I rip the ******* veins, right out of my ******* wrists,
and I want to punch the wall, until so broken are my fists,
I ****** up and now I have no idea just what to do,
these poems are so pointless, now they're not being read by you;

Where's your lady?
asked the chimpanzee
the bear looked askance

the tiger growled
zebras rolled
macaws looked in trance.

Where's she
your lady pretty
queried the lone rhino

it's not good
this solitude
roared the lion with raised eyebrow.

Did you lose your way
this November day
when the sky's blazing blue

this fair weather
you aren't together
how come asked the shrew.

Your face it shows
shouted hippos
this fine day of November

boars did grunt
scowled elephant
you're lost without her.

They were so true
alone at the zoo
emptiness surrounded me

daylight though gold
sky blue bold
I roamed unhappily.

the strength inside me disappeared
cause it took all of me
to pretend that i stopped loving you
cause you stopped loving me.

It was a pleasure when the Johnson’s moved in
But this is a new chapter that is going to begin
At first the house was thought of in being an average home
But the Johnson’s had no idea of what roams
Ghostly sounds of troubled moans
Cracks on the ceiling and walls
Streaks of heavy footsteps pounding the floors
Traces of faces of ghost who would appear
The idea of in your face of desperation fear
The Johnson’s held their hands to their hearts
Yet spirits are from souls
Ghostly acts of look and behold
Ghostly voices got louder and bolder
The Johnson’s were told to get out
A couple previously owned the house years ago had died
Real Estate agencies wanted the home to be sold and they gave every try
But within the house, you would hear a ghost in a sadly cry
The Anderson’s who were the dead owners prior of the house, vowed the house will never be sold
At least this was what all buyers were told
So ghost screams continued to go on
The time frame being for as long
The Ghost proclaimed, “Who says we shall be casted out”
We were the prior owners and will continue to move about
Our house being our entire life
It has always been our soul strive
Whoever buys the former Anderson’s house they will be silenced like an unsuspecting mouse
The thrills and chills will continue to prosper on
Soul to expected soul in where you will need to belong.

Clocks tick in silence
Each second stretches longer
Than the one before

An illusionary sleep
Has taken over every soul
Eyes wide open
Yet the vision is blurred
Every step is a stupor
Across broken paths
Not an inch of freedom
Spaces are traps
Detached from the soul
Every waking hour a tribulation
Truth swept under the delusion
Under an unknown spell
Magic wand instructs every move
It’s time to wake up
From an illusionary sleep