Wenn ein schlechter Tag/
Dich schlagt,/
will ich doch Dein/
ernsthaft Freund sein!/
Bitte! Lass mich ‘rein!

Revolucíion/
all around!/
Che on walls,/
seeds in the ground./
Which brings more change?/
Kind, hopeful hearts?/
Or souls filled with rage?/
Maybe both;/
I vote growth!

It’s not you I’m spurning/
nor ignoring your yearning./
I’m a romantic poet/
but really didn’t know it/
was for me; I’m learning!

She needed 2 b weaned./
I knew what she meaned./
No phone calls, IMs/
or texts 2 b seen./

It shouldn’t hurt/
like I got reamed/
in the spleen./
But it does.

When the Frost/
had melted/
and she noticed/
where she stood,/
focused,
looked back,/
viewed the wood,/
she smiled. Where she was,/
was good.

How does the mirror appear 2day?/
Cracked? Spotted? Old stained silver grey?/
or do u/
look @ u/
and see thru/
and comprehend anew/
a grander and more complete view?!

A haggard/
antiquitous daughter/
stood on a stage,/
sounding her crazed/
and demented rage!/
With her impassioned vibrato,/
She awakened my shy,/
slumbering Liberato!

I lost my daughter today,/
though she didn’t die/
nor move far away;/
she yelled, swore, said goodbye,/
and poof! there was no more to say./
I cried/
and died/
inside.

I sometimes wonder/
if I disturb your slumber./
Or if you’re still sleep-free/
thinking of me!