Regret is not a choice
that you can be sure of
making right
here and now
but never again
shall we be free
for all
I cannot know
what
lies above
began
be gone!

Breath in, breath out,
Try not to breath -
Nothing should go amiss.

Sometimes it's not enough,
But suddenly it's tough,
And all the edges are exceptionally rough.

Drips after drops,
There are no flops,
The rain is always succeeding.

I pen this powerful piece of prominent prominence in praise of my passion
I power these powerful words
To empower your purpose
Your presence, presents
And presentations presented to us a privilege to profit from your priceless
And precious prizes

Weak people prefer power
But powerful people prefer to empower weak people
I am pleased and proud
And promise to provide partnership to your projects

Precisely, I picked and puzzled these powerful words
So particular people can see and pluck from this precious plant
The plain plan of the poem is to paint pretty pictures in pixel

This piece is not a prequel
Though I see the “pre” in the “quel”, I’m trying to recall
The purpose of this prequel
Only for my parents to tell me Patrick, Pause and play this piece in a sequel.

No I will not write a poem
Obviously I will not
There’s no way anyone can make me
How come people keep trying
I know their efforts will fail
No matter how hard they try to
Great, now I’ve written a poem
~
NM
04/11/19

Sally's oven is on highest heat
Shaken and baking the meat, a treat
All the trimmings set forth
Her bird's a rising north
The game ****'s glow knocked her off her feet

Logan Robertson

9/19/2019

Sally sashayed straight to her man's  source
Overhead, their song played on with force
Like jockeys in a saddle
Two lovers rage a battle
That madly left their concourses hoarse

Logan Robertson

9/07/2019

like bricks in a wall
we fall under the category of Filling the columns.

*like a cry from a mortal
who writes letters to get his words in place
so i send 'em through a time portal
as he lives in a different age,
making my piece immortal.
resuscitating minds in their conclusive days*/

the way to my sanctorum
filling the void, in place by the devastation caused by your ammunition.
a threat to the decorum(of the living world)
//all the universe's spheres combined
still wouldn't fit the diametre of the iris in my eyes\
when i see through you
see THROUGH your mask you
put on to remove the pollution
purifies the skin
and leaves you with
white and glowing
insecurities and commotion.

people flew with the notion
selling their psych in portions
if i would've bought it
then they would've called it
profit in oceans.
Every year you grew more insensitive
and called it promotion.
------------------------------------
through the strands of your hair
i see a clock
with each of its hands facing the opposite of one another
as dynamic as the hues of your face
but in the center.. have the same colour
a ***** of your nail in my back causes
the epiphany to rupture,
so either im too much into hating you
or half past the other.