Writing

What you write is not always what you mean,
It is based on a simple emotion,
You cannot express.
And not expressing it well.
You write for the tension,
That has risen to settle down,
As you think about your life events,
That could have angeried you,
Or continued on your marry way of happiness.
The hands that feeds,
Is the one that defeats a purpose.
Make up the words,
To soon encounter a fate.
Yet, it will be unwilling unknown to you,
For it is a subconquence as all.
Its not like you wanted to suppress the thought,
Which turns into a paper of self-worth,
Only because you never told the person how you felt.
Who would have known you would have done such a thing.
But, the next time I see you will be that last.
For it will be my final good-bye to my past.

Heart Felt: You haven't

Heart Felt: You haven't: For the first time in my life, I have no words to give out, I have no inspiration, I have no encouragements, I got nothing. Left, witho...

You haven't

For the first time in my life,
I have no words to give out,
I have no inspiration,
I have no encouragements,
I got nothing.
Left, without a care in the world,
Constantly, detaching myself from you,
It went from me to you,
To you to me,
From we to us,
Now, back to how it used to be
Which broke it down because it got too real,
Coming into a world that you can't handled,
Yet, it was meant to be this way.
With no sense of trust,
It reminds us of the evil,
We have to face everyday.
We live in a reality,
No one is reliable or trustworthy or have responsibility,
You would leave me stranded to keep yourself afloat,
Brought tears to these sunken eyes,
Never imagined you could be so cruel.
You would blame others,
Because you couldn't handle your own truths
You would rather lie than be who you were,
Now, your left searching for scraps,
As you look for home,
Through a him or a her of your choosing,
Because you would run away from the problems you caused for yourself.
Just to make yourself feel better.
Well, the truth in reality of my world,
Is to wake up,
There were no helping hands on my journey,
But you had plenty to choice from,
You feel loved and never taken for granted,
As I am the one left getting mocked,
You weren't hunted down and beaten,
You were never left with hatred in your heart,
Only because people would kiss the frown you walk on,
Yet, now as you feel your world crumbing down on you,
You have a right say, I'm angry,
You have no idea what anger is?
Because this is your beginning,
And not your last.
Stop complaining and face the one thing you haven't.
Because I am tired of the backlash,
Of a world you could never face.
Yet, I laugh and face another,
Because guess what,
I got used too it.

Give me something :D

As I give up the ending days to come.
I loss focus of life one by one.
As I receive nothing for what I've earned.
Working hard but getting no where.
Nothing life but emptiness to share.
Yet, nothing to spare.
Yet, I'm seen as a failure.
Trying with other than the clothes on my back.
We see that you can't take something back.
 No tears, no fears, no crying or dying.
If I saw you walking down the street would I lend a helping hand.
Would I, would I would???
That the question you must ask.
I would say look back, but never again.
When I look at you before as a friend.
I can't I will again.
Broken, beaten, and tragic...

Being Real

It means to speak the truth,
Not the truth that hurts other feelings on purpose,
But truth that is the realness,
we constantly wait for.
It may not be in your family or friend, or a stranger,
The realness is a vibe
That gives people a way to understand who you are.
I stand here to speak the truth
The only truth,
Which is helped only by God.
We are in a need of something that can blow us away,
Open our eyes and realize it.
But, when someone is being real,
Listen because its the only way you can survive.