Full stop to the letter
Road which meets you
I was silence in a fog for years and I control the feeling like my eyes is open and you are near me as like clouds gets down to earth
My emotions of love by which I make my self high road by road night by night day by day your love dig a hole into my heart
My ego of to pick a salt of your love for all the pain and joy for which wait for the letter my heart is paining?
With love all
Jagdish bajantri
My inbox are empty
13 messages there
None is from you
So; my inbox is empty
With 13 messages in it
words were meant to be heard without a beat
Not knockn those sitting in the seat
it seems some lost there ability to see
My letters reflect me
I have no studio to rent
But that doesnt stop my message from getting sent
What happened to the stories
The awareness of real world worries
Are we concerned with the wrong thang
How about us who jus wanna sang
If it's not about "what i got", or smoke
My ears bleeding,body stuck, my soul choked
it's a message to what i wrote
Who decides if i'm artistic
This is my inbox to music
Copyright © Alesha Roche' | Year Posted 2013
Fancy spam emails
I don’t mind nor the ones
cobbled in broken English
from someone who says
he’s with a bank overseas
and is holding money for me
if I will send a small token
to show my good faith.
No, the spam emails
that bother me
are the ones that use
the names of people
I know well, like my daughter.
Those emails I’d like to answer.
We were close before she died.
Donal Mahoney
I swear I saw her last night,
About and around the block.
It made me flashback to the time,
When I used to be her inbox.
When I could tell you,
Her favorite color is blue.
And she loves to argue.
Born right after June.
Her curls at beautiful,
She has her father's smile.
And she'd never tell you,
About the scar above her eye.
And you would never know,
She doesn't like blonde locks.
She's never been I snow,
I know, I used to be her inbox.
Now I've no idea,
'Bout the state of her heart.
I'm just guessing her,
At a brand new start.
It feels plain awkward,
Not to feel her knocks.
Like I used to before,
When I was her inbox.
And when I saw her last night,
About and around the block.
I wished I could get back the time,
When I used to be her inbox.
My Inbox is Empty
They’re doin’ this and that
Mixing ‘n mingling
I’m at home
Writing and wishing
I open the mail
Hillary wants me at her party
I say okay
She asks for a buck
If I had a friend
He’d ask how I was doing
And I’d say
Fine.
Why cant i get to my inbox on mobil? The fuxk
words were meant to be heard without a beat
Not knockn those sitting in the seat
it seems some lost there ability to see
My letters reflect me
I have no studio to rent
But that doesnt stop my message from getting sent
What happened to the stories
The awareness of real world worries
Are we concerned with the wrong thang
How about us who jus wanna sang
If it's not about "what i got", or smoke
My ears bleeding,body stuck, my soul choked
it's a message to what i wrote
Who decides if i'm artistic
This is my inbox to music
Infected email
Undeliverable mail
Inbox full of spam
By Robb A. Kopp
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