poem

All I need to dois place my pen against paperand your lovewrites for me.

Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,Thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee,And for thy maintenance; commits his bodyTo painful labor, both by sea and land;To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,Whilst thou li__t warm at home, secure and safe;And craves no other tribute at thy handsBut love, fair looks, and true obedience-Too little payment for so great a debt.Such duty as the subject owes the prince,Even such a woman oweth to her husband;And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,And no obedient to his honest will,What is she but a foul contending rebel,And graceless traitor to her loving lord?I asham__ that women are so simple__o offer war where they should kneel for peace,Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,Should well agree with our external parts?

Ya got cigarettes?_ she asks. __es,_ I say,__ got cigarettes._ __atches?_ she asks.__nough to burn Rome._ __hiskey?___nough whiskey for a Mississippi River of pain._ __ou drunk?_ __ot yet.

MOTHER IS WATERI wish I couldShower your head with flowersAnd anoint your feet with my tears,For I know I have caused youSo much heartache, frustration and despair __hroughout my youthful years.I wish I could give youThe remainder of my lifeTo add to yours,Or simply eraseThe lines on your face,And mend all that has been torn.For next to God,You are the fireThat has given lightTo the flame in each of my eyes.You are the fountainThat nourished my growth,And from your chalice __ave me life.Without the wetness of your love,The fragrance of your water,Or the trickling sounds ofYour voice,I shall always feelthirsty.

You didn__ understand the poem, but that was because it wasn__ for you. It was for me to understand the pain you put me through.

She wore her scarsas her best attire.A stunning dressmade of hellfire.

You see herand ascend into love. You become enchanted, a found madman. In your love,you lose yourself and become her. You were once without her, now with her. You still feel her and descend into love. You become enraptured, a lost madman. In your love,you lost yourself and her. You were once with her, nowwithout her.

I do not just want you at your best.I almost do not carewhere your Happiness lives,but please,let me visit your pain?Take me to the placewhere your sadness goes,and show me the tragedythat no one knows.

I__e reached the vanishing point without you.Here my heartache begins with your paintrying to find an unborn startin this fatal disappearanceFrom the poem __e with the Vanishing Point

Things are always terriblefor some people. The questionis the ratio of the palpable hurtto the general sessionof life in an era.

The sun rises bright and beautiful as if it feels no pain.It must not see, it must not hear, it can't possibly or it would not be able to overcome so defiantly.My bed creaks and whines when I leave it behind.I don't know why it tries so hard to hold onto me but yet I continue to try and overcome.I put on my shirt, my pants that fit me, find my socks and glue my heel back to my boot.My gloves are lost, my coat is torn but my scarf still keeps me warm and so I continue to try and overcome.Work has no pride, no place for me but I have no other place to be.My broken dreams continue to rise, my hopes continue to fade but still I try to overcome.A broken window and a gas tank on E, it's not Friday so I have to walk each day for at least another three.And so I walk while the world cries and pleas and tries to swallow me but still I continue and try to overcome.My lock on my door only turns halfway, but I don't have anything to steal anyway.My fridge is bare but my cabinet still holds three so I continue to try and overcome.The news haunts me, the weather threatens to rain down on me but another day has gone by.And I have overcome, I have overcome _ I have overcome - the sun has nothing on me.

Mental illness People assume you aren__ sick unless they see the sickness on your skin like scars forming a map of all the ways you__e hurting. My heart is a prison of Have you tried?s Have you tried exercising? Have you tried eating better? Have you tried not being sad, not being sick? Have you tried being more like me? Have you tried shutting up? Yes, I have tried. Yes, I am still trying, and yes, I am still sick. Sometimes monsters are invisible, and sometimes demons attack you from the inside. Just because you cannot see the claws and the teeth does not mean they aren__ ripping through me. Pain does not need to be seen to be felt. Telling me there is no problem won__ solve the problem. This is not how miracles are born. This is not how sickness works.

Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud-Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

Feel the kiss of ocean breeze,Hear the song of dancing waveLet your soul fly away with seagullsTo fill the heart with the joy of life.

Oh the beauty of nature! Oh the magical heart touching flower.My heart wants to bloom like you with love, joy, and laughter.

Dance with the waves of sea and sing with the sky,touch the sands with love and let your mind fly high.

Peace is a road to happiness and the future.War is a road to destruction and death.

I wish for all of us the blindness of love that makes us see no faults in the other.