It been a miserable day hearing her scream, her bickering has become a nuisance wishing it was a dream. 

With no reasons her unhinged mind troubles her again, he tried to seek counseling but no one to turn to except a friend. 

A twisted pathetic life in this backward society, once a place of harmony between two lovers now a life of anxiety. 

Families are torn apart like trees in the rain forest that are chopped down, and all he can do is pray as he drop to the ground.

He's just sits and wait just passing the time, while divorce courts are pack with unhappy couples as they wait in line.

So many are married and live in fear for many years, not like the nuclear families, just nothing but tears. 

Searching for whatever he can fine is there anything else, only trouble time that won't cease as he sits by himself.

Can it be a split personality or just bipolar, never mind he just received some bad news from the state controller.

He love's her more than he's ever known, because her love to him is what she has shown.

Those asian eyes those tender lips she causes his heart to melt, with her warm passionate touch that he once felt.

He now know what his eyes could not see, just knowing she's the only one he needs.

Many nights he cry as the tears stream down his face, alone without her hoping that know one would take his place.

She is the one he truly love, his mistake in his life cost him what was sent from above.

Looking at what he's done hurts him so much, acknowledging his mistakes hurt the love he once called honey bunch.

No words to articulate as I sit and think, the sky is overcast with a cool appearance, as the heat misrepresents its true nature.

No stories to tell of an unanswered love, a lost beginning when I lost my true love. Words can apply my lovingly touch to my lover's heart.

The dreams I affirm they'd live, but alone within the poet heart, No articulated words none left to give my precious little one. Silence surrounds my heart, a dark and cold ***** the size of my fist. The poets heart rhythm, lacks the harmony it once praise for the woman of his.

Engulfed in social isolation, my world slowly collapse, as the poet anticipated. Stress and mental exhaustion, it fatigues the poet mind wondering when my love will depart. 

A sound of the poets favorite music that once enticed my lover as swell within my soul. Losing the beauty and glory I once saw each day.

An inquisitive thought, can this be the poets pens my last goodwill, can there be a amber left in her heart that I may convey this love on paper?

What's this poet to do? Not able to express myself, I feel for my true love, My passion to write would surely die, lacking the emotion while concealing and protecting her once love, deep in my heart. 

Does this poet conceal the pain and heart ache, while smiling at friends, saying I'm fine, does it even matters, barricading my pain, hiding my shattered spirit, from friends due to the love I couldn't attain.

A choice in life in the heart of a poet, excusing the bitter advices from friend who want to see the end. My love for her is stronger than ever, but her decision outwit the strength of the writer, therefore it is left with the Creator of this poet.

She came in like a thief in the night, discreetly after reaching a three she put up a horrific fight.

In the wee small hours of the morning she began hugging up closely to her other half, spotted through a plyboard knot hole she took the beach then she laugh.

She forcefully wrapped herself around her man, not caring who was in her path with no remorse because she can.
Running the inhabitants off his land, not even a life jacket couldn't save their pension plan.

Slapping him around everything God has established, was gradually disappearing and just simply vanished. 

A family stranded on roof top, no one too rescue them not even a cop.
Eighteen hours on the roof of their home a couple with their son and daughter, surviving off a can of Pepsi and Top Ramen while friends of their lost there mother and father. 

The waters are calm and silent in this narration, a catastrophe witness by many is there any question. 

She leaves behind a reminder, a devastation with no arrest  made because they won't be able find her.

Who will support them? Who will back their decisions? Afraid, the people at FEMA, a political set back while over a thousand die in the hands of Katrina.

This emotional feeling is known so well, to the eyes and to the touch, yet so difficult to see, grasping it and not asking for too much.
It bring joy and happiness to a lonely heart a sense of companion, yet so elusive to the soul, barren like the grand canyon.
The mind analysing this emotion call love that's gone through a subtle transformation, or is it just a vivid of the imagination.
Can this be happening? Can't make out the distinction, the word love that makes one smile or cry. Can it be facing extinction? 
Perhaps a stealthy emotion that creeps up on one and vanishes, an insidious pleasure that poison the heart and removes your treasure.
The love that is known can be deleterious, hidden from the very people we know and love dearly but also can hurt and that can be serious.
Love is transient and not transparent, love is tangible and as beautiful as a emerald, know this emotion called love cause it will remain eternal.

A wound so deep that healing seems impossible, it would require lots of time and care if life can enable.

Nothing can't speed up this healing process, coagulation is so complex in this situation of nonsense.

Perhaps a paradox of this analogy, the sensitive mind that develops self reasoning without apology.

The need for new collagen forms increasing tensile, preventing the healing by living the pass that stays for awhile.

Deep'n with pain and inflammation, I can't stand the agony of this process I'm fill by intimidation.

Life is too short I'm living on the edge, a wound so deep, time to heal I come to acknowledge. 

The intricate process of epidermis and dermis repairs a barrier against the external environment, a scar of memories remain has a reminder of the emotional pain, sorrow and torment.

The scar that's left behind will surely keep the pessimists at bay, subsequently time would pass and I must move toward peace and happiness that's the only way.

Waking up in this dark pit with tunnels thirty feet deep, a place with no light afraid I cannot sleep.

There I remain pondering of my mistakes in life that landed me here, nowhere to turn, but towards God I fear.

Making my mends to my Creator of these terrible sin, wonder what to say or how to begin.

The Almighty is the One who forgive, He places a light at the end of a tunnel a chance that I may live.

No forgiveness for those from within, a life of guilt that remains deep in my skin.

The light to a new path will bring the happiness I once had, looking back will just make her mad.

On with this new life I finally gave up hope, only to realize that later she threw down a rope.