Who am I?
An interesting question
Not one I think readily answered
There are really two answers you see
There’s what you see
When you look at me
And what I see when I look in the mirror
The mirror shows
A man
Covered in scars
A man
That has lived in oppression
His whole life
He stands crooked
Back bowed with the weight Of his injuries
But he stands
Chin raised
Eyes set
When you look at me
What do you see?
Because these scars and broken bones
They’re only seen by me
Every step
Expressed in a smile
Every joke
To a wound you may never see
I’ll never stop
I’ll never give up
These hidden injuries they wont hold me back
Any longer
I’m just learning to love
It’s hard
Coming from a world of hate
But my heart is strong
I will not falter
My scars have made me who I am
I don’t know how I feel about that
What I do know
I want to be greater
Than the sum of my scars
When I’m gone
I want people to remember
Not my scars
But me


For a brief moment you caressed my life
with velvet touch and subtle scent
A rose blooming from the desolation of a broken heart
Only to wilt and fade away
Now the sharp sting of thorns left behind are all that break the monotony of your absence
Is this life?
To dwell in the bleak winter having tasted spring?
Enduring biting winds for the hope of a future sunrise?
Only to mourn again the shortness of spring
And the decay that follows

Screaming at the Stars

A man walks through the desert alone
The world empty of life
As far as the eye can see
He lifts his gaze to the night sky
Screams his pain to the stars
Emotion carrying his sorrow
Into the deep void
To the dark things that dwell there
His face bears the trails of his souls blood
Spilling to barren sand
Reflecting moonlight as it falls
Where the entrails of his wounded soul
Touch the scorched earth
A black rose rises
From the sand
Wicked thorns threatening all
That would be tempted
By it’s dark beauty

Whispers to the Moon

My heart is shouting
I love you
But my head objects
Says it’s too soon
So I step outside
And whisper it to the moon

Head says it’s too early
All in good time
Give her space
Give her room
So here I am instead
Whispering to the moon

Temper enthusiasm
With patience
Head says to heart
Write a little tune
Go outside and
Sing it to the moon

I have these silly rules
The stupid games
We have to play
What a cartoon
I must appear to be
Singing to the moon

But my heart it yearns
For a word, a touch
Emotions ready to burst
Taught like a full balloon
The only release of pressure
Are whispers to the moon

And so I wait
In patient agony
For the time to come
I hope it comes soon
I’ll be showing you this instead
Of whispering it to the moon