Heart

Here I stand heart in hand

Crying out to all the land

Weeping for lost happiness

Times of laughter times of bliss




Here I stand knife in hand

Blood sprays forth drops touch the land

Weeping eyes cry the last tear

My time of dying is so near

Anger, Fear, Weakness

Violent anger ripples like fire

Driven by fear

Caused by weakness

The anger boils through my veins

Sitting there insides aflame

Till nothing remains

The fear is chased by the fiery flames

Terrified and looking for someone to blame

I run tears falling screaming hatefully my name

The weakness falls in pieces drowned in tears of weeping flames

Crumbled to worthless pieces drenched in self-hate

Not a shred of hope remains

There I lie broken

With my fear, weakness and anger pains 

Bleeding out till no worthlessness remains 

The Miracle Worker

Love …..

It lets you know your alive.

It pulls you out of the boring struggle of day to day life

And gives you a kick up the pants we so often require
 

It makes us feel like we are worth some thing to some one

And gives us not only a reason to get up in the morning

But one to be the best darn human you bloody well can be

Love

It works Miracles

Your love...

Love

Thinking of her beautiful face brightens up my day

Brings me out of my sadness and gives me a reason to go on.

She gives me drive, purpose in this cold world.

The light at the end of the tunnel and the stars reflected in my eyes.

Every day I fight, fight through each day to see you

And every time I leave you it is a struggle but I only

Have to look to the next day , the next time, our next meeting

And the sun comes back out from behind the clouds.

Love …

Your love

Is gold

She paints ...

Hello again.

this is a sweet poem i saw on face book. it has so much meaning and i can relate to it strongly so i thought i must share it with you all.

this isnt my work

but who ever's it is is a truely great poet

 

Enjoy

 

She paints a pretty picture

but this picture has a twist

you see.. her paintbrush is a razor


and her canvas is her wrist

she paints her pretty picture
...

in a color thats blood red

while using her sharp painbrush

she ends up finally dead

her pretty pictures fading

quite slowly on her arm

the blood is not racing through her

she can no longer do harm

she painted her pretty picture

but her picture had a twist

you see her mind was the razor

and her heart was just her wrist

The saddness: i fall

Hey internet. I have returned.

This isnt so much of a poem such some weird poem like combination of opinion and a mix of sad depressing emotions. I will still not be posting too regularly as i still have alot of problems i am stilll trying to fix.
Any how i hope you like it.

Sigh.
I hate emotions
Im always so down :(
Always sad
Every day i have a huge preasure on my sholders
crushing me
Dragging me back
Trapping me
Every day is a struggle as i fight not to fail
Fight not to fall
But every day i crumble
Every day i Do fail
I Do Fall

Falling deeper into that dark pit that is sadness
im on the edge of it fingers gripping the crumbling rock
holding on to all i love dearly but my stregnth is failing.

Like a huge stone monument that stands tall
even the strongest of substances can be .
will be worn down and eventualy fall to the destruction of the
all mighty sea

The all mighty saddness

I fall