Brawl of Poems

"Hopeless Romantic"




Joyous thy enshroud of mine,
Abandon rather preside pride over time,
Cajole thy geste in mind as it cripples,
Quaint else, than thy prattles.


Umpire of sweet heavens above,
Entails such candid of a gleaming eye,
Later shoved I and thy no dove,
Yelp whilst maketh dreams of no lie.


Now, thy mortal I ideate,
Mostly heed I feels illiterate,
Omphalos' never straight,
Rather of 'nother lass of trait.


Again, in dreams thy's always of mine,
Lavish maybe is thy warmth,
Ever leads I no path,
Savage reality's no fine.


Silly lass of idiosyncrasy,
Load of feels rings thy not a bell,
Another hopeless romantic sure I'm,
Yet, he's heaven and am hell.






"Cry of Helplessness"




Jest of "mind over emotions" by them folks,
Am beseeching 'em not in my position,
Conjure me forethoughts them alike talks,
Quintessence, have 'em minds shelter poison.


Unabatedly had meself caged in a safe,
Even will had not met things in fields of green,
Like such brim's a top of much mean,
Yet, dove's what me will ace in my days.


Note it best set logs in a tie as per bleed on paper,
Mustering grief-stricken under own soaper,
Oddly, was quiet but was not blind,
Radically foreseen not ---- no goodness will it find.


Albeit pleasing sail in sunset not the ocean but the mud,
Letting memoirs beneath the ground's void be rugged,
Else impetus had me spirit abandoned, what a drag,
Salva mi, now raising me white flag.







What happened to Little Missy?



She was hardened amidst his effort to get into her heart,
Neither attention not a life of a life was what was here to start,
How she wished the devil had eaten his sweet tongue for her part,
Mischievous he may, though for her it was worth not even a quart.


He was an open yet unfinished book,
As if empty pages may be written with yet another story whenever she look,
He, himself, couldn't even fathom how much this world have been shook,
Since the first glance and first talk.


Even so, she was nowhere to sure,
Whether his intentions were sincere and pure,
None of his actions and words were even a score,
Leaving her puzzled down to her core.


Surely he means no harm, just wanting to make her feel warm,
How she wishes he knew how much he makes her cram,
Does he even know in the midst of his calm?
Little Missy, alight his charm.