She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~

Tell me if Earth is flat or round,
She hears thin weeping willow's cry.
How planet was this built is too profound.

Tell me about the origins of life.
Where sky was dark, no sound,
Just glimpse of His first light.

Tell me about the waterfall of words
That tends to spill and drown
The valleys of my life.

Tell me about your sins and virtues.
The only truth I want to know
Is if they hurt you.

Tell me why quiet is your tongue,
And why the burden of this time
confusion and debation sprung.

i am me
myself
and i
that's it
that's all i need
just me
myself
and i.

i don't need love
i don't need anybody
just me
myself
and i.
i've got me
for life,
just me
myself
and i.

the best thing you could teach two another

is how to love themselves,
so they can return the favor;
now that would be a refund!

There the floating scholar of green lines read,
There the shading peasant of sun-fields plowed,
There the fleeing empress of coral red gowns,
There the graying knight of frost-broken vows.
A tree is a haunted ruin of bare limbs and rooms.

But thought scurries around like a five-lined skink
With its tail shimmering blue as oil floating on water.

He has trouble letting go of bad memories  
It’s the only thing that keeps him company
Some people say he needs therapy
He whispers to himself daily

He doesn’t want to get rid of the pain
It reminds him life is just a game
But when the soul can’t take the strain
That’s when the fragile heart breaks

This happens to be the start of his art
He creates poetry so he doesn’t fall apart
He shares it with us so we can say
“**** man, I feel the same”

That is his aim, it helps him to stay sane
Reaching out to those who can relate
This could be his claim to fame
But writing will always be his main escape