There was a never a man that was born like this And to understand why I am like this You first have to understand pain. Only then can you judge the man you see.
Category Archives: Prose
DARKNESS
Don’t ever get close to me if you’re scared of the night.Don’t ever get close if you’re scared of darkness.
Fear
i have become the very darkness I once was afraid of and believe me,The moment people sense the darkness, they will walk awayBelieve me when I tell you that “opening up” is a trap.Some things were never meant for the ears of men.Some truths, like dirt, are best swept under the carpet.
Loving you in bits
I can’t love you in bits. I know I shall scare you away. I guess that’s the price I have to pay. But I shouldn’t have to hold back pieces of my heart. So if my kind of love scares you, if my kind of love freaks you out, if my kind of love isContinue reading “Loving you in bits”
Day 4
Day 4 What do I live for? What do I suffer for? Why does my chest feel sore? Ohh! I’ve been here before -Battling toxic addictions-
Nightfall
When night falls, good men fall with it. With the Lord’s angels by their side, they sleep. Full of hope, full of life. But with that same nightfall, Some men go to war forsaken by God. And tonight I, the poet, I ride with those men into battle. “Good” men, but worse, darkened souls. AndContinue reading “Nightfall”
Graveyard
I need a place to burry my dirt But would you stay if maybe, If maybe I buried it within your heart? I’m the kind of man that keeps falling Collecting scars invisible to the eye. Yet my heart’s still longing and calling. I’ve done things in the absence of light Created permanent silhouettes inContinue reading “Graveyard”
Smell of fuel
I love old cars the smell of raw fuel when you finally hit the gas. I love the long silent walks down the far country side where natures aura blossoms. And I love the sun a dying light at dusk the hope of a new day at dawn. But you know what I really loveContinue reading “Smell of fuel”
broken
when tears dont flow and the heart feels no more; Things only the broken know. Solomon
life story
It’s always the eyes, always has been. They write the first few lines of this poem, And the first few lines of any good story. Its been written by our ancestors that moments before you die, Your whole life flashes right before your eyes. But the ancestors were wrong, for our life stories are writtenContinue reading “life story”
