Each day is my writing pad,I carve letters through my routine,Some days sound the sameBut every page remains different.Some days don’t speak at all,While some days sing a song,Some end up getting torn,When I trundle on their edgesTo test at what point do I fallOut
Today I sleepA slumber so deep,I might not wake up tomorrow,While the world I keepWouldn’t care to peepInto the foreboding of my sorrow. Might I lie,If fine am I,It is the knell that peals yonder,That brings nighA will to dieTo end my ceaseless wander. Some
There is a villain in my house, He has murdered conscience And hid its body in the attic. He steals right under my nose, Honest money and truthful notes, And saves malice for those Who try to race him to the finish line. He eats
Every morningSun breaks into my window,Lighting up all the dark cornersOf my room,Showing me hope,Smiling,Wearing the brightest light,And I caress it gentlyTo relish its taste,Looking right at it,Disarming it with impaling eyes,Seeing through it,Like I know how to read books,Let alone read people.I catch a
Cold buildings,Towering tall,No privacy By the window.Large boards,Blank spaces,Empty hearts,Corporate machinesCharging robots every night.Hear! Hear!Prepare!For another day of tedium.No one knowsWhere they are going,Though they know Where they are coming from.Bleak lobbies,Painted walls,Missing art,Misplaced hearts.Spruced rooms,Grimy insides,Long tables,Scarce foodCoach you to Eat in solitude,Teach you
I am only a moment awayFrom disappearing into my life,Never to return again,Despite who dares to cry.My wilderness of sorrowCalls me every night,And wishes to keep me companyInside its cold heart.I breathe on gloomAs if it were my fuel,And I can’t be happy all the
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
Serving you a pieceOf my heartIn a silver platter,Scrummy,And yummy,Filled with promisesOf luscious kissesAnd sweet nothings.You devour itWith your long fingers,And your tongueClicks and clacksIn consent,Which I takeFor love,But wait!Do I hear something?Oh, that’s just a burp,I am so glad you are full,Now your turnTo
You wouldn’t know, Would you? You don’t ever read me, Do you? And then talk about How you understand me The way no one does, But she would read me Like what’s going on, And then she would know What’s going in My heart and
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