I think the moon is big and bright
but on this night...
All i can picture is you in the sun,
wondering where this went wrong...
A poet's pen with dexterous hand
Ink to paper often can...
October presses me against his chest -
I feel all the sadness he summons...
Disappointment draws you by the hand,
projecting you to the sky...
There was no fog
just shades of gray...
When you know it doesn't matter,
But you do it anyway...
When my words come lashing into my face
I look up and start to cry...
Spoken thoughts
An untapped mind...
sheath your gaze –
i have no response for your tiger eyes...
This is just a mess of words - not even poetry...
This year hasn't been the best, for any of us...
it's the third week of
august and i'm eating...