She Devil
My pulse has been rising, my temples are pounding. The pressure is so overwhelming, and building fast. She'll steal your breath, until it's your last. She's a devil, with such class. She makes your senses, fade, and shiver. She's nothing but a devil. She'll be trouble, just you wait you'll see.
Friday 15th May 2015 1:02 am
A Walking Man Never Understands
They say, to pull yourself up by your bootstraps , but if they knew, I can’t stand or that my leg’s are wobbly and weak. Do you think, they’d be telling me to get off my knee’s, to stand on my own two feet? Not to set on my hand’s but to really rise, and stand to use my feet? Really man, get a grip. I use a walker or a stick.
Thursday 14th May 2015 7:57 pm
Life's Flight
Serving the sun, and its light. I give none to my own delight. Slowly I sink into a sunken life, like everyone else. My life begins to fade, like the sun on a cloudy day. I became a bird, fly away the sun beckoned. Its beam's stretched out to grip at my wing's. I fell with such grace, my beauty never defended nor denied. Life bit at my soul, weakening my flight. Slowly I sunk into my life.
Thursday 14th May 2015 7:12 pm
Pain
Pain was never my friend. He might sit with me for this moment, but in the end he never stay's. The manner in which he comes, is never a welcomed presence. He never knocks, or waits to be invited. I never know when he's coming or going. I push, and I pull, he tug's and he clings with all of his might. He leaves me, burning in agony. Pain was never welcomed company.
Thursday 14th May 2015 7:31 am
Made Of Shadow
I am a shadow, hallow, and bear. My being was left wavering to the wind, a blacked soul, never touched by the light. I became thin like paper, so my ink can bleed through. I will always be behind you, never making a sound. For I am made of silence, a lacking of light, a void of color and shape. But yet, I mimic your every move.
Thursday 14th May 2015 7:17 am
Imperfections
Spirit and mind part, stretching out there seam's. Between the light and the dark, crack's are seen, visible for all to see. Imperfections are mark's of beauty, that never fade out. I am an old soul, with burnt edges, I am crisp falling a part; as time takes everything that I own. Nothing, is what I own. These are but my imperfections.
Thursday 14th May 2015 6:50 am
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