I've soaked my pen with wordplay,
Searching more lines to make my way,
If i don't have all it takes to be refine,
Then how far will i progress and fine?

Searching more lines to make my way,
In the spiritual path of all literary bay,
Demands a still silence of poet's gray,
Either day or night, he writes or say.

If i don't have all it takes to be refine,
Those readings may loose and deline,
Mostly, i study between five or nine,
Praying for heavenly hand of divine.

I’ve been living double lives for so many years
Bringing all of my loved ones slowly to tears,
So the next chapter of my life dawning now nears,
I will take the time to voice a few of my fears.

For too long I have dreamt of having real success,
I have given my all my soul and tried my very best,
So whilst striving for then the few, the many and the rest,
I have carried our ideals to the waves' highest crest.

Like a lump in the throat,
Or a tightly wound knot.
A life's tune missing a note,
Yet not one I forgot.

Like a brick filled bag,
Adding weight everyday.
A burdensome swag,
That just won't go away.

Yet on sunnier days,
When warmth dulls the pain.
I make a pact, show pain the door.
My head held high once again.

And when I start on my joyful train,
My gloomy resolve begins to sway.
Happiness becomes my ultimate gain,
to improve my mood more each day.

Pen and ink are my swords
On a green tablet
To cut the chaff and wheat for harvest
When they are ripe.
Now, the fisherman has launched his net
To catch bountiful fishes in the ocean
But I’m a fish which doesn’t like to live in water
If I live on land, I’ll die
Where should I go?

After showing me the difference
between being stupid at love
and being stupid in love,

I realized I didn't want anything from you,
just everything with you.

Once upon a time,
A lowly mortal was I
With no other purpose than that
Until the day I was bitten by a bat

Woken by the night, skin glowing white
Translucent eyes that caused quite a fright
Talons that twisted, fangs that were gifted
A sanguine surprise for the rejected

Alone in my reflection
A single coffin lifted
Mother's misfit by design
Eternal life now mine

The day that they first met,
The most beautiful girl ever,
In poised contemplation,
Whose energy just cried,
Somebody please love me,
For who I really truly am,
And not the surface you see.
And a broken hearted hero,
Who had always dreamed,
Of a pure and true real love,
Between two unique souls.
Through subtle divine energy,
Their sublime souls touched,
And their essences connected.
And from that sunny day on.
They pursued their ideals,
And the inspirational energy,

Try as thee most persuasive person might,
he/him, she/her,
they, them... can never wean
yours truly always objected
being told when to bathe/shower
particularly when puberty
found yours truly a tween
and my mother (deceased eighteen
plus years - sess her bowl),
she exerted authority

Poetry is a game of skill, a graceful art
That uses words with which to weave its heart;
A craft to make the silent sing and start
A dialogue of beauty's innermost part.

The language of the Pen may take the stage,
To heartfelt tears or happy laughter bring;
To make us think, to laugh, or to engage
Our minds and souls in sweet, poetic ring.

The truth of words can make us stand in awe;
To show the beauty of an artist's hand;
To speak of all the wonders that we saw,
And of the love that we can barely stand.

Hello anxiety, my friend and foe stirring up fires inside of me,

The one who protects, but also keeps you stuck in your perceived defects,

Always quick to label others rejects, while losing out on what the brain expects,

Foundation built in fear, but thin walls allow in noises you don't want to hear,

Echoes ring out through this cavity, large hollow space that defy gravity.

You force us to avoid, darkening an already pitch black void,

Lock people in inhibition, paralyze them when making any decision,