Thursday, January 15, 2009

The president

Man born out of dust and plain dirt,
But revolutionized to only plaster a smirk,
Leaving one another not love,
But disappointments that engrave,
Resulting streams of tears farther than railway tracks,
Because it costs the world to resume from a crack,
What more if lies within the soul?

Through many toils,
We are who we are,
Yet you chose to be the one to injure,
Little gifts of detriment,
You crushed my hope that you would see,
Maybe at least care for the pain.

Each breath sucked in with broken promises,
Illness caught up within my pore,
Sending me shrills of heat and ice,
Taking in all of me like lice,
Tell me when will you notice,
Not even till the day I cure.

Warning bells ring,
You beg me to sing,
Though romance is not what is discussed,
To you I am just a fling,
That you know I would allow you to cling.

A stranger knows me better within days,
I have been with you beyond grays,
Yet, you see me as though I am a stray,
The insensitivity and blissful aura you play
Leaving me omitted from where your heart and mind lay.

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