Poetry

Listen When I talk to you.
You should really hear what I've got.

I'm full of an odd wisdom.
So tell me something.

Some things I cannot Forget.
It doesn't matter how hard.

Your words hit me
as in a way I can't perceive.

Then maybe I won't still believe
in things that bleed.

Just like you and he were
and myself, and we.

We're happy, I guess
you were as me.

However, what I've got is.
A better day

Then you've ever had,
than I've forever known.

But thank you
for breaking me.

And for tearing my
old ways out of that

Freaking box, that's dead
and now is gone.

But as always, I'm still
simply laying totally still.

Feeling very ill. in a chilling
manner that's killing.

My inner childs
kidding spirit

Hope is mirrored in
cloudy skies

pierced by mine
only eyes, I did have.

Now I'm here
your gone.

End of the something
beginning of my anointing

atonement.
Is what I'm simply left with.

I'm left simply with
redundancy, I pray for prayer.