There was a time where time did move slowly calculated differently~
Did he know?
Turning her away
Catching each gaze
Allowing to stare
Did he care?
Holding her heart
Tore it apart
Did he cry?
Knowing his lie
Would crush her
Can he live?
Give back to her
Parts he broke
Or will he choke?
As he cries gasping for air
Knowing just how little he cared
Will he recognize?
His selfish condition
Serving him first
Will he lie?
Compensating for his
Will he come clean?
Tell the truth openly
Hoping his loss and his story
Will teach reach others like him
Or Will he fester in disdain?
Always thinking he is above
He is right
Never learning heartless cold
Slowly as he takes his lies to his death as he grows old.
Or can he find courage?
Knock on her door
Eyes down looking at the floor
Asking forgiveness for the trouble he caused, the pain he unleashed
Finding each word as they spill forth from his mouth…. Freeing his soul
Bringing healing to her finally made whole
Did he know?
Not for Reproduction~
I write many poetic pieces some beautiful… But I’m truly a cynical poet
I hope you can read this and gain its truth and remember that death can happen in youth. Enjoy.
~Breath Suffocate Untimely Death~
Suffocating upon needs that are often forgotten losing importance~
Open that window let the outside in~
The world we’ve been born into our earned sin~
Sent to reside foolish rules often broken we hide despise ….hypocrites …are we? living within, believing without seeing thoughts clouded over with doubt~
Knowing mask shields unspoken thoughts of fear rejection, desire for perfection~
Casual communication God help please, oh please can you repeat that sentence again, go on say that again, and again. It’s repetitive resound stealing time never gaining it back, stolen suffocating spit it out quickly speech just runs on, is there ever an end into this needles repetition yet again and again~
Suffocating, choking refusing to see hide between tasks between lies wearing masks, craving the spotlight that place, face in lights flashing brightly above others, laughing fake, fifteen minutes of fame forgetting the game is debilitating yet feeling the importance the sickening strain~
Feeling like winning first place in a fifth grade science fair feeling proud having others stare at your perfect work your well thought masterpiece
Still searching for that aching relief~
Sit right there suffocating, breathe just breathe, breathe that breath suck it in trying secretly all the while unsure where to begin~
Pass time with confidence those we propagate later to only negate, even family often we hate yet smile into that camera dance that dance, talk that talk, walk that walk robbing yourself, suffocate go on hold that breath the way all this is going all these dreams unfulfilled goals diminished work so unfinished and breathing it in won’t bring back the breath in the end all that’s left that elusive breath searching for air often life is completely unfair~
Crave always craving cunning tongue spews forth truth that are truly lies, the soul bleeds and cries loudly inside, keep that smile, smile really big take that picture hold that moment elegant style, ah yes elegant style that picture so perfect that fake ass smile~
That image that picture of holding our breath suffocating, breathe, don’t breathe instead we leave pieces, scattered in space knowing all the while about that untimely place it suffocates negates~
Gasp try to breathe Instead hold that breath because in this life the one thing that is certain none will escape the beautiful yet pitiful untimely death. Death, we all die can’t you see this with your mortal eye? Is there such thing as a timely death? No. Either way breathe your last breath. So suffocate hold your breath that breath sucking in and hold tight but you can never win the fight~
Suffocating in the shadow of hate together a dance eternal as two souls mate~
Still evermore mediate, complicate, hate is exactly that which often suffocates you, me all that we see death awaits in each corner, ending breath so breathe breath, suck it in but you will not win born to die blind eyes see the heaven clatters and hell shakes, no way to determine the in or out pray unto God your soul is tried true otherwise the devil waits upon you~
A fashion and mold so uniquely you so breathe go on and breathe all the while suffocating forgetting the origin of divinity of which we were born~
Sent straight from heaven down to this earth, the Creator God that gave breath allowed our birth, still suffocate feel that nothing left suffocated by the shackles of this existence the very creation that was executed flawlessly or so thought but was it in blood that we were bought?~
A pawn in a game of chess you see, the stadium of gods watch and wait to reach for their pawn to take, and before we go to the creator that made you, me, will you breathe your last breath or suffocate~
The question remains did you live your life in love or live life in vain? Very simply one can hate scratching cursing as they suffocate. Truly can you breathe?~
Wind enticing leaves blowing the flowers slightly bending but to feel that breeze, its unseen force blowing touching the skin and caressing our hair ah yes the wind so wild and free ever reminding of the unseen breath that nature does take yet not enough do we stop for a brake to enjoy the mysterious breeze created by the forces of nature still suffocate, clearly not seen that we’re not breathing we suffocate did you receive that moment as the wind whisked by, or did you gasp choke allowing breath a foreboding goodbye? Flooded ever breaking crashing suffocating slowly stealing each breath it was bought never ours to begin, it was borrowed from God and elements unknown yet meet the supreme being who sits on the throne so breathe as you suffocate letting go, your last breath as you finalize your inevitable untimely death~
Not For Reproduction~
Traveling through constellation
Transcending the normality
Searching for the landing
This life is unexpected
I am a visitor
I visited before
Did I leave something
Important to remember
My past life?
How many times did I incarnate?
It’s my old soul or is it?
Yes, it’s what will make me whole , the pieces of my old soul scattered all about,
Collecting each piece without doubt that lessons learned often seer the scrapes and wounds will burn.
There I was
I know you
You’re a really old friend
Never really growing old
These bits and pieces of old souls
But it’s the lessons we learned that we all now bare