Work on me,walk with me and find things I lost long ago Always in my heart,for you I will rinse my tears Toil on you,stand with you and find things you lost long ago Forever in your heart,for me you will raise your pain If you try you will not cry If you must cry let it be birth tears because if I go this house ceases to be your home and your heart falls on things you don’t know If I try I will feel no pain If I must feel pain let it be birth pains because if you go this house ceases to be my home and my heart falls on things I don’t know.
I am an easy going person who loves poetry and music,love making new friends and experiencing different cultures and I respect people's decisions and emotions as long as they respect mine am an african and i believe everything i can,i am yearning,learning and earning knowledge in search of peace and wisdom and when i write is when i feel alright.This poems and pages are dedicated to my family, friends, and anyone that appreciates life's joys. I hope these pages make you smile, reminisce, and perhaps shed a tear.
You ask about these tears These tears I cry…. Rolling down my face With every heave and sigh For a dying world Drowning in misery And hate ……These tears I cry For the lonely, The dying and The socially displaced
Behind your face was cleaver releasing past poem. The sensual milk flows from the palm into your lake. Grieving for the torn wings of pink light. Cruising on thighs with eyes closed death utters a shriek. The eternal flame closes
there’s a song in my heart that needs to be sung in union with friends a bit combersome fallen angelic creatures with vast different features create a whole inside flirting with fire blowing it up to its fullest of desire
Its a different kind of heartache Where tears dont flow, Its a different kind of pain Which people dont choose to show, Its the thing which people dont understand Untill they stand at our place. They keep judging us Without
When logic and intuition stood on edge of time, sugar was dancing on the salt lake. I would not see the torn book between retreat and assault. I was reining in the new moon. In a night raid, five peacocks