This is not for the light hearted. read at your own risk.

Free

What is truly pure?
Is it a spring bud
or flowing water so near
Or maybe your own blood?

what is so clean?
The house of a maid
A floor so shiny you can be seen
Or the mirror when you wipe off the blade?

What is sickness?
When the fever inside is lit
When your body is weakness
Or when your stinging throat comes from a toilet?

What it getting better?
The meds on a doctors shelf
Maybe your boyfriends loving letter
Or the power you feel from starving yourself?

What is being hurt?
Is it an old one naturally dying
Is it a criminal going to court
Or a woman, raped and left crying?

What is being free?
Is it looking at the clear blue sky
Is it dreaming of what you want to be
Or is it hating yourself to suicide?

Tombstone

What you see is a demons way
It is not that which you crave
but it is where you will stay

It is not that which you crave
But it is where you will stay
Buried six feet deep, in a grave

But it is where you will stay
buried six feet deep, in a grave
where your heart is so suppressed to say

buried six feet deep, in a grave
where your heart is so supressed to say
I am not who you should save

Where your heart is so suppressed to say
I am not who you should save
What you see is a demons way

i am not who you should save
What you see is a Demons way
it is not that which you crave
but it is where you will stay

i would look forward to more of your words. Have you any other writings like this?

wow... i'm not usually struck speachless... great poem. Something you should consider publishing in my opinion.

absolutly brilliant. I revel in that you can relay the emotion through your words so well. Thx

just another piece of writen word. Let me know your opinion, good or bad, it is appriciated.

DARK LOVE

A lovely single rose in a meadow;
moonlight makes its beauty unbearable;
A light... sprinkle down the petals;
you walk a little closer...

So elusive is the beauty;
so that like your lover;
the breeze across your skin;
the sounding of their heartbeat;
its so peaceful...

That your lovers face comes back;
so distorted by your tears;
that you finally see it clearly;
the rose, like their love, is black.

If you have anything to say then don't be shy. I'm open to any kind of comment. Thx Chris

To Be A Poet

Poetry is simplistic
It is relaxation in its ultimate place
It is temptation in the same space
Thus is poetic

It has restriction however
Such as the inability to judge or be prejudice
It is unable to show the outside, only what is truly in you
Is ti bad, never

The words on paper
Give wisdom beyond years
Weather black, white, him, or her
It helps us get past our fear

It is emotion solid
It is thoughts flowing
It is maturity in our hearts
It is the burning pain of truth, just knowing

It is our last peace
It is our last pain
It is our final thought
Before the love of life makes us insane

Looking at many... outside
Never give a double take
Do you see turmoil inside?
I guess not, you don't know how to quit bein' fake

I mean not to be rude
I hate pain and hurt
But personality isn't a mood
Just look to my eyes; quiet but intensly alert

Even those who sit around me
The pretty girl straight ahead
I wonder if she can see
My life or the path i've led

But i guess the biggest difference is
Is that you don't know it
The knotted feelings and racing thoughts
What it means, to be a poet