The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

I need him,
Dead or alive,
I need him.

He needs me,
Dead or alive,
He needs me.

It doesn't matter,
Dead or alive,
It really doesn't.

Dead,
I'll have him,
Dead.

Alive,
The same,
Alive.

It makes no difference,
I just need him,
Dead or alive.

Another love poem,
All the roses,
And the 'I love you's,
The 'I wish you were mine's,
And the sweet messages behind.

Another love poem,
With you as the sun,
To my cloudy sky,
With you as the life,
To my lifeless body.

Another love poem,
All the foolishness,
Of letting you go,
And all the hoping,
That you haven't forgotten.

Another love poem,
Why did you leave me,
Why did you choose her over me,
Was I destined for loneliness,
Or is it just my luck?

Another love poem,
With you as the dove,
Leaving my cage of a heart,
With you as the water,
Running away from my stream.

Another love poem,
And I can't promise you,
It's going to be the last one,
Because it's not.

Because love is so wide,
And so complicated,
That one poem doesn't cut it,
Ten poems don't cut it,
It's continuous.

Another love poem,
That's really,
All we need.

Stained of red,
Blood of them,
Secrets,
Lay upon their stem.

Stained of red,
Lost souls roam,
Some merciless hearts,
Made of stone.

Stained of red,
A leaf is grown,
Though there is no way,
To take back what as shown.

Stained of red,
A protection, a shield,
They hide what was done,
Something one man could not wield.

Stained of red,
In the fields they cover,
Men all lay,
A son, uncle and brother.

Stained of red,
They hide the war,
They now bring peace,
They are the core.

Stained of red,
These poppies stand,
In Flanders fields,
Hand in hand.

You’ve had one,
You’ve had two,
A liar to some,
And the lie is you.

You’ve had three,
You’ve had four,
Wipe away that glee,
Because there will be no more.

But no, you’ve had five,
You’ve had six,
Karma will eventually arrive,
And that, you can’t fix.

You’ve had seven,
You’ve had eight,
You want that ticket back to heaven?
Yeah, well, you’re too late.

You’ve had nine,
You’ve had ten,
This is now a crime,
Don’t ever talk to me again.

You’ve had your last chance,
And now, I’m warning you,
Next time, you won’t get a glance,
And there’s nothing you can do.