What I held inside,
couldn't slash,
just a butter knife,
to all their storms.

Butterfly wings open wide,
potato that has been mashed,
A man grieves his dead wife
amongst the hungry worms.

Locusts, seemingly fly,
never settle for a clash
of a storm that settles,
Only a child senses the harm.

I wish I could sleep
but I ache,
on all sides,
and on my back,
I see the haunting
that you bring me
And the refusal,
of disappearing.
And a silent tease,
in a blackly sight
of a sudden freezing,
of a jumper's fleece.
A demon's wishes,
of remembrance
of tanned flesh,
and daily blesses,
The snake that hisses
has now became me.

A shadow has stalked my own,
ever since the day I've grown,
I once cared of the ones I held,
but now I fall & all alone.
This burning script,
won't out-last the trees,
which evolve over me,
smother all baby demons,
born just like me,
this is a wishful plea.

Sincere honesty of births,
swagger to one's worth.
****** in the face of a mirror,
wishing for daggers of beauty,
that could be Prince Dashing
or the one called Cinderella.

The hour of death,
comes with no wish
for another breath
could not tease,
a certain boy.
or a girl,
no strawberry
twirl.

Repeated days of such ground-hog
keep the burning of these logs,
The arts of attraction leaves no exempt
and nightmarish are barking dogs.

Hypnotizing beauty
hides ugliness inside,
while the ugly,
are of angels weeping.

Hide your venom to shame,
while the misunderstood
are guilty of  sick pride
upon knocks of hollow wood

Place another slice of timber,
into the fires you hinder,
You judge the flesh only
no such true prettiness

Skin is lust and love,
in hollow shaped hands,
raining so grimly above,
true fake hearts,
glamorously
they always sink
in the quick-sand,
while Angels,
surf upon land.

The scarecrow's
straw blows
away to nearby
watching crows,
wishing to ravish
all the corn.
Smart little evil
birds,
watch with
intention
and step up quietly
to peck out his eyes.

Blackened are the skies
unlike dreamy summer days,
To forgive is to forget,
and sign upon a gift.

Its funny how as adults,
we can pick forever the flaws......
None of us can cast the first stone,
we were all born to be shattered bone.

A dream comes as does the demon,
we are so quick with index finger.
Wisdom is earnt through years we learnt,
and pain will ease the more that we hurt.