Love?Maybe it's just infatuation;Just our - or MY imagination.We're trapped in our ownDelusions,False hopes, andIllusions.Stop,Before you become myAddiction.
Life.You barely even know the beginning.Certain about the end.What matters is what's in between.
We Are RunnersOnce the bulletFrom the gunBreaks the speed of soundWe'll all start to run.Some will runTowards the exitAway from breathing,Afraid to face defeat.Some will runWithout directionRunning blindLike a headless chicken.Some will runBack the way they were,Too comfortableTo go somewhere.Some will runTo the top of the hill,Screaming obscenitiesClaiming, they have win.Some will runWithout hasteTaking it slowThinking it's not a race.Some will runAhead and fastTowards success and futureWithout looking at his past.A few will runWho'll run and stumbleBut they don't give upThey rise from their fall.A few will runTo tackle The ManThe ManWho fired the gun.We are runners.We are born to run.Life, the track.Death, the finish line.
Like the FirefliesI lay thereFor days, neverTo wake up.My soulDrifted away from me.My body gave backTo the earthThat once fed it.It would never end -The wars,The battles,The hunger, -Only lives do.I'm thankful youHonored me.You buried meWith love,That our parentsDidn't liveLong enoughTo fully provide.Brother, I’m gladYou're with me now.Let our soulsLight up the skyLike the firefliesWe captured that night, andI buriedNext morning.Cause if our bodiesStopped living,It's the memory of usThat strivesTo thrive andLive on.
iWriter-MurdererLet the charactersin my mind die, their storiesburied in my head.
A Frustrated Poet's Poemi'm afraidto writea poemi worryBrowning, Shakespeare, Poe, willjudge me.i worry, youwilljudge me.i worry, youwilldislike it.i worryaboutgrammar.i worryaboutrhymesi worrya lotsometimesi worryaboutrhythm and flowi worry, youwill not reachthis parti'm sorryi wastedfifteen secondsof your lifei'm afraid thatpoems willexposewhat's insidemy heart andmind.