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…
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
Haven’t you heard! There is srength by numbers My family has been torn for years… What reasons, I wondered. Now we are like strangers.
Add new poem for what, this world is fucked for every word the pencil should b… to paper not through a blogging lifeless ha…
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,
The last cigarette, glowing to the end smoke rises, killing to fill your hunger
This Christmas, Is love, happiness and forgiveness forget the wealth it’s good spirits
Sailing at night or sailing in mor… all sailors take warning. We live in a tide of lows. With sewage that backflows through…
what do you see, what do you see when you look at me? atoms and particles bending light? and what about the night? Do you see me as I see you?
Been a lot on my mind So I put some down in lines Watching the sunlight reap last ni… I guess the alcohol patches nothin… I pulled the thread beside my bed…
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
It’s the dollar bill that kills cheap thoughts been bought from the man that said you cant
I could just sit here for hours, Thinking of the things to write an… But the only truth that matters Is that you were in my heart and m… So it’s my love I hope you find
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
These words so permanent, Each letter I feel. With words so permanent, How do I distinguish what’s real?