He left, I was only a boy; vernal and
frail
and ignorant,
In a fierce world, hardship and
dread there
within, and there was I, growing
bitter
and ever
cold.
I clung to her who's flesh from
whence I
came;from her who bore birth's
pain.
Her
nurture fed me and her heart
spilled on
mine a good, ever growing close in
her
tightening grip
Time has past, a bitter grew, him
towards.
He lingers in a memory close,
But her presence created me a
peace, soft
and sweet, heavy not my heart, and
I
suffered nomore.
I remember ever since I was a
kid being called bastard.
The mention of the words
seems to be followed by giggles
and laughter.
Seems to be relived at the
beginning of every chapter.
But it I shouldn't be amazed.
For seems to be a joking trend
amongst friends these days.
Imprinting a label on me that
can't ever be erased.
But do you hear me laughing
better yet do you see me
smiling.
Where every time it's spoken
my identity becomes more
trifling.
Raised by a mother and
mentions of a ghostly man.
Never really was able to
understand.
Why I wasn't ever part of his
plan.
For these emotions use to eat
me up inside.
But I always was able to hide.
The feeling of abandonment,
pain and lies.
But you still call me bastard like
its a nice thing to do.
Not knowing how lucky you to
be raised by two.
My family is forever divided.
I searched but can't find him.
And I honestly don't want to
look no more.
But you call me bastard with
out ever seeing a grin on my
face.
Not realizing the pain it creates.
A word that is left with so much
hate.
Hopefully none you never have
to deal with a word bastard
creates.
Identity of I
The thought that made me
contemplate who ever I'd see
The vision was blur but yet
made me instigate whatever I
dreamed
To my friends and relatives who
eventually see the truth in me
By definition there's more to it,
made me question did it really
describe me
Not really, see I'm a loner
Do I smoke? Maybe let my
mind drain but doesn't make
me a stoner
Lost inside depths of a monster
that surfaces as I grow older
But just as I'm older, Me,
Myself and I bond closer
Despite the struggle and way
past the rumors and disses
I stay strong postponing the
thought of braking into a
million pieces
The idea of hope banished all
fears in which many rely
All my time invested in
questions asking who am I?
But really the question is...
Who are you?
For my love, I woke up this
morning after having a reality
dream.
I got my thoughts together
knowing that taking you to the
bank to have you sign has a
beneficiary is the best thing to
do
Yes my love, I know your
looking at me as though Your in
disbelief. But you say why right
now? Why your only in your
40's. Are you trying to tell me
something mother ? Do you
need to tell me something? I
reply my love, NO you see I
had this dream which I thought
I was not dreaming. So much
financial things left undone so
therefore I decided to try and
make that reality dream not
become reality and not take life
for granted.
This is just another tale from the
crypt another one bites the dust I
guess she didn't make the guest list,
just another enigma, that's what she
called me when she couldn't paint
this picture but I say she should've
just drunk from another pitcher,
assumptions turns into to a failed
attempt to someone who could
decrypt ya thoughts actions
emotions, and weeks later it still
hasn't soaked in, so it seeps in threw
the cracks of past feelings but I
refuse to look back on my life but
still I envision the ghost of my past,
taking me back down memory lane,
but I know better my present is a
gift and my past is something I
wouldn't exchange, no matter how it
looks is that the reason I'm reading
so many books, I guess I'm looking
for the secrets that they hid, will I
find out it was indeed the truth or
another fictitious fib, so I open that
door that door without hesitation
knowing that if I expose the truth
they might send me on my final
destination, so it's do or die and my
life has an expiration date on it
anyway I understand I'm damned if
I do, so hello to sleepless nights
once more with no regrets as I
expose the truth
If you really knew me
Would you be surprised?
Could you make yourself gasp
If you saw beyond my eyes?
Will the truth startle you
And scare you away?
Or would it welcome you
And ask you to stay?
Would you yell at me
And call me a fake?
Or would you look closer
And find nothing to take?
Can I ask you to believe me
And say everything is fine?
Or would try to save me
And help me not to hide?
Hide whined all these years
Of weak strength and despair.
Hold me up with your faith
And prove to me you care.
All I really want is
For someone to dare.
Step outside the boundaries
And prove the world is fair.
But if you really knew me
Would you be surprised?
Would YOU take the chance
To see beyond my eyes?
that day brought me
and begun to count with me
I knew much about what to
be,
all I see was me..
when I begun to be,
the world I began to see,
as bright as it could be,
where else would that be,
if am not me?
when I look at me,
all I see was me,
and felt much how I feel,
who knows why I am me,
I felt offensive to ask why
was I me.
so helped me God, I am me,
and will forever remain me,
nothing greater than me,
and nothing less than me.
I live my life me,
and it will end me,
and when it's over, me..
maybe someone like me and
not me you see..
If you are loving me and
you are just loving it,
I have a song for you, you
may stand, soar or sit,
but wherever you go, you
will grow in glow,
and whatever you sow will
not be sick and slow.
If you hate me and you just
cannot help it,
I have got a timeless tip for
you, trick or treat?
Die while you are dreaming
of drowing me,
or live while you are
longing for to love me.
If you are on the fence, you
are free but don't fall,
If you crave a creative
companion, care to call,
but know that this soul
simply seeks serenity
on the hills of honour,
hiding in a hut of humility.
Let me scream,
coz these haters are full of
sin.
Help me win,
in a world where losing
makes you weak.
Be my cane,
in this slippery road owned
by the rain.
Gently heal me,
coz this bruised ego might
just kill me.
Look at me,
for that innocent boy
could never be.
Remember life,
before it stabbed me hard
with a knife.
Oh, would you spare me
my soul,
as my song is sang by the
grey owl.
Of crimes i'm capable,
but my family stares not at
an empty table.
I tell my story though,
it draws nothing but a sigh.
Living in the fast lane ,
Brough my name to
shame.
FORGIVE my faults,
as guilt never pauses
What does LOVE mean to you?
You continue to miss use it but I don't judge you
You say it to me though I don't feel the same way
How am I suppose to LOVE when I feel rushed?
That's why your feelings will be crushed
Think about how your actions is making me feel
Come on now keep it TRUE
And if you do take your time to consider how I feel then I may actually
fall for you
But for now this will be the line I will tell you
TOO QUICK TOO FAST NO LOVE WILL COME FROM ME SO I WILL TAKE A
PASS
At the evening of life, we shall be judged on our love.-
John of the Cross
This virtue that is permanently hooked
to my body, I call love.
Is has a multitude of definitions
for me it constitutes white doves.
A survival instinct that I use to bond
my important relationships together.
No doubt I've felt rage before
but found it useless in bad weather.
Love sings through my darkest dreams
protecting my altered state.
Allowing peace and calm
to flow within me when I wake.
There are so many things that define me
and to explain would require hours.
Love is the foundation of me
providing strength and superpowers.
Any situation I've been faced with
has one common link each time.
If I pause and breath and find some love
I'm able to find my legs and climb.
Wearing your heart on your sleeve
means be prepared for getting hurt.
On the other hand the pure you feel
is like wearing your favorite t-shirt.
So if anyone asks me to tell them
what recipe I'm made from.
I'd simply respond with prideful words
love never makes me numb.
Walk with me , please.
So many things I must tell you.
Walk with me , please,
under stars, before this night flees.
Stories I'll tell, while the moon's new.
Strolling through the grasses wet dew,
walk with me, please.
Patience
Patience is something I know that I lack,
I’m one waiting line away from a heart attack.
I want immediate satisfaction, immediate result,
I’m running a race, not dancing a waltz.
I’m always early, I’m never late,
Procrastination is something I hate.
I’m not one to sit on my hands,
My attention span is like a rubber band.
Pull me too far, I’ll snap and break,
Yet you tease me to see how much I can take.
You say “a good woman is worth waiting for”.
And you’re smiling all-the-while I’m pacing the floor.
“Patience my dear” you say with a grin,
As we walk out the door, late once again.
Evening finally comes and you’re ready for bed,
You fluff up the pillow under your head.
“Are you coming My Love?” a passionate cry,
“In a minute Sweetheart, the ballgames a tie”.
Patience!
This path beneath me reverberates its inevitable decay.
As the seminal seasons die I ask how my eyes became so numb?
Are these recurring dreams not my own?
I shouted the nights into coming storms.
Surely no man can lead me to my own salvation.
This much I know so bound to the dirt I carve my desire.
Craving my own existence I close me eyes and breath.
Even If I die of age or ail I'll smile still.
A life lived is a lesson learned.
The blooming forest will always be reborn and then die again.
The process repeats itself for what reason?
Am I to transcend this meaningless perception?
If I am fated the circle then my answer is simply no.
Only until my last drawn breath can I rest in time.
Through involuntary action it animates from within.
Returning to the womb the soul again becomes restless.
If I am fated to the perceived circle then my answer is simply no.
How easy it is to look outside of our self and lash out at our tangible surrounds and
full them up with our negative emotions, has this been passed down to me is a gift
from my father as the appropriate way of dealing with my emotions which I find hard
to understand.
How easy is it to be angry as I know this feeling very well, as I can feel it burn my
tummy up? It hits the top of my head then flows to my hands. How hard I find this
to control, as this is what I have been taught to do, without hesitation I can bring
the pain up and allow it to absorb all around me engulfing my family in the fire that
rages in me.
I now have to distinguish my fire and notice my love ones are burning, yet I have to
spit and burn the pain out of me, now I can move and be alive until the anger boils
again and the fire engulfs all I have known.
Why do I know so much about outside me , why do I see and believe what I see
outside me, why does the burning start outside and then heads inside myself where
I cannot understand, where I cannot see , how do I control something that is
blinded to me and I cannot understand why.
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