I let you trace out my heart
in dotted lines
When I asked why you didn't
colour it?...
You said it was in black & white

And now that you're gone,
my tears are doing their best ,
going through the dots ,
resurrecting the picture

my blood is flowing through,
providing the colour

Perhaps you made me an artist
Cause
Whenever I'm asked about the rough texture,the cracks,the fadings....
My answer is always....MOSAIC...

My heart is in my pocket
I keep it there
It’s almost safe
But there are pick pockets
Everywhere
On every street
At ever turn
They are quick
They are sleek
They steal hearts
with slight of hand
And magic dust
Then disappear
And leave you
heartless
And torn
battle weary
And worn

There is a dearth
Of good conversation around here
A lack of humor
A tumor
growing steadily
Can we cure it
Without insult?

Clarity is everything
When you can see clearly
When you can’t
It is simply a word
Tumbling around on someone else’s
Tongue

Promises kept
Promises broken
Silence so loud
Words left unspoken

Every thing's over
Before it's begun
Why am I lonely
If you were the one

You said goodbye
With a look in your eyes
Yet the words that you spoke
Were nothing but lies

You spoke of forever
Happy endings to be
But the story you told
Was pure fantasy

Misery, my company
My world dressed in gray
Steady rain of sorrow
The sun has gone away

Silence so loud
Words left unspoken
No promises kept
My heart is just broken

Poetry is a gift
Unwrap carefully
The contents are exposed
Bringing tears to the eyes
Or perhaps a smile
What one accepts
Another refuses
The giver is vulnerable
Giving openly of themselves