She change a lot
After a year, when we become one
I've always asked her, but
Repeatedly I've heard none

I knew she was hiding something
I've felt it in my bone
She refused to stop working
When I've said "woman's place should be at home"

My friends told me, to look into her eyes
"You are not looking good" they've said
Really our situation is not getting nice
She doesn't play well on our bed

To chop the ice
Might be I will find another mysterious elf
So I look into her eyes
And I saw my pity jealous self

10/08/2015
Mysterious Aries

I wanna stop wondering what if '
I wanna start knowing what is'


-second chance

I’m no author, novelist or poet.
I’m just Me,
And don’t I know it.
I don’t need to be classified,
As long as I’m writing, I’m satisfied.

Typing out words, line by line,
I don’t care if they don’t rhyme.
I don’t care if my verses don’t scan:
I’m not always an Iambic Man.

I just say what I gotta say,
I’m not worried about any pay.
Words come to me without much bidding,
The world of its evils I hope to be ridding.

I love to spread lots and lots of Love,
Bringing peace to all like a messenger dove.
Things of beauty bring joy, John Keats rightly said,
To make us sleep easy when we go to bed.

So I’ll paint what I paint,
And sing what I sing,
Just letting those words
Do their magical thing.

Paul Butters

You pierce my brain with worry
my body wants to close the shutters
to block your morning light

You inject me with responsibility
making me ache for childhood and loose youth
that was full of simple duties

You slap the "wake up" on my
lazy weekend face
causing me to feel the pain of facing the world

You dear Monday
are one hell of a *******