right.
It was three o'clock in the ******* morning and you let me walk back to my place alone. But before I left you hugged me and said "Thank you for everything." I remember it vividly. It scared me because it **** well sounded like an ending.
Sure enough, it was.
I got back to my room. My roommate was gone. I was alone. And so I cried. I cried myself to sleep that night because I was scared. I thought things were finally going to work out, but then everything I was so excited for seemed like it was slipping through my fingers and I could do nothing about it. This was the case, but it took a lot of time and denial before I realized.
We were distant until the semester ended. I gave you a quick goodbye in the library and left for break. You went home, far, to your family. Over that time, I was always the one to initiate conversation. Maybe twice, you reached out to me. The talks were brief, never by voice, only by text. But you were oh so consistently on my mind. It was all I could think about. It was all I could hope that we'd come back from break and you'd want to pick up where we left off. But this was just a fantasy.
We got back. I was so nervous to see you. Things were cold. They were awkward. I drove my friends crazy, because all I could talk about was this. This thing that was eating me alive. They were mad, I was frustrated too, but for other reasons.
I finally decided I needed to talk to you. I needed to figure out what the hell this was between us. And finally, I thought we might... but this was before I found out you were seeing her. Another girl. I think that was the moment I really started to fall apart.
Someone, either that night or the night prior, asked if we were still seeing each other.
You avoided the question. I stood there awkwardly.
I drank too much. I became sick, crying over the toilet of a ****** bathroom. This was one of the many nights that I cried over you.
It was all downhill from there. I was an emotional wreck, my heart broken and torn and crushed. And while that sounds dramatic, it was truly a heartbreak unlike anything I had ever experienced. I was so hopeful. I was so excited. And then everything came crumbling down.
They say actions speak louder than words, and your actions roared so loudly I couldn't hear myself think.
It was months of emotional instability. Too much drinking. Too many nights spent crying over you. Too many times where I questioned why things had to end up like this. Too many times where my best friends told me I needed to do my best to move on, and too many times where they had to hold me as I had another breakdown.
I don't know if I have the words to properly describe how absolutely awful I felt. For months this lasted, and I could not shake it. I know this does not sound healthy, and believe me, I completely recognize this. So this is why I am writing this letter. Because I am trying to get better, and this is my first step.
My friend said I need to completely cut you out, until I feel nothing. But this is hard for me. I am an emotional, nostalgic person. So it is really hard to steer my thoughts in a different direction when I find them wandering to memories of us. There is no denying that you have become an integral part of my life, despite the hardships. You have many of the same friends and we run in the same circles. You are so intertwined with my life that I cannot untangle myself. There is no denying that you are part of my life and that will not change. So how do I really move forward? How do I begin to heal?
I write this as an attempt to heal. This is a way to collect my thoughts, to collect myself. I can't cut you out completely. Part of me wants to unfollow you on all social media and make you vanish, in a sense. Especially tempting as you flirt with my best friend, making comments. But I want to be strong. I do not want to cave. I want to more forward, to find some normalcy that I so desperately need.
You hurt me. This is obvious. But I will not lie and say I am guilt free. You didn't give me the decency to talk about things. But in a way of trying to cope, I said terrible things about you to the people around me. I made nasty comments because in the moment, I wondered if by seeming tough to others, I would feel better about myself. But it made me feel worse because I didn't mean it. Because even as much as you hurt me, I still saw the good in you.
I think that's why I still felt this way for all this time. Because I knew there was good in you. I saw it in the way you cared for your family, for your love of singing, when you would pick me up food and not expect anything in return, the way you treated my family with so much respect when you came to visit my house. There was good in you, so I continually looked past the bad.
But this will not work between us. I'm slowly starting to realize that some things don't work out, no matter how much you want them to. And so it is time to begin the journey of moving on.
Things will never be the same, and I recognize this. I just hope that we can move forward in some way or another. We owe each other that, at least.

Everyone was laughing
tell me about the days
when each duckling would be blue when the rivers were calm and still
butterflies fluttered delicately in the faint evening light
grass swayed in the warm summer breeze
flowers bloomed,trees blossomed
laughter and joy filled the wonderful place

Until the wars began

since then the sky was grey
the place was miserable,no one was happy.
Flowers crumbled to ashes
homeless begged for food and money.
Children wept
the place was silent
A large black wooden door creaked open
terror,madness,crime,sadness.
All the thoughts and feelings that would pollute the world even more
but this time with words and ponders
an angry storm rolled the earth
causing hurricanes,earthquakes,erupting volcanoes,tsunamis
affecting people's own lives
children got crushed, parents lost their children
the earth gets thrown and tumbled into space

who's laughing now?
screams replaced laughter long ago
a raindrop falls from the brown shriveled leaf
it breaks it's drop on the grey cobbled stone floor.

Not in a desert I saw the poet
But he was caught alone,
Struck and crushed against a wall
*******, then cut in pieces,
Then gathered in a corner again.
I asked him the matter
He said “it’s an idea my friend,
Just an idea’’.
“Shall I worry?’’ I asked,
“No my friend no! Don’t worry,
Beware!”

Trump sure knows how to
share the sacrifices,
spread that butter a little thin
on his own toast,
as say ...
when he weekends
at Mar-a-Lago,

that opulent palace-like estate
with its Flemish tapestries,
lavish oriental rugs,
& a Louis XIV-style ballroom,
with $7 million in gold leaf
on the walls,

one-more-time ...
$7 million in gold-leaf
on the walls,

& it is here that he relaxes
every weekend
this Sun-King of ours,
this Oriental Potentate,
this Pasha in crushed velvet,

the cost of these jolly
jaunts is $4 million
each weekend,
oh … & there’s $4
million a month for
Melania & Barron too,

poor young Barron,
who one does
feel for
in a way.

So … at the risk
of sounding like
an early 20th century
Bolshevik & drawing
attention to inequalities
& injustices & wealth
& rank luxury at the
very time when hungry
& lonesome old folks
are to be deprived
of basic nourishment,

I'll say:
"The revolution is not
an apple that falls
when it is ripe.
You have to make
it fall."

Do you ever get that feeling
Like you're being left behind?
Like your friend is out there
Making friends with everyone he can find?
Well I made him who he is
Maybe not literally
But he's met them because of me
I caused my own agony
My own friend
My crush
Crushed my soul, once was so lush
He used to talk to me every day
Now, it's not even close to this way
We're drifting apart and he doesn't mind
He has new friends
I'm left behind
And he's friends with everyone he can find.

The cool breeze,
flows into the room in waves.
I'm dazed,
lost in the silence that once calmed me.

I'm swimming,
in a sea of words,
some of which are unheard,
I find peace between the lines.

Your actions,
they resonate like the piercing sound of nails on a chalkboard in my scattered mind.
You leave me paralyzed,
crushed.

I feel numb,
as I stare into nothingness,
praying for one last kiss,
or even just a passing glance.

But for now,
I drown.

The rain has passed yet we are all still huddled beneath our dark umbrellas
Shielding ourselves for fear that when we look back
Things will not be as we left them
And if this is life let me face death as if it were a silver bullet,
So that I might watch it reflect the young rays of light
Onto my face,
And send me blind into the hands of tomorrow
Have you forgotten that your god speaks to you through your own sullied lips,
From his throne nestled deep in the folds of circumstance,
Built of love and undreamt dreams,
Or perhaps of flesh and blood
If one is not the other,
And that he is often called a soul?
Your children stand alone atop frozen cliffs,
They do not feel the ground crumbling beneath their feet,
And where there should be iron cages protecting their fragile hearts
There is but bone,
So easily broken
Crushed by shoulders holding up the world by its bootstraps,
Or what is left of them,
Little more than what is left after flame has reduced to ash
All but the smallest of creatures to start anew
And we beg them to start anew
We beg them to wash away the bodies,
The open mouths that once spoke,
And were considered wise.
I am tired of running around in the confines of my existance
Your words are spoken,
Speak them not again,
And give all that you have left to those who still believe in magic

Where were you,

When the world was calling you,
When Love & honesty was only with few.

When Poverty & Hunger was at its high,
When exploitation & injustice was very easy buy.

When Poverty rips through their veins,
When child in ragged clothes, with tired eye, begs for few beans.

When their bellies ****** is not by choice,
When destitute mother cries as her hungry child dies.

When women were exploited, with no one to tame,
When humanity was cringing with shame.

When even little girls were not spared by lust eyes,
When she was left with bruised body, with her dreams crushed & with groaning voice.

When baneful herbs of hatred were spreading viciously,
When aroma of love & tolerance was crushed blatantly.

When moral outlines were quashed,
When values were scotched.

At least now,
Stop Just crying foul & grumbling,
Stop feeling sorry & bleating.

Time has come to move on,
Get off the couch & plan for a new dawn.

Lead the change with your head  high,
March ahead, your limit is sky.

I'm trying, I really am
But this undiagnosed disease
It has weighed down
For far too long
Crushed
Gasping for breath
Suffocating
I can't hold your hand
Around my throat
For much longer
**** me or kiss me
Because I can't keep living
On this borrowed time
This facade of being fine
Is crumbling at its core
I'll string myself up
Just to stay on two feet
Like a paper hearted Pinocchio
Lying for the first time
Like it was the last time
A tainted ****** too proud
To eat his own words
A familiar taste, regurgitate
**** this palate accustomed
To that pretty face.

A poem written using combinations from my words page

Trees painful bow
To harsh winds breathless drum
Lightening hides the earth
And the clouds fell sharp
Black dun over old sun
Sparking arch parts wood
Fire flames grass gave
And the earth heaves high waves

Dark skies lose stars
Cracks cave and mountain roars
Eruption bright and high soars
The earth fumes, forgotten forge
In coal black depths
The sun dies

Hale ice, screams and falls
Cold creeps on dark halls
Electric pulse in dry bones
And blood smoke air chokes

Run Drink Die

The quiet voice falls dead
As the soft life burns
In the beautiful stopped light
Of the eye of the storm

Run Drink Die

Stand strong beneath the waves
As your soul crossing body strays
And crushed flesh finds graves

Run and Drink and Die.

In the eye of the storm




Criticism is highly appreciated, give me your thoughts

Remember that night you called me crying?
At one in the morning 'cuz things had turned violent?
I picked up even though it was late
And it was a school night
I needed my sleep
But I stayed on the phone and calmed you down
Crushed all the rumors circulation around
Never could you extend the same courtesy

Get everything off my chest in a text and press "send"
Expecting some advice or an "it'll be okay"
Instead I get back one letter
Not even a sentence to comfort
Let me turn around and do the same thing
You'd have no hesitation in calling me selfish
Cold hearted, accusing me of being jealous
As if you could handle a walk in my shoes
As if you know half of what I've been through

Remember when I said that I had feelings too?
That I wasn't just a human form of a diary for you to use?
Like I have all these thoughts and emotions bottled up inside that you haven't once considered or asked if I was fine
Scenarios circle in my head
Late at night I replay all the things we said
Entire conversations, beginning to end
Perhaps I think too much
But that doesn't change
The fact you never want to listen to me

If you're gonna play it like it's every man for himself
I have no problem never asking you for help
I have no problem hitting reject
On the phone when you call
I could be reading instead
And by reading I mean a book, not one of your long texts
140 characters describing how bad your life is
As if you don't have a roof over your head
Parents who love you, a nice warm bed
I'm not saying you don't have problems, everyone does
I'd never put mine out there
I know how you judge
You'd tell me I'm insecure
Or to just grow up
Never once considering what I'm going through is actually tough

Does that jeweled crown from your head need to fall?
To convince you I'm imperfect yet worthy?
I don't care if you're the queen of your world
You can't judge my path unless you've walked my journey

I'm not your personal therapist
Never was
Never will be
Your emotions?
Have them
Your diary?
Here's the key

I thought I had told you many times.  But here for the record:
Because you are feminine yet strong.
Because you are extremely capable and can do things I know not how to do.
Because you are productive and extremely hardworking.
Because I can see how much you fight for the things you hold dear.
Because you can give others a lot of love and care (sometimes that was me!).
Because you have a gift for interior decorating.
Because you create a sense of home which for me appeals at a very sub-conscious and visceral level.
Because you're good with cars.
Because you love cats almost as much as I do.
Because you love a lot of the other things that I love; movies, wine, beer, fish and chips, sandalwood and more...
Because you opened my eyes (and ears) to new kinds of music.
Because you had the same PIN number.
Because you slept so soundly you couldn't be disturbed by my snoring.
Because you liked my thighs and didn't think my mouth was too small or "mean".
Because you made me two beautiful cushions, that are in colour schemes that show real artistic ability, and which I shall cherish till the end of my days.
Because you look vulnerable with your hair up in a chignon.
Because you are the first woman who ever helped me make marmalade or cookies.
Because you look cute in pigtails.
Because you pout your lips upwards when someone is taking your photo.
Because you study really hard to improve yourself, and achieve great marks through sheer will and determination.
Because I see qualities in you that you probably don't see in yourself.
There are probably many more, but it's 3.30 am.

Oh yes, one more:

Because I find you beautiful to look at.