In the depth's of my soul exists a secret place,
created long ago when still an infant at age four...
Porcelain
smooth as sin...
It starts with just a dot
but begins to grow...
The cherry blossoms
They Sing in the moon lit night...
You stand on the bridge
they beckon below...
She keeps her chin up
but casts her eyes down...
*Yes this poem is a little lame, but i wrote it...
How many children can loose...
Laying on my bed, drowning in sadness,
Losing my mind, drifting to madness...
Beside the window.
You had to let go...
Everyday is the same old thing,
He goes to school...
Hidden Truths And Broken Lies
Shattered dreams upon pillow tops...
What is real the philosopher asks
I am replies the famous thinker...