Many poems I read seem so sad
The poems fills your eyes with tears
This doesn't mean the poems are bad
But sometimes a poem should be filled with cheer

There is so much beauty to write about
Not just lost love, fears, screams and shouts

A poem can be about
Flowers or trees
A poem can be about
Crystal blue seas

A poem can be about
a ring of smoke
Or a beautiful girl
Or about the beauty
We find in this world

I am happy to grow old
Getting older means
Getting closer to you

How I lie and break, broken till to the very tip of my bone
I dislike how I ate my own hate, swallowed till it reaches the gate
How the voices preach to breach the barriers of the untouched soul
Purity bleach the acidic preaches of ones owned,
rinsing the putrid echoes of THE hateful stone.

Innocence remains unreached; it’s a battle of everyday presence.
My pure essence survives the life’s impermanence.

Winning and Losing stands in equilibrium.
Life is not as tasty as the sweet brew.

I’m strong enough not to let you see me fall apart
So I hide my cries between my sighs.

I’m strong enough to stand alone against the cold landscape
So I hide my sadness between fake faces.

I crave, I starve, I wonder
And get lost in the process.
Then end up getting back to where I started.

How far will I stay strong?
How far will I carry along this dying song?
When will I ever belong?
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