Mon Vert

  Ive forgotten how to understand It would not matter How people spend their time If it keeps them away from thinking From silence Then we simply ought to understand That life could be simpler If such brings the joy If such brings the peace If such tickles all the matters of the world It does not need no thought.

Lies again Ah! Summers can be so lenient  Cold mornings And the slight dragging of feet The water is tapping again I can feel better The sweat on my neck Can I do something  Else Not to remember you Amusement suits me  Not best I feel better when you are near Don't need to talk I'll be good Just be near The air rises when you are here.

One more poem to let it fly around The empty spaces No one finds That leaves turn to dance There will not be  Anymore I could lose nothing Letting may be Wherever Letting whatever May be.

It must be Because of the light That Days are turning to wine There is a painting inside you That encaptures the weather Stealing dimming gray lights On floors The summer's rain Doesn't seem bad Now it has become a song That keeps you away looking At the skies Dreamer. If I could go around the clock Take in a little time Just keep looking away I can pretend to look At the skies I can pretend Because it can be you too Just Let Life be longer Than a minute a day. 🎵: Soren

Rarity is the word When pink dots swarm  And bubbles of life Haphazardly begin to tint The fingers that swell Smile Once Charms That my color Blurs in pride Warmth As we move the world In a place of rarity That umbrellas cannot hide Everytime it is felt Hats are unworn In a place like this We are of rarity And all is called for joy.

I would laugh now and then Thinking I would write books And read it out to you Now in another city Things go misunderstood But if I tell you Everywhere else Understanding is as lonely as we were with each other Made me see clearer visions Fantasies Because what to do In a life grim and proper Airtight Laugh with me now It was not as suffocating I would succumb better In those ill gotten rooms I let you into Birthdays, Christmas You've missed me Tell what you see it does Your poems never cease to lie.

If forgiveness had been A visit to the Church Would you have let me Kneel the cold cobbled floors Repent in hot coals Four years  This torture  Goes beyond and my .. Take in my peace of mind Let me I would Selfishly I would Just let me Let you take this  Peace in me I could make it so Make me Make it so.

If it had been an entity On its own It could be With its bright spirit Nothing could escape Its emotions And better People understand it more Than of their own It can be loved Lover, It can be, Yet Can it pretend? Yet is good Would it pretend?

I pour out my senses To where I- In a white room With a pen in my hand I lie sideways where my feet Cannot touch the pale sheets Of sickness And menthol Uninterrupted  It is as pleasant as it is dry If curtains were drawn I could bleed Because outside these walls there is pure terror of depth That bland curses cannot cure and endless does not seem  To help anymore I am between drowning That I could see my reflection Far away, Away from hopeful dreaming.

Plums And the latter effect Of tang In every count There is the taste of ocean drying on the tip of my tongue, Just as the wind is all to myself, When I see you Turning backs straying away because, I dont want to figure it out Looking away because The wind is all to myself, I don't want to see you Seeing myself, I dont need to rush When I see your back, It becomes all mine.

One could only long For the autumn In a place where persimmons remind me Of their vacancy  Outside the windows of my confinement, your willful gazes  could only empty the ocean, with you  The long fascination of mystery Mastery I could only long the ghosts Of lurking chairs around you And crude remarks Where your frown meets The crack of a smile where your moles are no longer seen And I could no longer look For what it was.

t he room is lit into golden Where I can walk With the shadows That does not make me sleep At night, It is the illusion of the sun Neverending And I can only do so much As to begin To talk where the air takes every urge away from my tongue But still I hope it riddles on to your ears Like a song Where verses become words meant for you.