Maybe Baby
I write a lot of poetry most of it is awful Compulsive need to keep at it Writing often feels like I am vomiting my guts out Purging demons,
I write a lot of poetry most of it is awful Compulsive need to keep at it Writing often feels like I am vomiting my guts out Purging demons,
Wanna feel it allFeel it in my songsFeeling the loveI’m just skin and bonesDid what I was toldBut never fit the moldSo I started writing songsOh Lord help me now Full of fear and doubtDon’t give up on me nowJust…
ever since i can rememberi needed music to stay aliveand when i began to write my own songsi knew everything would be alright BEEN SPENDING MOST MY LIFELIVING I
Icant force the world to be, what you want it to becan only open your eyes and see, truth staring back at meINNER EYES, OUTER EYESMIND HEART OF THE HEART MINDTA
wish i could read your thoughts then i could finally know someone i wish i could see inside your mind then i could finally say goodbye it seems i’ve fallen down
Icant find the wordsto tell you how i feelwanna hold you honeymaybe then this will feel more real feel your skin on minefall asleep with youwake up and see you
as we lie hereyou in your bed i in minewill you find me? you askyes i say, i will tryeven when i'm lost? you demandoh yes, i lie so lets crylets cry ourselves t
Reader’s note: this is from a Facebook group I was briefly part of but realized quickly that it was not the place for a madman poet like me who is unable to play with other kids especially when they have…
I feel unworthy of love and i despisehumanity for what it has become and maybeeven life itself for allowing such cruelty toexistNot sure how to break that beliefPlease help me.Thank youMarkus Ps. Maybe me expressing this and askingfor help is…
my life is a conspiracyagainst the human mindsent here by the godsmy mission is simple to make you feel whole again feed the hungry soulswith all the broken pro