McSteezy

Sweet and succulent, begging from within Yet what drives me closer, Not of sweet, carnal delights. The rough, hard exterior, Flashing colors, glimpses of sweet after thoughts. Still here, hard, unforgiving, Placing cause for mask and facade, For fear of granting leave to tender beneaths. Fear not, careful Mango. No prying fingers, nor harsh falls befit you. In my basket, woven and dry, I'll let you stay, Safe beside warm rays and gentle breeze. Ripe when you will, I've no need to rush...

Sweet beside an angels kiss Memories fade at Time's erase Thoughts turn stagnant Yet still warm, my lips tingle Long since passed Our time returned to dreams of old Before us lies disheartening regret As our path beneath us turned to rubble Yet still cold, our lips tingle

his hand, clutched a rose its eternal glow, dim shadowed the face of penetance life withered, soft and barren. in his mind, passing hours of last remembrance darkness crawls into the reaching caverns of his remorse into his eyes cast nightly images of his regrets and forshadowed horrors of pain and loss two eyes pressed against his mind burning deep resonating the care he took to hide his guilt yet in the last hours what stops his mind from breaking? be it will or shame, the darkness takes hold his eternal glow, dim

A Small Pain In My Chest The soldier boy was sitting calmly underneath that tree, As I approached it, I could see him beckoning to me. The battle had been long and hard and lasted through the night, And scores of figures on the ground lay still by morning light. "I wonder if you'd help me, sir" he smiled, best he could, "A sip of water on this morn would surely do me good. We fought all day, and through the night with scarcely any rest, A sip of water, for, I've a small pain in my chest." As i looked at him, I could see the large stain on his shirt, All redish-brown from the warm blood, mixed with foreign dirt. "Not much", he said

the Dummy In that forgotten part of town, Where wasted hopes and dreams abound. A wrinkled man with life near end, In hopes to have one last friend, Fashioned bits of wood and things, And made a dummy run by strings. He sat alone for hours on end, Conversing with his only friend, And found delight in the fact, That he controlled its every act. He told it how he never had, A chance, since luck was always bad, Although he'd tried so to succeed- The dummy nodded and agreed. And how he journeys in romance, Had never given him a chance. And wasnt it a crying shame, That he was always held to blame, When everyone knew, oh so well

The Angels song Deep, playing the heart strings of man Her voice, stinging soundly Against the white backdrop of a simple life I call to her, I ask for her hand, her heart But all I am left with is the sound, Still echoed through my head My need for her Growing with each reverberation My imagination building her from nothing Her sweet fragrance guiding me Her lip, warm, pressed against my glass prison I awake to a lonely empty room Yet still i feel her touch on my skin Will i wait till another sleep takes me To my only heaven?