Notes By: A Broken Heart...

Why Does She Stay? I don't talk when she comes home, I don't kiss her goodbye, I don't comfort her when she's alone, and I'm not moved when she cries.  Yet, she doesn't go away,     why does she stay? I don't say thank you for all she does, I don't tell her I care, I don't tell her what about her I love, I'm barely there.   Still she does not sway,     why does she stay? I don't smile when she's happy, I don't show her any affection, I don't give her what she gives me, I act like she's not my selection.   And she doesn't pack a case,     why does she stay? I don't help her relax, I don't help at all, I don't come when she asks, I'm not there to catch her when she falls.   She's still here 'til this day,     but why, why does she stay? She's so much better than me, I'm so unworthy of her, she's always there for me, no matter

...this was a dark poem that was written in order to bring light to sexual abuse... Wishin' on a Star Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight. "Don't let him touch me," he pleads. He doesn't know how to tell anyone of his stepfather's evil deeds. He stays silent and keeps his cool. He doesn't say anything he knows how to act at school. The teachers don't suspect a thing, he gets good grades, he's an honor student straight A's. He does extra activities and donates all his time. No one knows what runs through his mind.  He buries himself in his work and spends long nights at the library alone. No one knows that he's afraid to go home. The place that's supposed to bring warmth and comfort, he dreads. "You bet not tell no one but God. It'll kill yo' mother," he says. So he stays quiet and takes it. His mother is at work when his stepfa

This was the first sonnet I ever wrote. It was an assignment for my creative writing class in high school. My Sonnet You sonnet, a diamond flashing around. Yet also a little annoying fly. Oh, sonnet, it is an annoying sound. The way you buzz, buzz, buzz around. Oh why? You are the hardest form of poetry. I strain my brain all day because of you. I use to think my writing came naturally. But I guess I found something I can't do. I will keep on 'cause quitting is not me. You I write because' Ms. Angelone. This sonnet is making me very angry. Writing you I have to do all alone. In Shakespeare a woman's heart you did light. A drop of blood with which a lover writes.

just writing... My Life As I sit at my desk  and think about my life I've been through trials  tribulations and strife. I'm only twenty-two  and I've already buried a parent she left this world  after she became coherent. My father's been locked up   for fifteen years  without him  my life has been full of fears. I've been through  the juvenile and adult justice system It's been hard without them  I truly miss them But my life  I brought upon myself I made my bed and slept in it  with no one else At times I wonder  what life has to offer me? Will there be any joy  in the future for me? Or will I always just be  content with life with my trials  tribulations and strife?

I wrote this in an attempt to tell a story through my poetry. I didn't know what to call this one. Untitled It was an accident, he was only trying to protect his family.  The man broke in with a gun wanting everything. He did what he had to and managed to kill him cold  and now he sits all alone in a cold cell on death row. A tear falls from his eyes,  as he stares up at the sky  and says,   "Where are you in my time of need?      I no longer feel you       walking with me." It was an accident, she was trying to please him.  Though it wasn't about sex to her, she'd submit so he feel like a man. So she did what she had to, to make him happy  and now she carries his seed   and his incurable disease.  Five minutes brought a world of pain  she cries as her health drains. "Am I really alone?   Are you really there?    Do you see me suffering?     Do you even car?" It was an accident, a total mistake  the wa

Looks Looks can be deceiving,  I know you see my smile but inside I'm grieving Looks, yes Looks can be deceiving  you think I'm happy just because my white teeth are gleaming? Love, what can I say about that?  I guess from my experience I can tell you that's not where it's at. I once was in love you know  I loved once and it nearly destroyed my soul In the beginning I was in heaven  but as time went on I was hurting 24/7 But you wouldn't be able to tell,  that my heaven has turned into hell I was stuck and hooked  and you would think in love because of the way I looked But Looks can be deceiving,  I know you see my smile but did you know I'm greiving? Looks, yes, Looks can be deceiving,  you think I'm happy just because you see my white teeth gleaming All the time I've been hurt and cried  love put me through so much that sometimes I wish I had died. I gave up my life  and my dreams of having a wife I gave u

I wrote this because I had a lot of self-esteem issues growing up. It seemed that I was the only one because I was a guy. I'd only heard about girls have issues with how they looked so I never really said anything. I became a pretty boy and focused on my looks, everything was about how I looked. I started working out and I stopped eating and I was never really comfortable with me. Half the Price of Beauty I'm hungry, but I don't want to eat I'm okay, it's just my standards I have to meet these facial supplies make my face hurt but they are the only thing that works these close feel uncomfortable to me but beauty is not what can't but can see. I got these expensive shoes and I don't even like them they say only girls think about this stuff, but so do men Half the shoes I wear are not my size, they hurt my feet but that's okay, because it's my standards I have to meet My head is burning from all the chemicals I put in it in t

In memory of a love and friend ship I thought would forever last. God in Me "It's more than being a woman you see? It's the God in me." I looked at my sister smiling as happy as can be,  wondering why she was so damn happy. Her baby's daddy stopped coming around,  everyday life beats her down. She has to wake up early,  get the kids ready,   starts the food,    gets them off to school      go to school and work       and then do hers and help them with their homework. She has to pay rent,  take them to all her doctor's appointments. But she seems to not care  that everywhere she looks, they're there. There is no rest, no breaks,  or nap to take. She cooks and cleans;  no food? What do you mean? Even when nothing's in the house  she makes sure they have food in their mouths. Even on weekends, she has an early start  and takes them to the park. Full time student, full time mother,  full time worker w

This was also an exercise that I was doing in creative writing. I was supposed to pick and picture and just put words. The picture was of my nephew in a car seat, he was sleep and smiling. A Picture of a Little Boy Gun firing Into blackness Shots firing to the left. Rocks and cigarette buds Litter the ground, As the sun peeks From the right. It is yellow, golden, white, Bright. But it is slowly fading Retreating To some safe place. This world is unsafe, Bad, Evil. So, why take the picture? ‘Cause of something that really didn’t fit Something pure, Set aside from the evil. Hope! Shinning, but shinier than shiny. Bright, but brighter than bright. It was a baby, Smiling oblivious to all around him.

This was done as a writing exercise when I was in high school. It was about my niece. A Little Girl The smile on my face is cute.             But misleading. I am not a cute little lady.             Although I like dressing up. I like getting dirty.             I know all I need to and am a goody, goody, Around people.             Inside I am curious. Rambunctious.             Mysterious.                         And mischievous. But in a good way,             it’s a good way because                         I’m                                                 A                         Girl ; )~

This was a poem I wrote when I broke up with my high school sweetheart. I didn't know that I was in love, I was too young minded and so I let her go. I let her go for so many deeper reasons that I wouldn't figure out until I was older and would live to regret it. This is... 2 Naomi When we were young,  I know I hurt you, I made mistakes. It was years ago,  and now your love has turned to hate. I'm sorry,  I know I did you wrong. What you must understand  is now we're grown. The games have to stop  either you'll be with me or you won't. I don't want to play game anymore,  either you love me or you don't. And when things go wrong  and you find yourself on the wrong side of luck who do you call  when tragedy's struck? Everytime you called, I was there,  four thousand three hundred and thirty-seven anytime minutes we talked But you needed me,  I bet you have no idea how much that cost. In the past I ran away,

Me trying to be a revolutionary when I was seventeen. At War Little girls running the streets, little boys packin' heat a war is brewin' a war has started. We act like we don't see, are we that cold hearted? I saw a woman being beat the other day, no one interfered, just looked away I saw a cop sell a kid drugs and say nothing as an old lady was mugged today two little boys were killed in a driveby slain, and cities were destroyed by a hurricane but there is no order, no one cares that thousands of people died out there we spend billions of dollars on a war no one wants to fight while in our own back yard people lose their lives billions on a war in another country, why can't we fight the war at home and let them be it's becoming hard to make an honest living now, why can't we try and lower gas prices somehow? why can't we fix our own country first? All we're doing is making another one worse we say we're trying to liberate,

I wanted to tell a tale of love  and so i did #Stuck Stuck It's a pity and I mean pitiful. She was so pretty and I mean beautiful. She didn't know she was all I thought of, I didn't know how to tell her I was in love. Her eyes alone, by themselves, could tear apart a happy home and make your heart melt. Her beauty went beyond her skin down to her soul. I mean, I couldn't begin to explain how beautiful. There is no doubt that her looks is what is told about in story books. She was the cutie people died to get. She was the beauty which launched a thousand ships. She use to be so happy, always singing a song. That is until he came alone. He was a looker, sort of light and that is what hooked her at first sight. It started real good, fun and laughter; she thought that he was her happily-ever-after. But slowly he began to tear her down, stopping her friends from coming around. The next phase you see, in some ways he attacked her self-esteem. He'd call her n

Heart v. Brain H:  You just don't understand, love's a powerful thing        nothing you can comprehend, see, you don't know the sting         or the joy that it brings when you're with that one- B:  or the pain that you feel when the relationship is done H: You don't understand, it's deeper than psychological        it's something you couldn't fathom, you're way too logical         You don't allow yourself to feel that's the problem at hand,           emotions aren't your departments so- B: hold up man.       Slow down and get a hold of yourself        stressing is bad for your health         it's my turn to talk          I'll do all the thinking and lace you up so you can walk           first off what I don't understand,            is how I control everything but the heart of a man             I think you're being too hard on him, he doesn't wanna love her,              but

What if the left and the right side of your brain spoke to one another? What would it say? What would happen if they needed to talk out a disagreement? That's the place this poem was written from. I wrote two of these poems and I feel one was a hit and one was a miss. This is my miss. Left Right Thinker  RB:  Two times two is four?           Why so? Let's explore. LB: You are so illogical            it's a shame RB: Well you are logically insane LB:  At least I know simple math guy RB:  Are you upset because I'm not afraid to ask why?             Because I like to know the facts? LB: No, I'm mad because your stupidity's an act. RB:  Not once have I called you a name LB: No, but you've still insulted me Right Brain RB: And how is that Left thinker?              Because I'm the side that's pinker?              Because I think a lot more? LB: No, no, no let's tally the score.              One:

I wrote this poem when I was seventeen. I was sitting around and thinking about the homeless people I see on the streets and I was wondering how they got there. I was wondering what made them really so different than me. And so I wrote this... Just Like Me I saw a man on the corner with one leg and a cane, his clothes were dirty, his hair was filthy; he looked borderline insane. So I drove right on past him like I usually do, and I went and worked until the day was through. On my way from work he was standing in the same place, with his muddy shoes, and tattered clothes, and very dirty face. I went to visit my mother to see what she did that day when I got there she was in the kitchen just a cookin' away. She said she was in a hurry, "they're are so many mouths to feed." She said she was cooking for the homeless and those in need. Then I remembered the guy I saw today. That dirty old man, I started speaking down on him but she stopped me wit

This was a project at school when I was in the tenth grade. We were supposed to write some type of Sun Poem in my creative writing class. Sun Poem I once felt a cool, very cold breeze, and I curled up to my body trying to preserve it's warmth but I couldn't So I opened my arms and embrace the cool cold air it was so cold as I faced the coldness and felt the pain of the cold air then it stopped I began to not be so cold instead I was warm getting warm then hot and bright I was hot and bright I was the sun

We Changed I remember in the first days,  I felt you loved me And i felt special and free my heart was not weighed down by the sadness and depression of my life all I could think about was us, and sharing my life When we were together, I was lost in a world of love and trust When we were together, I was lost in a world of just us I don't know what happened to us Was it all just fake puppy love and lust? My love, I remember when you use to care I remember a time when this was fair. but I guess it can't always be peace in paradise right? our love changed it seems like overnight try as hard as I might, I was overwhelmed by the fight to tear our love apart I let everything and everyone come in and change my heart now we argue and have regrets  back then I was in love and your heart was mines now we hurt one another by saying things we will soon regret our love use to be heaven set now you care what other people may think of our love because it use

I wrote this after a break up with one of my ex-girlfriends and high school sweetheart when I was sixteen. I was just writing in my notebook and this came out. I was hurt and I wanted to try and write it. What If? What if I started as your friend?  What if I wasn't scared? Would I still be your man? What if I didn't lie?  What if I told the truth? Would you have still said goodbye? What if I treated you right?  What if I acted like I cared? Would you be here tonight? What if I treated you better?  What if I listened to your cries? Would we still be together? What if I didn't let them come between us?  What if I was there? Would love be enough? What if I apologized?  What if I told you I love you? Would we be able to compromise? What if I picked up the phone?  What if I wiped your tears? Would I still be alone?

I don't know what I was going through when I wrote this. I was thirteen years old and trying to take a crack at rhyming... Different Perceptions  You look at me, what do you see?  A good-looking young man who speaks intelligently  A nice young man who loves to learn   who is fair and compassionate and show love and concern You see trustworthy, an upstanding, honest young man?  Someone who loves his family and has many friends? That's not what I see.  When I look in the mirror I see the complete opposite.  I don't think I look anywhere near good.  Intelligent? I grew up in the hood where education is no good  whatever, I ain't it  Understanding and loving I don't see anywhere. But I'm not trippin', I don't even care.

Still on my Edgar Allen Poe hype I tried playing with multiple sad poems. Poems of love that I thought he'd write. Last It can't get much better  as we dance together. I feel her soft skin  and take the scent of her hair in. We twirl to the music,  I think of magic. It has to be,  why else would she love me? The stars are twinkling,  the moon is sprinkling   it's light upon us.    We've been at it since dust. The song never ends,  we never awaken. Stuck, in one another's gaze,  trapped in love's maze. Love keeps us going.  We both are hoping    it will last     as we dance through the grass. This may be our last chance,  and so, we dance   to a life which was cruel and mean. We know this is something like a dream. In front of the moonlit lake  we dance but do not wake. She is no longer around.  She rests in the ground. The happy and grateful dreamer  I rest next to her. Thus this may be our last ti

I done prayed and prayed and prayed for my mother to come back to me. In a dream, in spirit anything really. I just wanted to see her face but it seem to be something that either I wasn't ready for, or just wasn't happening. And so I wrote... In a Place called Reality Although you are gone you are still with me  in my heart, my thoughts you can never leave me. Every night as I sleep, I look forward to seeing you in my dream  I go to bed with a smile, knowing I will see you in a little while. As I walk around and make it in my day to day life  I feel you inside of me, the mother, the sister, the housewife. Then as I feel in my heart the love that you have for me  I can't wait to go back to sleep again and dream about you   to smile with you and your love to see. But then it always happens, right when I awake  I have to face the same technicality. I cry as I realize that you are not really here,  in this place called reality.

I wrote this when I was watching one of Tyler Perry's play. Love & Pain I knew a woman, she was wonderful she fell in love with a man, thought it was mutual It turned out he had other girlfriends she came crying to me because she didn't understand Friendship can be love, and friendship can be pain she needs someone who will shield her from the rain There will be hard times when you will get so weak, but you can make it, if you just believe. I knew a young man, he was so special he had his priorities straight and thought life was simple His fiancee was pregnant and he couldn't wait to be a dad He soon found out it was his best friends child and was stripped of all he had Relationships can be love and relationships can be pain he needs someone who will take him out the rain Though there will be hard times when pain is all you think of remember you can make it if you don't give up on love I knew a couple, what they had was beaut

#hope Hope it is hope; that makes my heart pound, the words I want to say are nowhere to be found, the pressure weights my heart down, my soul cries out without a sound for my Queen who's lost her crown. It is hope; that keeps me searching like a hound, my heart keeps my emotions bound, as I lay here letting my love spill to the ground, I start to realize something profound, she is still with me although I don't see her around. Yes, it is hope...

When I was sixteen I was asked to write a speech for African American History month. I spent hours trying to figure out what type of angel I was going to write the speech from and what my speech was going to be about. I didn’t know if I wanted it to come from a place of anger or happiness, one of understanding or one of ignorant rage. I read a few speeches but, of course, was gravitated to the greatest speech of all. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s I have a Dream speech. It was wonderful, it was beautiful and it was just that, a dream. I decided to put a spin on Dr. Kings speech and to relate it to the times that we are currently in. This speech was rewritten as a school project in 2003 and as I look back on this time and read this speech, I realized that the “Negro” is still not free. And thus, here is the twist on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s I have a Dream speech, this is… He had a Dream (Rewrite of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I have a Dream” speech) Five score and forty years

I'd seen and heard of multiple Dear John letters and letters bashing men. But, I hadn't really heard of a letter where a man got with a woman. I hadn't seen one when a man told a woman, check it, this is my shit and you the problem so deuces, and I am keeping my money. And so I wrote... John's Letter to Jane Dear Jane,  We've been in love for so long, there was a time I thought you could do no wrong.  Wow, we've been together since high school. That's seven years and this relationship has been nothing but heartache and tears. And that ain't cool, I can't believe you tried to play me for a fool. All those times you snuck out while I was sleep. That's okay because what you sow, you reap.  The problem is I just can't see our relationship getting any better and so that's why I am writing you this letter. Seven years, wow, that's been a long time. But now that's over it's time to discuss what's yours and mine. Don

This poem was to a book I was writing called Sincerely Yours. This was the letter the little boy wrote to his mother. A Place Dear Momma,  By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I left all my things to move on to a place, where? I don't know. But I do know my things can't go.  This place I speak of you can only bring yourself and everything else will be given to those who need help. And I'll be with people who care, I hear we have a lot of family there, and I'm sure they will take care of me, and teach me how to love freely. I shall have my home amongst them. There is peace and no problems; I won't have to worry what people will think. I won't have to worry about what I'll drink or what I'll eat and there is no need to sleep. Everybody knows who everybody is and it's never sun-less; it's always shining and momma, there is no crying. There is no such thing as hurt and pain; never again will I have to see the rain. And if you ever se

Nothing Compares Why do I keep thinking about you?  am I cursed with visions of what we could have been? Growing old, just us two  flashes through my mind over and over again. I can't get you out of my head,   my soul tells me we were meant to be. Crimson tears stain the bed,  where it use to be you and me. I wish my tears would wash away the memories  but they only stain them in my mind.  They're all I see,  frozen clearly in time. I know this is insane,   believe me, I wanna let go. But my heart controls the rain,  making it impossible to get through the inferno. Hell's fire cannot compare to the heat  my tears cause when they burn the sheets. Tears as thick and red as blood  would put to shame the world's largest flood. Not even all the water in the ocean  can compare to the tears I drown in.

This was a poem I wrote when I was on my Edgar Allan Poe hype. A deteriorated mind with lapses of sanity. Old Age Now it is time I lay myself to sleep,  in my smile death creeps... It tells me not to worry,  I say, "I'll never fear." The lingering stench of death is near. I've lived a full life.  I've loved and I've lost. Time has become my greatest foe & it costs it's withered my body   and crippled my mind. It's impaired my vision  and made me blind.  What a rough few years   I've lived alone. Without my love  who was called home. And here I am  at the end. again time wins. and so, now for the last time I lay myself to sleep. in the corner of my smile  death slowly creeps.

I was sitting around wondering what I would say if I proposed to the woman of my dream. I was seventeen when I wrote it but hey, I think this is still how I feel so here is my #proposal Proposal When I look in your eyes, I see the moon and the stars in the sky.  We've been together for quiet some time,  and I feel your heart is ready and so is mine. See I don't know much but I know one thing, when we first met you'd wear my ring.  I've only got one shot to try and get this right, you are the most important person in my life. From the instant we met I knew you were the one for me, without you my sun would never set nor would I be free.  You're the oxygen to my fire, the barb to my wire  without you my heart will retire and eventually expire. So here's my shot, I hope I get this right, I want to be your husband. Will you be my wife?  And remember I'll be happy with you! I don't need the sun moon or stars in the sky  b

#whyiwrite Why I Write? why do i write?  why do i think?  why do i read?  why do i learn? i write because of my drive! why do i write?  why do i sleep?  why do i eat?  why do i drink water? i write to thrive! why do i write?  why do i breath?  why does my heart beat?  why does my blood flow? i write to stay alive! why do i write?  why is it my drive?  why do i thrive?  why am i still alive? i write to survive! in this superficial world of humanity, a mind is terrible thing to waste i write to keep my sanity...

This was a poem based on my a relationship I was in. I was feeling like Mary J. in this one lol... Tell Me Why Seven years of loyalty, seven years of faith, seven years of me, seven years of hate. I gave you everything you'd want and need, I gave you every little bit of me. What's mine was yours, what's yours was mine. But I found over time my love was blind. Seven years of faith. But your lust was fake and your love was hate. It took some time, but now, I'm fine. It's in my mind, I know that child isn't mine. For seven years you've cheated, you up and beat it and left me defeated. You took all of me and I gave you everything. Even a child that isn't mine. These tears are falling down, dripping from my heart staining the ground.  But I guess it'll all heal with time. Can you tell me why? Did he hit it from the back? Did you like it like that? I don't know. Did he lick it from the front? Something I wou

This is another poem that was written in the aspect of a shattered child. Twinkle, Twinkle Lil' Star Twinkle, twinkle little star,   how I wonder where they are. On top of the world, they're so high,   like a diamond in the sky... The music plays from afar, stomach growling he wonders where they are. They said they loved him, they said they care, they said he'd never be alone. So why aren't they there? "I need another hit,   I need another fix.    I can't do without it," she said. "Rob, I can't take it." "We got this little bastard, he's getting in the way." "Just turn on the T.V..."  "Let him go play." "We'll be right back, don't fret or fear.   You'll be okay, Daddy cares." But that was two days ago, to his stomach; a year. Nothing would prepare him for his worst fear. Mommy and Daddy won't be back. That last hit, well, that was that. A tear comes t

This was an I am Poem I was playing with. #ForbiddenDesire Forbidden Desire I am everything you want,  and nothing you need;   that whisper in your ear    that slight tingling     which gets you all wet       with sweat,        no baby, I'm not sex. Sex, you can have  Sex, you can feel   though I look solid,    baby, I'm not real.     I'm a figment of your imagination      a mirage just outtah your reach       you blink and I'm gone        before you get a chance to speak. I am what you secretly want  yet don't,   admit it,    you want     what your eyes see,      has brought down empires,       it's me,        your Forbidden Desire.

This was a duet poem between two people in a creative writing class. The book I wrote this for is called 40 days and 40 nights. The two people were brought in front of the class and given a word. They were supposed to just speak in rhymes as a warm up. The teacher called the two up and said... How? Woman: Cooking, cleaning; doing what i can  just to be a part of his world. Working, slaving; all for that man,  who i've made my world. But he doesn't understand  he sees right through me,   tears burn my skin    when he says he loves me... How? How can I love someone,  who's heart's not free? How can I love someone,  who won't care? How can I love someone,  who's never there? How? Man: Occasionally,  he cheats on you. Periodically,   he hits you. Really,  he acknowledges nothing you do. Technically,  he don't love you. So how? How can you love someone  who's not moved by your tears? How do you love anyone  yo

What goes around comes around. #Karma It Can Happen 2 You  "I love you, just tell me what you need,   I swear I'll do anything," she pleads. But he ignores her cries, he doesn't stay.  He heads to his mistresses' where he hides away. He doesn't worry about her, he doesn't care,  he knows when he decides to go home she'll still be there. She says she loves him, she'll be there,  he knew although he didn't she did care. He does it over and over again, he doesn't trip off her  until one day his mistress leaves when the doctor says, "Cancer." As he loses it all, he realizes what he has.  When he gets home she's packing her bags. But he needs her she won't leave.  She steps over him without saying excuse me. She said she loved him, and she'd be there.  But as she walks out the door he doubts that she cares. "I love you, just tell me what you need,  I swear I'll do anything,

Survival, that's what this poem is about. I thought about how my mother was sick and what I thought about how she must have felt. I thought about all she'd been through and what she had to do to survive. I thought about how I felt about my life and life in general. I thought about how I didn't care about mine was so easy to let it go and how she fought for it. She fought 'til the end. And so here is... Survive When the disease shook her brain and breaths came in a strain she didn't surrender to the light. She held on tight, ready for the long run she thinks of all she's done.  When her mother neglected them and chose her husband, she remembered what she did. She took care of all the younger and older kids. She put food in their mouths, cooked and cleaned the house She got them up and dressed for school as she struggled to go to work and school. She was twelve and all alone raising siblings while her mother was gone.  Later she had two of her own and di

This was one more of the poems I was doing in my twisted nursery rhyme slash trauma thing. Warning, this is a little on the dark side. This is called... Dream Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream. That's the song their mother would sing to tell them it's okay.  "I just made your father angry, he'd never intentionally hurt us," she'd say. "Now I'll hear not a peep, close your eyes and go to sleep, and dream. Dream, of wonderful things. Remember no one can hurt us there; we're always safe in a dream. And don't forget I'll always love you and care. No matter what I'll never leave you, just dream and I'll be there." Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream. They are awakened by the screams. Their parents yell back and forth until their voices are hoarse; then the fighting transpires.

This is one of those where are they now types of poems. The basis for this poem is true, there was a conversation with my ex about this one girl named Anita in high school. But, I think everyone had an Anita at their high school. With that said (I hope she never reads this and realize its fictional kinda) I present... Anita I once knew a girl, Anita was her name. She had dreams of money, power and fame. Every chance she got she showed she was talented. When she tried out for cheerleading she was so confident. She got what she wanted by looks alone, so why did she need cheerleading or anyone else? She could make it on her own. She had a beautiful smile with real deep dimples, she thought she was a goddess and life was simple. Acting, singing, dancing; she tried it all. Whether or not she was any good at it, she felt it was her call. She thought she was a Princess, a Beauty Queen. But life got rough when she turned eighteen.  Her mother up and left; moved away. But Anita had a

#drugs Drugs I need help,  I'm feining for you    this crystal in my veins    just won't do. I slammed heroin  it brought me down   the same way it did    the night you left town. I tried to duplicate  my feelings for you   but this acid in my system    just won't do.  I smoked a quarter ounce of weed  in just a day   so I could remember     your way. Damn it,  I need you   this ecstasy,    it just won't do. You were a drug in itself,  a high I'm chasing   and I'll find my high again    even if I have to O.D.

This is one of them it's hard to say goodbye poems. I began thinking back at all the people I should have said goodbye too and their exits in my life. Like, if I had told my ex-girlfriend goodbye then she wouldn't have gotten hurt. If I had told her goodbye then maybe we'd still be friends or at most together. Same with some friendships I've had to end. If I had left and bowed out gracefully then we'd still at least be cordial. I thought with the passage of time that I started saying goodbye. I figured though saying goodbye would hurt it was the lease painful. So, in the spirit of goodbyes here is... Goodbye I've never told anyone goodbye my mom died and I still hold her inside I can't bring myself to part with her memory even at high tide when the storm beats at my door tears run down my face goodbye is something I can't say something I can't face so when the time comes for someone to leave I just nod my head and sile

There has been so many times in my relationships when I felt like someone was holding something in. It was like they didn't want to tell me something or they were acting cold all of a sudden. I've never understood why though it's been explained to me. It's been explained as a cry for my attention because the attention I was giving was not enough. I wrote this poem as part of a project I was doing called forty days and forty nights. It was a love story and it was one of the poems that the main character wrote in creative writing. I hope you enjoy... When She Pushed Me Away I should have saw it coming when she pushed me away it all happened after Christmas day She spread her legs and let someone else in she caught a disease from another man She lied to me with the greatest of ease she told me nothing about it, just said she loved me And love kept me stupid, it clouded my mind Love kept me quiet and my heart blind Now, my lover's gone, she died wi

#thebrokenhearted A Broken Heart I am nothing you want  yet, what you need.   I am a wet pillow    I am a stained cheek     I am who you left at home      to be with someone else       I am that one        who places you above thyself. I am neglect  empty and hollow inside   It really hurts    loving a lie     In the same bed      I watch you sleep       a million miles        away from me I am the silence  that you hear   when you're all alone    with no one there.     I am loneliness      which will never depart.       I am;        A Broken Heart

I had an idea that I would try and write a series of poems that spoke to children in dangerous situations. This one was one of a series within that series where I use old nursery rhymes. I've been told that they are dark in nature because of the seriousness they deal with. I never wanted to corrupt these nursery rhymes, but still it happened. The reason nursery rhymes were incorporated into these poems were because I wanted to show the bad side of these things. By that I mean, these songs are not happy for everyone. Sometimes they bring a lot of pain so I used that. I used it because I felt it was catchy and easier to express how a child could be traumatized. Like because of the way I was treated in my aunty's home whenever I smell her perfume and she is not in my immediate vision, my heart starts racing. I know it's crazy but it happens. I can be in a store and someone smells like her and I get scared, my heart starts beating fast and I start looking around. So, that was t

One day I was at work thinking about that special someone. I wanted to write another love poem, just to make sure the first one was a mistake. This one I decided to make more personal than anything. I wanted it to be a poem where I was talking and telling someone what I felt. I wanted it to be a love poem from me to the one that I loved. And so I wrote... Lord Please When I was five,   I asked God for a friend. Instead, he sent me an enemy   and said he'd be the best friend to me. When I was nine,   I prayed for a video game. He sent me a book,   and said it'd be worth a second look. When I was twelve,   I wished I could have a super power. God gave me knowledge   and said, "You'll find your power in college." When I was seventeen,   I pleaded for my mother's life. But he took her away from me,   and said, "Her suffering for your happiness is how it must be." When I was twenty-one,   faith dwindling, I prayed fo

This is my attempt of telling a sad love story through a poem. I read that the saddest thing in the world is the death of a young lover, told by a lover's heart. It is very sad when our youth die. But, the saddest part of it, is the survivors. To see the one that was left behind is always the sad and to me the saddest thing one would have to read about. I've taken a little from both Edgar Allan Poe and Shakespear's Romeo & Juliet. And of course since I love Ne-Yo Russian Roulette helped for this. So, with Edgar Allan Poe and Ne-Yo in mind, I introduce to you... Lover's Roulette In the murky darkness on insanity's brink, he stares without seeing and takes a drink. The liquid burns as it goes down, he has a gun at his temple now. There are six rounds, he only needed one to do the trick. He pulls the trigger and there's a loud dry click. He picks up the glass and takes another sip. Memories fade as a tear drips. He can still smell her in the air he can s

While thinking about confessions, I came up with this poem. I was trying to be the angel and the devil on my shoulder. I was trying to see if I was able to, I guess be a priest. I was trying to see if I would be able to use scripture in a way that rhymed and combated all the negativity. So, I set it in a catholic church and started... Confessions The door opens with cautious discretion.   "Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been eight years since my last confession. I haven't been feeling myself and I've fallen out of love with my wife. No longer am I interested in my married life. I felt because she was pregnant my hand was forced, but now that our child is grown, I think I want a divorce. I do love her but I met someone else and it's time I go. It's a sin father I know, but I'm no saint or angel. I'm human, I'm weak and I was born in sin. Now father tell me, what do you recommend?" "I tell you in your heart sin does lurk.