you held me in your hand,
you took me everywhere - at your mercy.
you would drop me in the sand,
continually batter my heart and soul,
then only would you go looking for your mercy which you lost, somewhere in the sand.

Our childhood's prime game;
Creating a paper plane.
Making it fly high,
But it never reached the sky.

We would continue to raise the bar,
But still we wouldn't get very far.
We would trust a redesign,
But never anything different from our own design.

We would work soley for ourselves;
To keep the success to ourselves.
We would spend all day redesigning a paper plane,
But never on redesigning our life's shame.

We live for a paper plane
And its thrill - day by day.
We would accept our life's flaws,
But never our paper plane's flaws.

We would live for irrelevant people and objects,
But never for our own salvation.
We would live with a self-opinionated attitude,
But why do we now live with our opinion based on that of the world?

We live like a paper plane;
Flying high, just to be redesigned.
The world never helps us stay sane
As we're always seen as a failed design.

love pollutes the soul
forcing us to make assumptions
and forcing us to make sacrifices
all for one goal - love

love intoxicates our minds
forcing us to make the incorrect decisions
and forcing us to say words we never meant
all for one goal - love

love poisons those who fall in it
ultimately tearing them apart from each other
and breaking the connection they had
all due to one goal - love

Poetry is the key to the soul.
It cracks it open like a tin can, and most times, it floods it with a waterfall of tears.

Poetry is the key to the mind.
It enters and cleanses any impure part, forcing the mind to realise it's wrongs and inspire it to do right.

Poetry is the key to the heart.
It enters the heart and sweeps away residue from heartbreak and repairs any cracks to be perfect once again.

Poetry is the key to feelings.
It enters the heart and soul and pierces your emotions like a sword through another's heart, making you realise that he's not the one and that he's doing this all for fun.

Poetry can enter pretty much anything.

Love is a 4 letter word with different meanings and properties.

It can be the appreciation¹, the admiration², the affection³ or even the constant need⁴ for person or object.

Love can be overrated¹.
It is seen as a fulfillment² of one's lustful³ nature and not as an intimate⁴ and mutual way of showing affection.

Love should not envy¹, it should be kind².
Love does not boast³, and it is patient ⁴.

4 fingers represent 4 different meanings and properties of love...

4 is the half of 8, the shape of Infinity.

2 sets of 4 intertwined fingers makes 8, love lasting for Infinity. - The holding of hands.

You lured me into your grasp,
and looked at me with determined eyes.
Your biggest task was to use me,
and it was obvious that everything that you told me were honest lies.

When I was close enough,
you manipulated and exploited me.
Every time I opened up,
you tore the opening even wider.

When our souls intertwined,
mine got stuck.
I desperately tried to free myself,
but you were tugging at it,
ripping it apart.

You lured me in and got me to be comfortable with you so that you could use and abuse me "just for fun".

She wears a mask.
Her beauty is hidden away from us and we think that she's just adding extra fuss.

She's hiding.
Her mask could be hiding the scars that she doesn't want the world to see.

She believes society.
Her whole soul is written in societal phrases which degrade her in all of her beautiful spaces.

She's afraid of her identity.
Her mask is all we see, but her heart wants to secretly jump out at you and me.