roar #7

I am someone

I walked past a dead face

even though the person was alive

I saw my eyes in the mirror

and cried at the sight

I looked at a person

I didnt know

and I met a friend

I got heads to turn

when I walked past

I learned a lot about myself

when I lost a new friend

I cried every tear in my body

when I thought about love

I got hit bad

then got back in the ring

I climbed a mountain of rocks

and saw an eagle fly over- head

I heard terrible things about myself

when no one thought I was listening

I realized I was strong

when I didn¹t cry when it hurt

I found out who I was

when I was with someone else

I thought I was lost forever

when a friend found me

I held a life in my hand

and it was my own

I was a pawn in someone else's game

so I surrendered to a brook

I walked the fine line between surviving

and not wanting to survive

I still am

I am someone

roar #5

My garden in spring is GRAY, old,
all its flowers GONE and DRY,
but I know the name of each one
so DEAD today under the sun light.

Here is SOLITUDE, hiding always,
rejection made it so very shy,
leaning to and inside the shadow
of a tall SORROW that will not die.

Like a leftover pillar of the ruins
of a forgotten temple in the past
PAIN, embodied in a black cactus
with mean thorns and not a life.

REGRETS grows here, everywhere,
much as an unwanted weed alike, s
ucking from the earth its power
until all are made of unfertile sand.

SINS are the peripheral stones of
a garden that no rain, nor any man
could wake up to a former splendor
of colorful and perfumed plants.

Because the salvia of ENVY trees s
pitting "it" around for a long time,
killed the waiting seed in the ground
making place for plenty of darker ANGST.

DESPERATION shows no flowers
but it gives a stench of FEARS grants,
that''s not even wanted by PARANOIA
but just so in love with SUICIDE.

Don’t come to my garden if you are
one of those people believing in SMILES
and think that TEARS nurture,
because everything DIES in this garden of mine.

roar #4

I write this letter to you

to make up for the other two.

Although I think you do not exist,

I have no choice I must persist.

for I have a favor to ask

to help me forget my distant past

those rash and unforgettable times

in this life, full of lies

for whenever I attempt to close my eyes

thoughts of the endless dreamer arise

showing me her heaven in my mind

and the people that would suffer if I were to die...

as feelings begin to burst out of this letter

might as well close it,

aint got nothing better to do in this life,

just full of misery

this isn't a letter it's a piece of history

I'll just close this heart from my life,

until the day it is opened by The Creator.