I love the sound Every droplet hitting the ground Speeding up just to slow back down Its like your beating heart There’s thunder inside
To be a poet. Is it knowing self-worth? If that is truly something, It wasn’t given at birth. Words are sharp, they cut like kni…
The last cigarette, glowing to the end smoke rises, killing to fill your hunger
Jaw always clenched In pain not power working til I’m drenched Wearing on my body trying to kill the mind
another caffeinated week and I’m stuck wandering in my dreams a… feeling so damn beat yet all I can do is smile whats going out of style
Add new poem for what, this world is fucked for every word the pencil should b… to paper not through a blogging lifeless ha…
We all sit here and take a look. Comparing lives on a fake book, seeing how you’re photoshopped fac… For what, just to pass some time.
Think deep and sink in to thought for with time comes rhyme and my time can’t be bought but they say time is money
Where does one start his journey t… If a picture is worth a thousand, nowadays in public housing, it would only say, “In God We Tr… But it is never enough,
Shadows, A sad man’s reflection all to hide his complexion you can try to run or hide but your shadow is your dark side
I hear all the wind, whispers and… For only the wise listen to the ea… With no intent to reply, Only to understand. Why can’t I be like that wise old…
Insecure the feelings here steer this car Not a clue to where I’ll go
The pencil my blood And paper lined the same Like each and every vein They carry the graphite I used to write through the night
The more things change The more I feel strange The times on my mind Are hard to find real But somehow still remains
why do we feel pain from the tips of our limbs to the stem of our brain do we all hurt the same as the blood seeps from a vein
