More Reason
Her scent is of roses…sweet like wine
Down my throat I taste her,
Matured with time,
Her mind is of worth, yet priceless in standard
When one’s heartbroken,
No doubt she can mend it
Yes she is magic…she’s the supernatural
Beyond every thought,
That you think is improbable
Her walk is of elegance… no one can quite match this
She puts a spark to my heart,
Like the strike of a match stick
From the way that she holds me…to the way we connect
She makes me feel like,
We can never disconnect
Addicted to her presence…she is what is relevant
Worthy of her elegance,
None is more equivalent!
She gives me more reason… for breathing
More reason for dreaming…
You know what I mean…she really gives my life meaning
– End –
Poetic Ambitions
My hearts on a rage, my minds on a blaze
My souls in a cage, with my hands on the page
Writing like Shakespeare, scripting out novels
My work is continued, they effective like commas
Corners of poetry, acknowledge my identity
I just really wish that my work can sell globally
Too many eyes watching, waiting for my failures
Everybody watching like they sitting in the cinemas
When something works out, nobody says anything
But when something goes wrong, everybody says something
Don’t got a fifty pence piece, so my work is unnoticed
They say I need stacks so my work can be published
But what you don’t know is my mind is well nourished,
Money’s not stopping me, I’ll never be discouraged
Hope my heart bleeds, as I script with emotion,
Got arthritis, the way I draft with devotion
As these drops fall my from head like a magical potion
Hope my tears and sweat have a sought of relation
– End –
