You are the poem
That I dream to write
But fail to grasp
Each time
Does the moon feel lonely
When it is all alone
Because nobody is awake
To see it?
A No.2 pencil and a dream can take you anywhere.
Joyce Meyer
Maybe Icarus had the right idea
That it's okay to burn
For temporary bliss
All I need is a kiss
Cause we're already a match
And I'm soaked to the bone
With kerosene
I cant help but feel
That i deserve better
Or at the least
I deserve more
Than this
I grew up hoping
I was special
But you made me believe
It was true
these words are my burden
my suffering
my tears
these words are my heartbreak
and the pain of all my years
these poems are my hardships
my brokeness
my pain
these poems are what I write
to make it go away
The rising storm
And the tumultuous sea
Of gray and green
Cannot be mightier
Than our love
And the sun
How cute, he got me roses
As if plants could fix this mess
The paleness of the petals
Are completely meaningless.
But still, he bought me flowers
I guess that means he cares
But it takes a little more than that
To make this all seem fair.