Broken Promises A child throws his toy against the bedroom wall, Because he see another game and he makes the call. And then he says I'm sorry, because he then chooses her once more, And he tells her pull herself together whilst she's in pieces on the floor. And he says he won't do it again whilst she struggles for her hand, He watches her grasping out and yet he does not understand. This time the pieces fell much further then the last time she felt the sever, And on her own, that time, she managed to sew herself together. But she's in pieces, still in pieces, And she's frightened to recall, She revered him and he destroyed her, and it was nothing to him at all.

Daylight Those mornings where the rosy hue of a summer's day, that binds itself across your window pane, the type that trickles flares of lights across your bed sheets, like the glittering blue satin you find on the surface of a tropical sea. Where are you? I see you, but I don't feel that you are here. The warmth of that presence is missing. That solitude but not loneliness, like those arms wrapped around you in a silent embrace, it's not here, but I see you. The mirage of a hope you cling to, the warmth and the security of nothing possibility ever going wrong. Content sunrise, only if my heart believed you would never set.

The Rush of Water The fading blue, the greying white, the haze between two scores. Oblivious to your tune, I sing of ocean against my oars. Prey tell your aria before I slip into the boundless brume to ponder On why you may have let me drift on to the bare blue yonder. Without an anchor, a sudden bass, a wishful sense of persistence. Reel me back into your adagio, and seize this growing distance.

Mind's Labyrinth I didn't make the choice to let myself exist here, and somehow it bothers you but I will not shed a tear. Not today, not now, I have places where I must go, and though I must forever rush, my head will hang low. I guess I'm one of the faces that many cannot handle; must I roam in darkness snuff out the midnight candle? ...For a #life of solitude... That I cannot handle, whilst you mutter I, together, your hot topic scandal. I have a fear you see but I fear that I'll be weak, That it hurts to be detached the one you will not speak. I speak, I whisper, I long, YOU do not, will not talk, I, I, I, feel vexed by this shadow which I cast as I walk. Another fear that I have is that no one will ever care, breaking me down, so low, into a whole #life of despair. Breaking me down, until I cannot say not another word, Until Breaking point. When I am nor seen, nor am heard. I am the wind that blows, dreaded wind that you hate, but no one will feel anything not in my current state. Because no one cares for a shadow, everyone would agree, one who now cares the least, the biggest no one is me.

Christmas Cake The glass floors for skating had once been a lake. The children learn to ballet on the sugar cake. footsteps painted, the artist falls, Fall like angels. Red cheeked like dolls. Shrouded in mum's woolen, she bought in mid-July. Now, she will stop them from falling, knowing that soon one day they'll just want to fly.