My glasses are filled And your cups are Starting to overflow With patience and I will help
O, ye the bright sky summon thee Before the crimson light forsake n… With the numb cloud morosely still… So does the teardrop– warmish will… Lightening’ a little or with a pi…
I call you Art Beautiful, interesting Expressive, talented And yet so delicate.
Life could spike your drink Love could stab your heart Feelings could blame your tears Money could pay for less Attraction could buy your sight
Oh sleep and rest thy dazzling eye… Nor snore aloud with breath-stinks… Countenance cover’s it or lay stil… Of thy thoughts out bare; stay sti… Claws or brows; Oh now it’s mire,…
Love growing could be as Short as a leave that kisses The sun begged to kiss not, It could be a lantern bright But not bright enough to see far,
From a writer To a Reader and From a reader To a
One will fail to believe, if not Seen or perceived, what solemnly; Another heart had muster Precariously, for intent or brief A talent titled grief.
When in battle We know men But not fully, We know men that Folds up their sleeve
I have spread the sheet to my bed… Now that there is no more experien… Now there is no more poetry, and n… There is nothing new to write abou… Under the sun or far away from bey…
I have walked with people Who are well pamperd And well spoken enough to be Their own god.
Curiousity is a hell of a drug The reason why you open your eyes… The morning and The reason why you shut it at nigh…
In life we prepare for tomorrow no… Just like a judge, We mend or break hearts And just like a bad dream, We focus on waking up.
I have lost the taste for words I have blended with the world I have settled with the masses I have decided to colour it all. I have lost the taste for words
I trust myself too much That I sometimes forget how To trust my pen.
