The more things change The more I feel strange The times on my mind Are hard to find real But somehow still remains

Just a machine yet theres still a bad heart left nested into nothing, beating to a false dream Coincidences in the colors but not from one to another’s We are all a child at one point...

Add new poem for what, this world is fucked for every word the pencil should b… to paper not through a blogging lifeless ha…

another caffeinated week and I’m stuck wandering in my dreams a… feeling so damn beat yet all I can do is smile whats going out of style

Write a poem, just another one, Another minute Another death, an unappreciated br… Just the two of us, my heart, your…

To be a poet. Is it knowing self-worth? If that is truly something, It wasn’t given at birth. Words are sharp, they cut like kni…

Where does one start his journey t… If a picture is worth a thousand, nowadays in public housing, it would only say, “In God We Tr… But it is never enough,

i see past the horizon, beyond the… If people only knew how fast a min… These blue eyes see past grey skie…

Stowaways, each and every one of u… All in an accident, A collection of particle dust There’s an infinity to be observed Where no sound is heard

Waves come and go while the tides forever roll clocks turn, and the sun will set Always under the weather But I’m not ready yet

why do we feel pain from the tips of our limbs to the stem of our brain do we all hurt the same as the blood seeps from a vein

Shadows, A sad man’s reflection all to hide his complexion you can try to run or hide but your shadow is your dark side