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-tis a poem that I wrote about seven months ago:

Deaths Beauty

Though it seems dark,
Death has beauty.
You may not understand.
Your heart may tell you,
When your time is near,
You have nothing to fear.


-tis a poem that I wrote about six months ago:

Alone

Alone is a cry fallen on deaf ears.
Alone is butterflies searching for a drink.
Alone is bleeding with no band-aid.
Alone is breaking down with no one to save you.
Alone is love without a lover.
Alone is an empty soul.
Alone is a bird flying without wings.