The seek of love...

Im a sad lonely man who writes love poems with his filthy hands. The yearning for that special ones hand is enough to drive my head into the sand. I am a man with needs i say, Yet i dont look at the feelings of the object that my desires see. Indeed, What a sad life, A pitiful life, Without you, There is no life. I burden you with the only heart that beats, the one that's on my chest hoping you can put it to rest the rest? It does not matter, For you that is all that matters. Saying your are my world would be a lie when your texting that other handsome guy, So what im i? A friend or foe? For you are the one to show. 

A hairy fat slobbish sicking man with many thoughts and words in his hand wet tears around his eyes. Dark room but a pillow and a blanket to hug, For you are the one, Who's missing in my arms, but one day, With my charm's, That could be no more, No more..

The hiring sale.

                      THE HIRING SALE : 

Suitcase full for shells, Inside empty, Nothing but full of spells and make beliefs that I dwell, bow or a tie, loose with the shoulder with nothing to behoove, Sitting corner porch, open crotch with a light at the end of the smoke bud, sleepless eyes with thought of fame and meaning behind his eyes. Down on the luck's he said, better be a tommorow or no cheese on my bread. And there he sat, Wispier quiet, Alley lamp illuminating over his head. His shade slept that night, For what is seemed, for him, it was a perilous night. So to my readers who have a seeking out there for meaning, All I have to say to you, Good night.

The split

THE SPLIT: 

I don't feel suicidal, not doubtful, It's a different type of doubt. It's a type of doubt where the unexpectedly expects you. Where you are the richest man in the world and yet you don't have nothing to show for it. It is in an essence, A pull, an inner struggle, A push for the things that you can do better. It's a feeling where you have determination yet no dedication. It's a bad wierd feeling. It's a cloud that hangs over your head as your hands try to rip it out from you, Even with the many hands you call upon for help, It doesn't go away. It's a person who sees the cup half full yet half empty. 

It's a person, That much he/she acknowledges of themselves. Doesnt know what to say, to know what to hear. It's the best analogy I got, A pot of strew filled with words, swirling and brewing, it's words have meaning some how but when he/she tries to spit those words out, They come out like porridge, Hot, sticky and for some, Disgusting.

This is a poem that I wrote during an interaction or lack of interaction from a person that I used to know..... we don't talk much and do not know why this person is acting this way, This individual has been stubborn on there choices and do not see that a person can make mistakes, I'd that said person searches for redemption and apology, Then surely, One must hear him/her out, Even if he is the most despicable human being from his past actions, We must humanise ourselves, even towards the wicked and unjust. We are nothing but human, And if that human wants reconciliation for his actions, We all got nothing but to hear him/her and listen, Even for a brief moment.

                    The Broken Coconut : 

Cant let go, The things I know, To forgo to the realm of possibility of redemption. With joy, I can admit my smiling mistakes, I'll do anything that it takes for me to rake the mistakes I made. Stern stubborn looks with hurting word hooks for a book that I took time to look. " No redemption " they say, Point there fingers from straight away to my name from far away. To let go, Is it a possibility? For them to forgive me, Is it conceivability ? Thou has sinned, They yell, They tell with pitchforks and knifes and tell me that i am everything that they despise. 

Open your eyes I tell, For them to yell back

 " go to hell ". With banishment, They cast me aside, With smiles and laughter, While I cry inside. Casting judgement on " Thou has sinned and soiled our name, For you who is to blame! Forgiveness? Forget this, We are the perfect ones filled with righteousness ". 

After my anger faded into the darkness with bitter and sorrow, I still have a light for you to borrow. My heart is big as a coconut, But was shattered like a wall nut. But for what pieces has been left, I shall pick them up, And restart again.