A scar that doesn't inspire
Will be nothing but a wild fire.
Feel your scars
Some of them are shining stars.

When you kissed me, I lied.

I let you kiss me because I wanted someone to love me.  
I was selfish, I wanted to soothe my craving for attention, soft and kind love.

It’s because you’re warm and safe, I still do get the urge to trust you with love.
In fact you’re handsome while so insecure.

But I shouldn’t have kissed you, because I knew I didn’t want you but your aroma.
I chewed it and played with it to spare your feelings and to ebb my shame

but believe me, I’m happy to have made your acquaintance on that awful day that appeared on paper as perfect.
On the day when the last one I loved, introduced me to you

Poetry
      is
a speaking art

I paint my daily pain
With my heart and cane.
Tears, sorrow
for someone having no tomorrow.
A hopeless man
Striving to **** his inside pain
But in vain.
Wars, hunger and lack of rain
Men and women turned insane.
For whom the bell tolls
For you and I
I sigh
They cry
Because of your lie.

Which identity
Are you talking about
If our world is full of absurdity?
Which mask shall I wear
If your face doesn't care?
I need to know
Why don't I show
Who I am
If my birth came out of a drop of
***.
I am neither your future nor their
past
I am myself. ****!
That never cares about your
Beating drum.
I stand on my mind and
Not my ***.
My identity is  a mental entity
Faraway from
Fake power or celebrity.
I am myself.