Hey there. Well, I like poetry. A lot. In fact I write it so often it's kind of ridiculous. I can't promise it's very good, but here's a poem or two I've decided the world can know exists.

Still Waiting

By: ME!

She was kinder than most, sweet as honey.

Ye for all of her beauty, she only craved money.

She had the highest of voices, clear as a bell-

Yet even that detail turned murky as well.

She wasn't the one, to my dismay.

Sometimes even now I think of her and say:

What we could have been, had she only been true!

Perhaps, perhaps, but she's certainly not you.

We still have not met, but one day we will.

I dreamed of you once, I'm in love with you still.

Lady of Dreams, Angel dark as Night,

Please just come, stay and be my moonlight.

We may not meet for years, or perhaps will never.

But for you my love, I will wait forever.

Sonnet 3

By: yup, still ME!

"You are so different, not what I thought.

Much too different, not the girl I sought."

"But you see darling, I could never change:

I am who I am even though I'm strange.

But do you not love me, despite my faults?

I'm not the greatest but I'm worth my salt.

I tried to hide your heart from blood and pain.

So with me have you lost, or did you gain?

You do not care for my music or friends.

So I guess love for you simply depends.

If you are not happy, then leave me be.

I wish to be with someone who loves me.

If you are not happy, then you should go.

Alas, I must confess, I'll miss you though."

Here I Waste Away

Begging the tears to stop, though I know they won't.

Trying to take a breath, but I have no air.

Willing myself to move, when I have no strength.

Hoping to turn out okay, before it's too late.

This is what I've become

a mirrored reflection of what once was great

a pawn of my anger and hate

In the blackness of a world too cold

I'm nothing but a shadow

Too soon die the young and too late the old

Here I waste away in my memories

Begging the memories to cease, though I know they won't.

Trying to move on, but am held back.

Willing my mind to be strong, when I have no joy left.

Hoping my heart will give out- it affords me too much pain.

This is what I've become

a traveler down an endless lane

where you find misery and pain

Where the only ruler is death

I'm nothing but a shadow

Too silent but for a breath

Here my body stills in wasted memories.

So yeah! Just a few poems, not necessarily my best. They're not particularly good but I either enjoyed writing them or needed to.