Brush

Brush

Everybody I know has an undertaker,

sitting in their room.

They use it in the mirror, with admiration

In their eyes.

Everybody I know has an undertaker,

Sprawled out on their desk.

It sometimes wears zebra stripes

And often times wears pink.

Everybody I know has an undertaker,

They can’t help but hold it.

It consumes dead life,

with its nails gripping their DNA.

Poetry

I, too, love it: the way it blooms;

  it draws me in, speaking

Of simplicity, lingering

With intensity.

 High hopes on the rise,

   Opening my head to an, embezzlement

Of pieces, sprawled across my

  Feet. When the words are in the smell of roses; I take them

In, I set myself

Free of all worries, I

   Just dream.

   Like a delicate bird; I listen

 For the song. The rhyme,

The rhythm.

   The beauty, an ocean

  Gone for miles, no thoughts

  Just calm waters.

You shine like the stars

You shine like the stars in a twilight sky

You feel as low as the deepest layer of dirt

Listening to angels sing repressing songs,

Wishing for a signal of hope to burst through the skies,

But still you drowned as if the world is falling in on you.

Because of your faith in the chosen one

They accuse you of being a dirty terrorist.

But only your beauty seeping through the air can define you,

Because you are a star in the twilight sky

You shine like the stars in a twilight sky.

Don’t let them destroy the life you hold,

Don’t let your eyes rain and touch their skin

For you are too bright to be brought down.

They assign you’re beauty to the color of hate,

And force you to be pricked with glass on your bare feet.

But know there is still love for you in the twilight sky

Know That I care, someone cares.

You shine like the stars in a twilight sky

They can’t choose tomorrow’s destiny,

They can’t choose your destiny,

 Only you have the strength to choose your destiny

You shine like the stars in a twilight sky,

Yes, you shine like the stars in a twilight sky