A Poem Why must I sit with my legs closed? Why, if I don’t, is it considered an open invitation? Why must my skirt be long and my shirt be high? Why is my body a sexual object? Why may I not complain about these incessant cramps? Why am I not allowed to … More Woman
Poetry And it’s the eyes The eyes, he laments They beg forgiveness But never repent Eyes that shine The halo of an angel The copper of the dawn Entraps you in its cages. The sun then sets The light crumbles The night so unexpected In which you fumble The eye, the … More The eyes, the eyes.
I have never suffered Never felt true pain So, all these sad words All seem in vain My heart has never broken By the one whom I love I’ve never been distraught My life never tough True art, of course Seems coated in tears People only listen When sudden death is near Can a … More In Vain.
Do you feel us drifting apart – barricaded by differing views? You do not wish to change the world because you fear you cannot. Whereas my passion to do so consumes me. Now you loathe me because of your love for me. I can see the disbelief in your eyes. How could we spawn … More Offspring.
It’s a lie, of course. This thing we call love. Feeble emotion, all bunched up. Tie and attach yourself to another. Seconds, minutes, years to suffer. Unrequited love; the ultimate defeat Swearing off another lover to ever meet Never again! Your brow thick with sweat Eyes blurred with tears, body sick with fret. Then … More Lover
And these days, you seem so sad This world has turned you incredibly mad Your veins were filled with stardust and gold Doing whatever you pleased whilst so bright and bold I know these people with their bitter hate Cripples your soul in such a state Exhausted and crushed it makes you fight They … More King.
What if we never talk about literature Or the meaning of life What if we only stick to small talk And safe conversation What if we never weep about our parents Or howl at the moon What if we never discover galaxies And the stars that fill our souls What if we never get drunk … More Our love is not worthy of poetry.
How I wish I lived by the sea Oh I long to roam so free Awoken in the morn by the dawn brought waves Immersed by the rigid cliffs and hollow caves. Never a city sound to be heard Nature’s creatures are not stirred The sky a canvas of crimson and blue The day … More By the sea.
Physical appearance means so little. To me at least. I want passion. I want you to be overcome by your love for novels and film; for music and poetry; for human rights and protests thereof. I want your soul to glow; to emanate from your body and envelop everyone around you. I want you to … More Glow.
Why does the sky cry Drenching the soil with her tears Why does the sky groan Deafening our ears with her pain Why does the sky flash with rage Blinding our eyes with her wrath Perhaps it is because we, Sick, twisted, selfish mankind Tear at the earth’s flesh, Stick concrete in her skin, Choke … More “Why does the sky cry?”