PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

i have to admit

i get lonely sometimes

call it escapim

into rain of black and white

i know others do

i know others do



call it the stress

just under the surface

i know if it boils over

it won't be evaporating



i need a release

to bring harmony and peace



to be perfectly truthful

in all possibilties

i'm more then content

in a maintained state of meloncholoy



my therapist said

throw my drugs out the window

they could sprout wings

and get high by themselves



the cruntch of the leaves

and this cold forsaken breeze

leaves with a lack

of everything reassuring



if i could take it away

fastforward to a different time week and day

i just pray,

the blood in me would

how to be content

when you're letting go



i trust just too much,

but what can i say?

old habits die hard

how could i live if i weren't on display?



it's in the art of knowing

and the high skill of showing

tact  and wise caution

when dealing with matters of the heart



i spilled your perfume today

it was on the glass tray

on my black wire vanity

thrused through my bones and hanging off of me



i'm a black child i am

except for when it rains

rain changes everything

so nothing's the same



the books beside my bed,

are the ones in years i've never read

i don't know what the authours said

or did



oh, but if the stress don't dissapate

what tool would i have to relate

to the rest of this broken world

and the people crying out?



maybe youll relate to me

with all the things you cannot see

darling how can you see me

when i hide me from myself?



it's a question i haven't asked in years

it could burn me to the core



there's nothing in my life

i won't know the meaning for