Melodies intertwine as these
Undeveloped minds
Scrape by in
Isolation to find some
Consolation

Every time
I look
into your beautiful eyes
full of joy
and twinkling
with excitement,
it reminds me
how much
I really
truly
love
you.

Lost
in a body
she should have had all her life.

Yet
she doesn't
know who she really is.

Dark
is what
she was made of.

An Angel
is who
she began as.

Then
with Lucifer
she fell.

Purple
and black
hair that falls down her back.

Piercing
purple eyes,
the color of African violets.

The Stench
of death
surrounds her.

Two lay in bed,
awaiting sleep as they lie in each other's arms.

Quietly speaking,
with their breath and slowing heartbeats.

They have found it,
peace, love, happiness.

When will we get to be them?

As the world falls asleep,
darkness blankets everyone.

The children warm in their beds,
the lovers happily snuggled against each other,
the new parents hoping to get just one night of peace and quiet,
the old woman who is sleeping alone for the first time in 80 years,
the single father who guiltily hires a nanny to watch his son during the day,
the lost man slumped against a building on a cold winter's night,
they are all covered by the same blanket of dark.

Then why have they yet to notice each other?

A poem is like a giant jawbreaker.
It has layers which are revealed with time.
Each layer revealing a new color and flavor.
No two are exactly alike.
Every single one has something new to offer.
A new pattern of colors and flavors, or words.
All artistically aligned.
For everyone to enjoy.
Practically endless.