Poem, poems, poetry


If we could meet up in some beautiful space
a space which doesn’t fit us at all
cease the contradictions in our heads
for a while
then maybe we could stand up for ourselves

maybe they would stop talking
directing our minds
for the duration
of our stay

just a fantasy, enemy
because I’m your adversary
and you are mine

therefore, we are destined
to stay
in our appropriate bedrooms
thinking about the next life

Poem, Satire, Uncategorized

Gypsy Song of Me

I was a punk, I was a dreamer
I was a believer and a disbeliever
I was in love and I was in lust
I had my friendships which didn’t last
I was a beauty and I was a hag
I was a woman, and I was a guy
I felt dirt poor, and I felt rich
I’ve been a good kid, I’ve been a bitch
I was a star, and I was a dirt
I’ve been ecstatic, and I’ve been dead
Now, I don’t know, what can I say
It’s hard to be
one everyday.