Most people live for love
But some of us live because of it

Such unforgivable forgetfulness
Lost within potential photos
Preoccupied and overly abrasive
Harmless yet persuasively implicit
These eyes are speechless
But explicitly dying to speak
A picture so perfect for lust
A thousand words
Just isn't enough
Deeply indebted
With every glance
  Too perplexed by color  
  How none of it belongs  
  Another illustrated nightmare   
Where sleep is prolonged
Where the sick plans
To escape with the thought
Trapped inside the mind
So adolescent
Oh picture the heartache
Rejoicing over a carcass
Still standing
And rapturing moments
We all long to feel
This winter shiver
So sicken from cold feet
An undying hunger
For butterfly soup
Proof
What worthy time to be alive
Clearly sold on the vision
Never too hasty to cover
This lover isn't blind  
But envisioned
May we all fall victim
To the photos
We aren't viable to find

I am life
Unwanted, Unplanned, Unexpected
Or perhaps
a failed expectation.

There are many major reason
to
Why oh Why
I was a mistake

But there is one important reason why I needed to be born?

“I deserved to live”

What is so wrong for me to have what you have?
To breathe what you breathe
To eat what you eat
To experience
life itself.

You may not care for me, but I am sure someone would.

I anticipate the future what is like to live
what is like to have my own choice
now a little too late.

You know maybe someday
There will come a time that mankind
will lose the ability to reproduce,
the signs is already there
you just don’t see it.

Often times man create its own demise.

I wish you just have let me live and then give me away,
That I would understand.

I wish I could be a test-tube baby
Perhaps that I would have a chance
Of entering this god given world.

All are too late now.

I am sheer whisper,
A pleading spirit who wants to be heard
I came out of nothing penned down
in someone’s emptied mind
written in this emptied paper he holds so dear.

I am nothing but just a smeared ink
in this white sheet
laying around
waiting to be understood.

I don't write poems to trend
But because I need a friend
I can't easily blend
So I write to my plight end

I write not for just one person
And to contain overflowing passion
My tutor in my own poetry session
So I write each time I need a lesson

I write not of only the life I've led
But also the stuff I've hitherto read
About the living as I speak to the dead
To exorcise the monsters lingering in my head

I write out of the hurdles and their cost
For the love found and the love lost
I write about mysterious encounters
I write every time my mind saunters