Life

As dawn breaks,
A life begins.

As the sunsets,
A life ends.

Is it only what’s,
In middle that has any substance.

The Poet

I never claimed to be a poet; I never claimed to know it.
Course, I know I wrote it , But I always seem to blow it.
Plying a word little bit, moving a word around it.
Holding a vowel for it and rhyming with a consonant
Scratching it in pencil, accosting it like an assailant,
Braking the rules left and right of it, hoping no one noticed it.
Working as a rhyming surgeon, always trying another transplant,
Am I a self defined amateur poet, who never understood it.

McDonalds’ birthday

Screams the children, Cries of joy.
Sounds of the party,
Waiting for one boy.
Looking for the for the cutlery.
While singing happy birthday.
Cupcakes stand purple and purity.


Be not greedy, take just one goodie,
Do you have to be so noisy.
Swallow each bite, enjoy each morsel, for today 
Is your McDonalds’ birthday
You are now a big boy.

Take a Hint

I look into your eyes, I finely realize

That your lies, outweigh your thighs.

Please don't take it I despise,

And I hope you realize.

That I wish you can empathize,

I don't mean to chastise,

I feel that you are no prize,

So I have decided to downsize,

So I give you your goodbyes.

The Wryter

The writer’s talents are underwhelming,
His emotions are consuming,
He dreams of nothing,
He always wants for something.


He thinks he knows best,
So he tells the rest,
For he is just to be a pest,
But always looking to the west.


Is his life ending,
Is his life beginning,
Is his wife understanding,
Is he dieing.


He as a child, so overwhelming,
His likeness, so understanding, 
His plight so depressing,
His future so telling.


The writer tries looking to the east,
Looking for the signs of a new quest,.
But turns to the west, 
Looking for the signs that dad knew best.

The Universe

The ‘verse, oh so deep and wide,
I looked across the sky, 
and I can only, 
wonder why,
it made me cry.


The sky, so black and empty,
it is night,
and I feel no fright,
for it is broken by the little points of light.


The Sun, so yellow, so bright
it is day,
if I don’t look away,
I might
Loose my sight.

The Attempt

I am tired of being,
I am sad,
I am lonely,
I am tired of hoping.
I am mad,
I am cowardly,
I am tired of trying.
I am no maid,
I am not the one and only,
I am tired of no one listening.
I am just tired,
I am not sleepy,
I am fed up with the lying.
Am I dying.