The closer you get,
The more you make mistakes,
The more  mistakes that are made,
The better you become,
Weakness is strength.

be her
be him
be you
why not be me

Everybody wants to be You
but you are not anybody else

i have been persuaded
kneeled down
beg to end-
hide-and-seek game
will you-
yes,
You

people say we eager for similarity
but
no puzzle ever be the same
the distinction makes us-
complete
or
insane

Tears trenched paper
Wind thrilled through the ear
Raindrops permeated sand
The road led to the end
Darkness crushed the trail
Shadow reflected the pain
Baby boys
Baby girls
Standstill
Standstill
We are on the way

In the beginning, there was skin
fresh, soft, unblemished, unnamed
bound to be clad by blooming blue rose
baby bud bearing but thorns in its heart
Drifting along to kiss every inch
of that ****** beauty with grace
And there came the first scratch
Thirteen drops of blood
A drop of tear
And a full stop!
Congealed blood! Evaporated tear!
In the beginning there was no scar
but a tender rose to teach pain
pain with all its notoriety
and calamitious cloud of nothingness.
scars tiptoed towards the chest of skin
Now nourishing, naming each narrow path
No blood, no tear.
Thus, as a woman's womb gives birth
to hold up this tipsy life,
pain is a must.

I came out with a little something
To tantalise the world with
I put on a magician cloak
And a top hat to top the world
There was that mind blowing show
At 7 pm each wednesday.
I sold people embroidered lies
And bought their colossal blunders
Yet, none could feed the hunger I carried
In the pit of my stomach
Or the thirst that would wipe out my barren eyes
Till some intruder having planned before
Broke in to the show, blasting the door
As audience fled, my cloak caught fire
The top hat descended like acid rain
corroding my magic into pieces of wood and wire
All gone and I stood watching
How my utmost dreams flew away .
Two tinsy droplets began dancing on my cheeks
The hunger that ached my stomach for weeks
Muttered: Voila!
And the intruder had left with nothing to say.

Has the close of day ever have you morph into something you were not meant to be as if you were Optimus Prime.
And The darkness strikes you like Evening skies strikes the earth at 9.
And like a scared baby you whine?
And you become Depressed like a prisoner who screams for help from the bars they are locked behind.
Trapped in box space in a moments time whose senses are growing blind as The negative thoughts chills the spine.
Dont be The Inmate Whose thoughts put you in a place to be confined.
Go to Your that happy place In your mind
and Reverence The One Who is Truely Divine in that peaceful place of Shrine.
Because The battle for right choices begins in our minds.