If Love Ever Exist

The last poem I’ll ever write
is dedicated to my future wife.
It get’s harder for me to sacrifice,
but for her I would give up my life.
I don’t wish for a better world,
but I wish for a love so strong from a girl.
A girl who always helped me see
the wrong in my hypocrisy.
I say one thing and do another.
If not for her I’d be a bother,
and that makes her the perfect lover.
If not for her my heart would wander.
Seeking a love that could never exist.
Unless to her I bare witness,
and when she’s gone I long and miss
the same sweet taste of her soft lips.
As they crush together and melt on mine.
Under the sun a taste pure and divine.
And it can turn as sour as wine.
Then something bad happens and no one is fine.
We both decide we need to take time.
You never see me and I pay you no mind.
Until one day I first awake,
and realize that I miss your face,
but then my heart begins to break
because I feel like I’m too late.
Your heart belongs to someone else,
and in my mind I curse myself
because I gave you half my heart
and now they’re constantly apart.
And we try to replace with sex appeal
to heal our hearts and clear our wounds,
and try to give love more room.
More room to roam and room to breathe
because it can’t just live inside of me.
I can’t just let it stay inside.
I can’t just let it keep me crying.
I can’t just let it slowly die.
I can’t just let out love perish.
Every moment we’ve had I will cherish.
If my heart be full of sin
you’re the one that keeps me cleansed.
You’re the one that keeps me whole.
You’re the one that has a hold
on everything I truly love.
And though I know you’ve felt the same
I know you can’t give this feeling a name.
I admit it does sound kind of lame
saying I’m in love when it’s just a claim,
but I love you deep down to my core,
and not being with you is keeping me torn,
so if love ever exist
I know in my heart that I feel it.

Since Love Does Exist

We’re here.
The end of one road and beginning of another.
I’ve found the one I truly love.
My future wife. My eternal lover.
This poem is the last to come from my hand
I’ll use it to show her I will always be her man,
and I am proud to have seen her change into a woman.
My world doesn’t need to be better
because with her I don’t have to settle.
All that hypocrisy and worrying
is gone with her because she made me see
that I’ll miss out on life trying to find it.
She saved me from my wandering
by having her love come and find me.
Every second that shes away
her lips escape the love that waits
along the line that my lips form
and hold to hers another day.
We’ve been through the bad’s and I’ve left before
just to feel our hearts be torn.
But I missed you.
I needed you…I still do.
I know now what you are to me.
I see how I’ve affected you.
It’s not my life anymore.
It’s the one I share with you.
I felt I had lost you because you gave me away.
But you keep me freeminded.
You’re my personal reminder
that there are things in this life
to hold onto and remember.
And the way that we met.
The way we fell off.
The way we are now.
It touches my heart.
Consider this poem my vows.
For I will be yours here to stay
Tomorrow, the next forever and a day.
To love and protect you from the hurt, pain and decay.
To build with you something the eyes have never seen,
and prove how much you mean to me.
So since love does exist
I’m glad in my heart that I hold it.

Thank You Poetry

Its been one hell of a ride.
It may not seem like much,
but poetry has changed my life.
I just feel like I’ve done enough.
The next steps should be grand.
Better than anything I’ve done before.
And even so with that
poetry has helped me open other doors.
I’m more confident and feel more competent
than I’ve ever been in my life.
I’ve gained so many more passions
and have the excitement to match.
The things I’ve seen and learned even about myself
have come from being broader in the way I felt.
I say feel instead of think because thinking leaves room for doubt.
Thinking is for more concrete things like listing and billing.
But feeling allows you to go out and do things.
It’s that motivation that you receive.
Some people have asked how I can get so excited about writing.
They say they’re just words.
We write all the time.
But see that’s the thing.
Whatever I enjoy is something I’m passionate about.
I learned that about everyone but mostly about myself.
A makeup artist doesn’t choose that as her career simply to have something to do.
She should be passionate about that activity.
It should be something you don’t get tired of doing.
Well my words are her eye shadow.
My metaphors are her beauty blenders.
My creative punctuation is her foundation.
They’re different activities with the same effect.
It all depends on who you are.
Because of this I’ve found out so much of who I actually am.
Poetry started out as a coping mechanism.
Now it’s my best friend.
Well one of them.
It’s something I never thought I’d stop doing,
but I now have so much more I’m pursuing.
I realized some time ago poetry is just another form of art.
Therefor I am an artist.
And with that realization I saw everything differently.
I loved more and hurt less.
But with this I saw all the negatives plain and clear.
Everyday I try to keep these things away from me.
That’s why my only fear is having fear.
With that being said I put all worries to rest
as I wake from my own slumber of self doubt.
I adventure on to pursue more in this life
but I thank you poetry for bringing me this far.

Mr.Unforgettable

When you ask me what I want to do with myself.
It’s simple. I say everything.
I want every ring. I want to learn to sing.
Lets go skydive and learn how to play guitar.
Get a few different cars. Learn how to model.
My life’s a timer, but I don’t know when the times up.
So to me it’s always time to find a new project to keep my mind on.
I want to be Mr.Unforgettable.
The one that’s just incredible in everything he does
and all of it be memorable.
I want events that I’m set to take hold of, control of
and hold up the gold cup of accomplishment
and may no man tarnish it.
I plan to leave you all in astonishment.
Does he ever get tired? That’s the question I should get.
And the answer is no.
The journey is long. There’s no time to get tired.
I need to stay wired. Complete within myself
so I can push farther and pull harder.
Balance my karmas and put in place what I want tomorrow today.
All I ask of you is to remember my name.
Mr.Unforgettable.

Venting Part 3

So many happy trigger fingers we can’t even load up…

And the same dude that you’re shooting for
is the one that’s been fucking your girl,
Or bitches as we like to call them these days.
No respect for the woman we say.
These hoes. These tricks. These thots. That bitch
What the hell is this?
Like to hit that shit right?
Fuck her just right? Risk making another life
because it isn’t wrapped tight.
And then when she is pregnant
calls you late and tells you straight then
tries to have an intervention
she loses all of your attention.
There’s a few roads that she can take
but most of them will lead to hate.
Of you. Of men. And now she’s just faced with
being a disgrace trying to raise a child at such a young age
and when no one wants to help.
More importantly she doesn’t want the help.
It’s a sense of accomplishment.
Her respect. You have tarnished it.
Her love. Yes, you sparred with it
and now she’s fine with it.
See now she knows her worth,

But the way you made her hurt did something to her mind…

Venting Part 2

But we live with this reality everyday…

Why does it have to be so?
Why do we have to be cold?
Why do we have to be fascist asses
With fake skin and ass lifts
worshiping celebrities and racists, feminists,
sexist and pretentious assholes
who work for cash flows
but can’t help out more with feeding the poor.
No one said that life was fair,
But as long as we’ve been breathing
we consider us the highest species
yet every other one knows how not to be greedy.
We overeat, over hunt, over sleep, over fuck,
over run one another but won’t pick each other up.
Yeah it’s tough but we make it tough on ourselves
and laugh at another when we see them needing help.
Sometimes I think I have a negative view of life,
but all the negatives makes it hard to see it right.
Go ahead. Record the video of the guy getting his ass beat,
yell world star and upload it at light speeds
but when asked the question of why you didn’t stop this
say it wasn’t your business
knowing that if it was one of your flaky homies
you’d be down there in a quickness to stump that dude out
about fifty to one, and god forbid you have a gun.

So many happy trigger fingers we can’t even load up….