|
Frustration.It bleeds him.Cuts him deeper than any knife to the gullet ever could.But he cannot speak,He is frozen.
|
|
Cast adrift on a shore of time,Where the wind weeps and the tide howls,The lonely man sits....Contemplating his own existence.
|
|
A series of thoughts, with no real connection. Call it my poetic stream of consciousness, if you like.
|
|
She was beautiful...The type of beautiful that you seldom see.Yet she lay there, lifeless.It was the type of Thursday that she had come to expect.And ..
|
|
Imagination.Fixated by the fact and the illusion.Contraction,The art of retraction, cost cutting, labor starving.How can I help you if I no longer exi..
|
|
I am love and I am hope,Sifting through the porous capillaries of society,To land where I am forgotten,And shed light on an overcast dream.
|
|
Those heroes,
The ones whose faces continue to go unrecognised,
And whose names will never be spoken,
Are the ones to whom we will forever be indeb..
|
|
Paint the sky,Walk with me,Do not look backOr the shadows will catch you.
|
|
The fleeting moments we shareSave me from what is an otherwise shallow day.A day full of smiles and exchanged greetings,All of them fake.Polite, but f..
|
|
It's funnyOne day you're ahead of the curveThen, all of a sudden, you're trying to find that curveTrying to find that verb that will get you movingTry..
|
|
|