Feed your Mind

They like to say, eyes are windows to the soul.
You say you see me, but your eyes are always closed.
You open your arms, with a closed heart.
I'm a used machine, with broken parts.

Would you seek me out, if I never prepared this verse.
I'm another face in the crowd, so I wear this hurt.
There’s no rise no fall, I ain't there to be heard.
So I expose my all & share through my words.

A Poet's life shared through chosen words.
To open eyes, of those who don't know their world.
To share my hope, my goals, my dreams.
To expose my all, to those who read.

A Poet...my POETRY is me

A bleeding heart, pumping all the wrong way
Leaving marks, on a heart which can't coordinate
Beats of blood, which leak my love,
as deceit becomes, your bodies complete make up.

A wild fire burning, burning deep within my soul.

Can honestly say I've never fully understood any woman, that has lived.
What was true yesterday, becomes tomorrows big fib.
I buy footwear of all sizes, but the shoes never seem to fit.
I deduct happiness with a woman, is knowing your living in ignorant bliss.

A dozen cracks, chipped away at my only one, once solid heart.
A hundred questions, yet you give me only the one answer.
A thousand tears, all expected to be dried by this one tissue.
Millions of girls, so why did I pick the one, who never saw me as the one?

My star that twinkles, my moon that shines.
I start a day thinking of you, because your not my usual type.
Part attitude, still sweet. Street wise, with beauty past skin.
My heart skips beats, and my eyes refuse to blink.

I...I..I ask questions for an answer, I'm not sure if I want to hear
I...I..I stutter as I realise you are death, except for my voice in you ear.
I ask if I, could be the guy, to to wake up by your side, to keep you company on lonely night.
I have no idea of her reply, as her words crumbled, as she stared me in my eyes.

I reach for the skies, always aim too high in life.

I ask the question, knowing what the answer would be.

A young girl lost, on the street wandering, wondering what could have been.
A young girl lost, lays her head never to sleep, though all she can see is her dreams.
A young girl lost, fulfilling fantasies, in a shitty apartment.
A young girl lost, short skirt, tight top, six inch hills, part of the marketing.
A young girl lost, wish she had something other to sell, then her body.
A young girl lost, looking for help in this hell, where sex is the only commodity.
A young girl lost, all because she once tried him, and thought it was love.
A young girl lost, who all days lusts for the sweet touch, to be found in her drug.

Tread your path, but know it's the one you choose.
Paths may cross, but all paths are meant to be walked alone.
So don't waste the walk, enjoy the scenery, as you make your path your own.
Because eventually, there is only one place every path will go.

My heart on a string,  yet I'm still asking now if I'll make the cut.