Looking at the ground,
She sees more beauty
Than she ever could have
If she had looked up.

Eyes trained on her on her toes,
She understands,
Beauty is in the person
Who is seeing.

And her beauty
Is just a little
Different
Than everyone else's.

Tonight,
There is no love here.
The honey ***,
Once overflowing,
Is full of flies.
I am paper-thin.
I will burn easily.
My teeth aren’t as white as they once were.
My eyes don’t sparkle.
I am blue and purple
And jagged.
I am cold to the touch.
My eyes sting
With cigarette smoke.
My tongue,
With its sandpaper softness,
Will not grace your skin tonight.
Let the black sheets of my bed
Shroud me from moonlight and
The warmth of your hands.
Maybe in the morning
It will be better.
Maybe in the morning
I’ll forget that once
I loved you.
Maybe I’m just a little bit sour.

be compassionate about what you like
for it is the best thing that you could ever had
rather than complaining or doing nothing at all.

i taught myself with books to read,
evaluate things of what life is all about.
a bucket to discover & explore.
watching inspirational,
documentary movies
that made us think deeply
and realize to it.
like there is a lot to be curious
of what is inside there.
we are once a witness
of unresolved matters,
seeing a ****** one hell.
and yet we are still blind
for so many reasons
to be feared
of a change
that's impossible
to happen.
& so we need us
to change for
a better improvement
of this crying Earthly
that still calling for a change.

Our hearts,
So much like trees
The heart dies a slow death
Each hope,
A leaf
They all blow away,
One by one
Till nothing is left

What else generates laughs
It's what comes of sadness,
It would be funny
If it were not sad.

What is most impressive
It's what everyone already knows,
It would be funny
If it were not sad.

What most distresses people
Are the consequences of love,
It would be funny
If it were not sad.

What generates more income for poets
Are the tragedies reports
Plucking joy of sad people,
It would be funny
If it were not a Poem.