I wake up every morning,Nauseous and knowingOf a badgering that goes rogue in my head.While the path up ahead,Twists and twinesEvery logic I have in my tread. I falter my wayWith the image of a day,That can’t seem to forget the night,For the night was
Ordinary man,Go back to your ordinary life!Did you eat today?Did you sleep as muchAs you did yesterday?Did you say those words,You said so many times,You forgot what it means now?Did you breathe enough,So much that you took life for granted?Did you play a game to
What do you hideBehind those golden eyes?It kills me insideTo not have that knowledge.So many secrets hiddenIn plain sight,Whilst here I thoughtI was a man with the key,But I stay locked outside.Unable to see The real you,As you paint a picture of trustThat I mustLearn
Here I lie, on the ground,Wallowing in, without a sound,A river of your mirth,I dive in for a rebirth,And come out a changed man,With a yearning in my throat,To call my insides out,But can’t,For you wantA time out in the quiet,Where my company is not
Picking you up,Peeling you down,Pulling your insides out,Peeking through every holeTo see everything insideThat jumps around,Where is the love?They often talk about,That lifts you upAnd smacks you down,And giggles a peal of laughter out,And makes you smileWhen you are trying to not,And you are thinking
Painted poetic,Brushed artistic,Close up of your eyes,Golden brownAnd searchingAnswers to my quests,At my behests,They dare to look into mine.Arrests my gaze,What a mazeOf loony talks!That happen when We are inches from each other,And I can’t stop myselfFrom venturing forward –My daring towardSoft edges of your
Mornings laced with the taste of you,A memory stoned in time,Arms biting your body inWith a promise to hold you tight.Marveling at every tiny featureThat composes your ethereal form,Consuming you with my razor eyes,So you never get forgotten,Unlike a past that feels all hazy now,I
What’s wrong if I spill myself out? I die tomorrow, don’t you know? Maybe you have all the time in the world, Maybe I am running out, And you have no idea how, But each passing breath is a goodbye From this cold world. And
You aren’t so close to me That I start whispering secrets In your ears, These secrets are afraid of distance, And if you were near I would be talking to your eyes More than to your ears, I might slip them down your lips, And
Not hard to make a poet cry, He is already about emotions. Tears race inside his soul To find the outlet of expression. He can already see With his keen eyes, The pointlessness of the thing you hold dear, How when you tighten up your