PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Make new friends, but keep the old.

One is silver and the other is gold.

These are the words that my guardian angel had taught me.

After I got food poisoning from a blighted potato he enjoys.

I never liked potatoes, but I love them warm and crispy.

Goes to show that even recipes that take minuscule effort like chips and fries requires passion.

I cannot possibly give the potato another chance, now knowing that the man is a liar.

It took me a long time to realize that only I can decide the food groups that are right for me.

We humans are a complicated lot to read and decipher.

So don’t you dare compare kinships to silver and gold

Because even platonic love is the furthest thing from flawless.

And so are the guardian angel’s mischievous, yet spoiled acquaintances.

Friendships are like food from a college dining hall.

What’s on the menu is only delicious if we follow the recipes and turn up the heat.

But we must get to the cafeteria on time and grab them while they’re hot

Because they don’t taste the same if we’re served whatever’s getting cold.

Why should I believe my guardian angel’s wisdom nowadays since he has become aloof himself?

Old eating habits apparently die hard, but the same diet he practices for years is still going strong.

I used to believe that he was stuck in the middle because his acquaintances are often at war.

Now I am grateful that some of the pressure has been taken off knowing that I can’t please everyone.

I’d be a hypocrite if I said I am immune to this gluttonous misfortune myself,

But it is important to remember that life-changing desserts don’t take one day to bake.

Real gold and glistening silver always takes time and effort for Mother Nature to perfect.

When the sweets come out fresh from the oven, I also shouldn’t bite off more than I can chew.

Young love where you at? 

 You need to break free, spread your wings and fly away

 Young love where you at?

I can see you hurt

Tears on your eyes dripping down, they tell a sad story

Young love where you at?

 I can see your heart bleeding the pain that you feel, the emotion that evaded your space and never left

Young love where you at

I can feel you heartbeat fading away

Young love where you at

All this love turned too sour for ones thoughts to taste, believed all the lies they fed you, I can see your dreams slowly been taken away from you, your to scared to move from where you are, scared to lose it all, but what's there to lose? When you really gained nothing from all of this?

 Young love where you at?

 Just spread your wings and never look back, be free from all this drama, for better or worse just fly free just fly free

Bound by the cities

Bound by another one's pity's

Expect a place to be

Or expect not want to be seen

And I'll take you as walking money

I see you as a pretty big funny

We and I, all have found our place

And you my dear, have barely found a face

Bound to me, and to my briefcase

I'll lend you a smile, but you're a secret disgrace

Find the comfort in another's eyes

But in reality, another girl will have them hooked on their clever disguise

Find a place to be

Or expect not want to be seen

Stuck in a rut

With no qualities, not knowing what

Who are you and what are you in this city?

Gone and withdrawn, alone and all shitty?

Expect a place to see

Or expect us to be mean

For you are bound

What goes around, comes around

You are stuck here, forever with me

With no voice, or founding plea

For you are bound

My slave, to paint my sacred ground