The sky is cleft across
A ragged aniversay of two
Who for three years were in tune
Down the long paths of their vows

Now it, their love, lies, a loss
And Love roars with his patients on a chain,
Feom every real or crater
Carrying cloud, Death mires their house.

Too much spent in wrong rain
Coming together who love parted:
The windows melt into their heart
And the doors melt into their brain.

neon skies and walk- bys how hard to remember thise faces. forgotten people, and they leave ni traces. How unfair we dont have the ability to carry ourselves and all of them. how cruel we can fall too far buf onlt fly so high. And if we try to hard we are plucked right out the sky. How sad to see someone fight so hard for their wings to simply die. But it wont stop you from trying. You'll still keep others feom dying. You'll wipe their teara when your friends are crying. Youll shine brighter than the sun so when they see the dark they know where to run. How kind you are to be the one, who knows when a smile-chain has begun. If i could be greater and better and grand, Id help you out. Someday- Ill give you a hand.

To those who look in the mirror
And see a beautiful person
And those that look in the mirror
But see nothing.

It matters not what cold gray world
We all may live on
Or a world of vibrant green and gold
It is our world.

Soak what gray you most in blood.
Whether it be black blood of hate
                       Blue blood of envy
             Green blood of greed
         Purple blood of lust
Or the crimson of life.

Take this world in your hands
And cradle whats here.
There is someone who understands.
Someone with your taste.

Take the leg broken amd trode upon
And pick yourself up.
Prove that the strongest people
See nothing in the mirror.

Show that the empty mirror
Only shows whats important to you.
Those that see a beautiful person...
Show them that hate
                        Hate is the best motivator

The best for success.

The best for a great life.

For hate is a driving force
Behind the bullet that is you.
Fired feom the mouth of that
Beauty seeking mirror looker.

Take beauty from your surroundings
As well as within yourself.
Only then will you finally see
Something in your mirror.

And what you'll see wont be beauty
But success.

Seen or unseen,
It matters not to the strong.
Because the mirror isn't real.
You made it because they did.

Destroy ot like you did their words.
Use that broken leg to stand tall.
Taller than anyone.

But always remember where you come from.
Stay humble no matter where life leads.

For if you don't
Your reflection will change.
And so will your leg.

Minutes of silence eclipse your desire
To argue the necessity
Of stealing her away from her home
But the resentment burns brighter
Each day you can't have her
But it's not like you haven't known
She won't run to you with alacrity
This girl you call your fire.

You brood in silent darkness
With the words she may never say
Holding me closer the more you want her
I can't come close to holding her place
You say with regret writ clear on your face
And then you hide your thoughts in meter
Saving me feom that which you won't say,
The truth is that you want to end this.

Her or you, something has to change.
You're not the only one wasting away.

It's alright I'll take the blame.
I'll take the humiliation by showing my face at the very same places you talked about me.
      Time after time that I allowed you to take me for granted.
    As you would find a new toy I was pushed to the back seat. But at the snap of your finger how I hurried kneeled at your feet. Ready to be at your every beck and call until you filled up your character and I'm thrown to the back seat again.
       You may have personality and your looks arnt to bad neither you also have a gift for gab. People like you guys and girls the same
Some leave some stay . To me you were trouble , my free ticket to jail.
You were my ride to the unemployment line you were also my high. I'm to scared to leap and to afraid to jump. Into your world. I'm torn feom the thought whether to
love  You or leave you.
  Idk what to do.

for all the good:
mushy-mushy feelings
i had when
giving that beggar-woman
20 squid
to go and shelter herself
feom storm Bert
disappeared today
as i saw her again
outside the shop...
and she asked me again
for money without that
formerly inclined mystique
of addressing me
as a kind, young, man...
two volunteers were also
there collecting for charity:
or "charity": some bogus
Humpty-Dumpty cause for
bureaucratic leeches...
and the beggar-woman:
i didn't care by then...
i reprimanded her...
"reprimanded": no...
i scolded her...
she asked me again as if
a ghost without a shadow...
another yet another passerby
or personna-non-grata:
in her orbit of imploring
me for money again "we" were
both kindred spirits...
but first time i was made to feel
like a ******* donkey...
second time: first time i gave
the woman fish...
second time i could see
no need for skills in fishing:
none were available to begin
with: no netsno rods...
so what? more free fish
more Israelite laments about
the land of milk and honey:
manna from heaven?
it's Saturday night...
classic.fm rather than BBC
radio 3: only because it's movie
night with Jonathan Woss...
lisp dyslexic no trill of the R...
so i scolded her:
don't ask me again!
last week i gave you 20 squid!
i fell for your charm
the first time round...
there are 7 million other people
in this urban vicinity...
what if they each gave you
a penny each?!
you took advantage of
my weakness: not my goodness...
well... well... it wasn't in so
many words...
poignant: point being:
do good... as long as it feels good...
there is no point pretending
you're doing good:
if and absolutely if:
it doesn't feel good...
which is "paradoxical":
since when people perform evil
they feel good... or do they?
maybe they don't feel anything...
but at least do good because
it feels good... it's never about
being: good...
being is beyond good and evil:
doing isn't...
some Latin: to better probe
punctuation:
esse ist ultra bonum et malum:
after all what is grey
is also what is what is:
when white trickling into black
makes of it:
not colour but a diluted night
that emerges as a fog...
there is no beyond this
bilingual (elevated)
schizophrenia (de-elevated)...
what am i? a walking fudgery
of pretend good will:
i did no good giving her 20quid
the first time around...
i was plagued with doubts...
with questions...
then came the resolving answer
the second time she asked
and with no Disney-theology
allure of me fearing this
might be a haggard woman
to later turn into an Enchantress
that i might be turned into
a beast that no one could love...
well... someone does love me...
ergo? c'est la vie!
there are people in place
and organisstions who are there
given how asylums once were
and no longer are...