.....enough said  |
My Story of a GirlThis is my story of a girl Whose eyes shine like glass. They glisten bright in any light, She makes my heart beat fast.My Story of a Girl
I wrote a little song for her, I think you might’ve heard. I’m falling in love with her And now my thoughts are slurred.
Walking down the beach She’s holding onto my hand. I look into her eyes and That’s when I know I can....
Do anything for my love She is, my whole heart We might be on other ends of the world But our hearts are never apart.
So spread my word and spread it far
PerfectSonnetMy world has gone ahead and left me here To keep myself awake through lonely nights. I cannot help but wonder, wait, and fear; And fight between the weights of wrong and right. Warmth has left, and in it's place --a shiver Now keeps me from the realm of blessed sleep. You were once my strength, but now I quiver, For when you left you took with you my peace. So my heart will try to beat --but faintly. I'll sit in patience 'waiting your return. The life I felt before --a distant mem'ry.Sonnet
With every breath I take I feel the burn. I made the choice to love and set you free --
Second SonnetSome people find that life is a nightmare; Some can only see just fear, pain and rage. Some people twist in the grip of despair. Some madly curse at their self-imposed cage. Others brave the storms which churn up their seas, And turn to meet the passionate winds that blow. They pilot their small craft just as they please, And seem to know no fear in doing so. And when their memories rain bloody tears Into the midnight waters, flecked with foam, They make their heart a helmsman, and it steers Unscathed through the tempest to its dear home. So have self-belief, though turbuSecond Sonnet
SonnetDo you hear the silence of an empty night? When the wind fails to whisper to the stars, Or the breeze drops the unwary bird from flight, To leave it broken, burdened by a thousand scars.Sonnet
Do you see the quiet of a barren morn? The hollow sounds of hope slowly dying Leaving nothing in its wake to be reborn But the endless shouts of hundreds crying.
Do you feel the painful blade of fate? The silver edge that falsely shines Refined by a thousand years of hate And soundly tempered by world designs.
Do you know it? That whisper in the night? It is dar
--
Come to the edge, he said,
They said: We are afraid
Come to the edge, he said.
They came,
He pushed them,
...and they flew.
Guillaume Apollinaire
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What're you lookin' at, punk?
--
Your skin and bones turn into something beautiful; you know, you know I love you so.
--
Uh, mom? The bathroom is talking to me again. Should I get my vitamins?
--
Your skin and bones turn into something beautiful; you know, you know I love you so.
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