many writes poetry now, many writes about life and they wi… were not alive but when they hears… they run and leave their shoes beh… many writes about love,

Deception is a great feeling for Those who it pleases to lie; But truth is sacred and the Continual of all lies.

I cry blood I cry a very dark red blood I cry I cry to read along the lines I Cry a meaningless tear sometime…

Look at me, lying on the sofa With the thought of money and fame And my waist-bones cringes Of the moves and roads and efforts… Sarcasm, or more like it’ i’d say…

Heaven will be glad and passionate… for hell could not bare in comfort Of some delicate souls prayer woul… So will earth cruse blissfully una… that flesh will rot with clothes,…

If you ever thought of a girl perhaps wasted anytime with someon… Or no one. If you ever walk with loud manly Conversation with your friend

You don’t have to be in distress t… Just like you don’t have to breath… You don’t have to be tall to leap You certainly don’t have to be sho… You don’t have to be loud to sing

If your head Could think it Your hand Could surely Write it.

I call you Art Beautiful, interesting Expressive, talented And yet so delicate.

These are the real Poets/writers The ones with glasses and

I feel like I have seen them all And buzzing around in black and wh… White socked into bleach of evils… They wish to break us all but With divine intervention we surpas…

Nothing is worth writing About until something Is worth reading a…