Showing posts from 2013

Scarlett Thief

With white ribbons in her hair
And black shoes upon her feet,
She danced to love graceful
Under masculine heat.

Being one lost in love,
And love lost in one,
She nuzzled his neck and 
Kissed him to belong…

With bracelets so bright
Under disco light shine,
Scarlet spotted him close,
Her heart out of time.

Falling then hard, Then
Falling so strong…
She found that love witnessed
Was love once then gone.

Then after a moment,
She saw a lifetime
Realisation a thief,
Love being the crime.

She found sooner then, how
Love lingers in time,
She stole him in life
But she lost him
In rhyme.


Can you risk losing
Something so beautiful?
When beauty is the
Ruler of the world?
When a face depicting many fears
Can portray so many
Delicate lines?
And time
With no other option
Can steel it so easily
Away from you?
So as you love her, not enough,
Can you really risk
Losing something so beautiful?

Written for #WW
Boneata Bell

About You

Your embrace
Sends me to the moon.

Your stare transfixes me
To the stars.

And your kiss releases
The gravity

Your smile
Is the shining sun.

Your scent
Makes my heartbeat run.

And your love releases
The black

Boneata Bell
Written for WW

If Now You Wonder

If now you wonder what
You meant to me,
You meant nothing.

If you now wonder what we
Had between us then,
It was nothing.

If now you wonder what it
Was that kept me crawling back
To the devil?
It was terror.

If now you wonder what
We had then I'm telling
You that we had nothing.

If now you wonder where I am,
I'm nowhere.
And you are nothing.

Boneata Bell
Written for #WW

Later Too Soon

I met you

Too late, after

Many nights crying

And wrists left

bleeding, I met

You too late before I

Realised the real

Image of love

And hate.

I met you,

Too late, after

Meeting her,

Too soon.

Boneata Bell
Written for #WW
November 13th 2013

Blazing Firework

It fizzed with a sparkle as bright as
Christmas night.
And a flare so spectacular the sky looked alight.
And it rose to an elegant glitter
and shimmer-
With a scent of roasted chestnuts
Dazzle and dimmer!
Between one hand in mine -
One heart - Now entwined!
Under blankets of silk,
Under stars resting still.
The firework,
Took flight.

It shone with a glow as delicate as
Falling snow.
And a breath so deadly the
Sound stole the night.
And it screamed to a tearful hymn
Almost king,
With a scent of burning wood beams,
Crackle and sing!
Between two eyes in meeting,
One pulse - Still beating!
Under colours of dream,
Under flames flying high,
The firework,
Took flight.

It flew with a weight as unsteady as
Volcanic eruption.
And a shimmer so addictive the sight scarred the mind.
And it swam to a dive entwined
Within sea-
With a life so metallic the sight
Now bothering me!
Between palm to palm -
Two hearts sweet calm!
Under blankets of black,
Under ink dripped in stars.
Under shimmering sea,


'My pumpkin!' He howled with an elegant smirk,
'Come trespass my graveyard and there we shall lurk,
With darkness upon us we're bound to see light,
From children with tea lights, we'll give them a fright!
My face with its smile of razor sharp teeth-
Is bound to make mortals wither and weep'.

'Come now, my pumpkin', he spoke without sound,
Causing blood to start pulsing and head now to pound,
To a rhythm that Casper once dared to achieve
That a non believing dreamer now then will believe!
''My eyes now so hollow and brain on the floor,
Not in one piece but I've seen you before!'

'Dear pumpkin', he screamed with a voice of sweet calm,
'Be my accomplish, you'll come to no harm!'
With a tear so hesitant, head ready to protest,
He squealed with delight that I'd just passed his test.
My own eyes now hollow and blood bleeding dry,
A tear now marking my very last cry.

'My pumpkin,' he laughed with an elegant smi…

Blame the Nightingale

The chapter began,
As any chapter be.
A lava dipped in purple silk,
And angels wrapped in diamond thread.
The circle pulled me downwards then,
For that,
I blame the nightingale.

The story played,
With intricate detail,
A liquid floating bubble high,
And glass pupils glazed into her head
Deep within her tale, she said;
'For that,
I thank the nightingale'.

The middle scene,
And smile bright.
A cut between both reality
And two swans of silver taking flight.
The lake then forced their fatal parting
For that,
I blame the bird of song.
For that,
I blame my nightingale.

The end announced,
With tears bleeding,
A black petrol scene of pain proceeding,
And sickness is a form of love.
In which I take the blame.
Silence is abusing me.
My heartbreak is amusing me.
For that,
I kill the music beat,
For that,
I miss my nightingale.

The end unknown,
With time so quick and heaving in my chest
So sick,
 I stand with extra carefree strength,
And fall with sudden knowledge then.
He's fallin…

CJ. Bad Behaviour

[This is not about what you think it is about!] Fun little piece.

He caught my eye because he wore
this shining green coat
of armour.
He stood like a gentleman, or
suited security guard,
and there within that spontaneous
moment, he stole my virgin heart.

I hit his breaks and we paused
momentarily in the September
early darkness.
He took the whip and obediently
there we sat in eerie peace,
Almost as if he could feel my needs.

Speed now, to the scent of a perfumed
masculinity with an extra passenger,
and loving kiss.
He saw it all and heard my wish,
First man growled a hesitant roar,
Second graced a smile I had

On route with nervous disposition linked
To my challenging blacked
Out back glasses and elegant
teddy bear carrying the trace
Of such good girl behaviour.
In all honesty, I'd never seen a man like him before.
And I didn't think we'd get very far,
Until we did.

He was my first. Christopher-Jay -

My very first car.
And he led me astray.


First Drive

It took me over a year to pass my driving test. In between I failed a good three too. I never really thought that I would be able to drive; I wanted to do it, for the freedom to let go and venture into the world that we live in, but I didn't think it would happen.

So when I passed a few months ago, it took me weeks before it sunk in. I remember looking at my pass certificate several times, putting it away, getting it back out - it was a dream. Driving is easy for some people, they fly through it, pass and never look back, but for me it was a tough, long, emotional and tiring road. But I did it.

I bought my first car a couple of weeks ago. With so many months off the road I was terrified about getting back in the car, but I forced myself - I knew that I had to do it, I mean, it took me so much effort to pass, I couldn't let it all go. So on the Thursday I bought the car, on the Saturday morning I insured the car and on the Saturday afternoon I was out driving the car, with my …

Justice For Animals

I observed the conversation between two women regarding their friend, they planned to leave the nightclub before she returned from the toilet. I saw her crying alone, an hour later.

I observed the fighting between two men, one said the other was giving him ‘funny looks’ and later he laid almost lifeless on the floor with a skull so caved in that he looked like he had been hit by a car, whilst women screamed in front of him.
I finally observed one family split in two between misunderstandings with children’s heads turning from one to the other. And then I noticed the family pet; Sat silently in the corner. Betraying none. And trusting all.
With this picture running through my mind and a beautiful puppy playing carelessly by my feet and brightening my darkest days, I wonder only how anybody could receive only a minimum sentence for harming such a beautiful creature. Before brushing away the tears in my eyes I decide that abusers should receive the same treatment that they give. These anima…

Falling From Love

You could see blades deep
Inside my eyes, as my memories
Stained the scales of my heart.
You did not part
With a smile of syrup gold instead
You lingered to observe
My tired mind.

You could see the forbidden
Glitter falling with the strong
Desire of a marriage bed,
Deep inside my desperate head,
Then sunk your fingers in,
My skin, you watched me lose and watched me win.

You were aware of my
Longing for commitment between
Knives and swords
You did ignore, my only dream,
And gave me everything.
Until you gave me then your core,
I gave up then in
Fairy tales.
And learnt then,

not a lesson more.

By Boneata Bell
Written for #WW.
Wednesday 25th September 2013

Darling Be.

Good morning, my darling,
Will you be my mockingbird tonight?
And leave me not with
Darkened sight.
Stay with me until I fly,
Fly into your ocean eyes.

Dear my darling,
Will you today be my morning call,
And let me rise to
Heaven's stare,
Place your hands within my heart,
And palms between my curling hair.

Sweet darling,
Will you be my eagle tonight?
And glide with not a
Single fight.
No goodbyes I accept tonight -
Let me into your ocean eyes.

For eternity, my darling,
Will you be my goodnight kiss,
And let me dream,
To rainbow flames,
Place your lips between my lips,
And watch then how my heartbeat skips.

So sweet dreams, darling,
Will you be my shooting star?
And leave me not
And never far,
Stay with me until I die,
In heaven in your ocean eyes.

Boneata Bell

Her Kiss

If you kiss me
Glitter will miss
Not a scrap of your heart.
I'll draw you a map -
A map of the stars.

As long as you'll kiss me.

With the ocean so blue
And fish swimming deep,
I'd promise to leap.
To the mermaids' lair,
And there I shall be.

If you now will kiss me.

With electric alive
And a dream to describe,
Fire is dead in the mind wide awake.
In her wake she will fall,
In her dreams he will be and
Right there you will see,
You will find,

You will kiss me.

Boneata Bell
Written as he slept.
On the 31st August 2013.

The Moth

Towards the light it flew
With gentle pace.
Towards the light it soared
With complete grace.

Towards the light it aimed,
With silent sound,
Towards the light it flung,
And heartbeat pound.

Towards the light it danced,
With fluffy skin,
Towards the light it bounced,
Without sin.

Towards the light it swung,
With careless thought.
Towards the light it dived,
Only light it sought.

Towards the light it swam,
With ocean need,
Towards the light it darted,
With one seed.

Towards my light it hit me,
With no fear,
Towards my beating heart,
I observed the little dear.

Towards the light it ventured,
With no dark,
Towards the light it brightened,
The dark seed within my heart.

Towards the window then she hit,
The moth she fell, no obvious pain,
I realised then that we should play
A very similar game.

And fly towards the light with aim,
And never see the dark again.

Boneata Bell.

To Know

When I met you

I looked at you, I never

Really thought that you would be



I saw my baby in your eyes,

And your fingers


Between mine.

And knew I had to

Love you.

I knew I’d have to make

You mine.

By Boneata Bell
If you measure it in seconds,
Remember it in dream.
If you have to shut your eyes,
Remember then, to scream.
If you measure it with magic,
Remember then to speak.
You are only at your strongest when you
Think your feeling weak. 💕

Boneata Bell
If you count the leaves falling from a tree, that then my dear is how much I shall love you. For  every year the leaves will return, and every year they shall fall again. & my love will always return  to you, no matter how harsh the weather be, or how pleasantly sun kissed it shall glow. Through good and through torment. The roots are strong, if you outwait the circumstances.

One Day

One day you will know that

the love I have given to you won’t

be given away.

The love I have given you has not

been given easily, previously


The love you see is burdened,

It worries and ponders,

It cries and it smiles.

One day you will know that if you have it,

You have it all.

- Boneata Bell

I am Jealousy

Something different in you.

I won’t tell you any secrets, just a mass of facts, making you feel as if I am telling you something that nobody else knows.

I will take you into my heart and my home, let you feel as if you are something else to me other than somebody that I just want to help.

I will pick on your every movement, you cannot really do anything right because you are not the way I designed you. You buy me something and for a little while I am content.
You can meet my family, but the moment they start praising you up, you are out.

My life is different to yours, my job is to help you and to help others and to gain more qualifications than anybody else I know.

If it doesn’t happen I will cry like a child in a locked room.

Because I am the person who you never see. I am the person who pretends they like you to make you happy. And I am jealousy. The sick emotional response triggered by every little thing.

And I am jealousy.

And I will haunt you.

Blind Sight

Close your eyes and see what could be,
Feel each breath before it's set free.
Whisper the truth if you mean it to be,
A delicate whisper, between you and me.

Close your eyes now, and see what is,
Give then your heart, before you take his.
Step strongly but faintly, before you fly.
You need to glide low, before you glide high.

Now open your eyes, and reach for his wings,
Swim through blood with both your fins.
Remember to see with two blind eyes,
What you missed when magnified.

Blink but don't miss, the moment you need,
The flower needs water,
To grow the seed.

                                               -  Written by Boneata Bell

In The Fairy Garden

Power. You either have it, or you don't. And that's the way it will always be. So, I'm sitting in my garden in England, it's a tourist area.
           I'm imagining the beach to be over crowded so apt for the comfort of the garden. The back garden. It's private. The garden itself isn't small. Or large. It just, is. Just average. I've noticed the flowers my step-father planted last year have suddenly come to life given the glorious heat. Notice the emphasis here. Glorious. I am a sun worshiper. So, all sorts of colours line the garden, oranges and reds, separated by standing solar lights. This is my mother's little piece of involvement regarding the garden. My step-father is a gardener you see, so it's our job to stay away from it. They change colour, the solar lights that is. She likes colours, all sorts of colours bright beautiful colours, but if I had it my way they would be plain white. White is a classy colour and wouldn't contrast so da…

Thirteen Dreams

Thirteen yards from destiny.
Thirteen dreams stand tall.
Thirteen years to seek a dream,
 and watch it simply fall.

Thirteen years for sun to set,
upon a skin so white.
Thirteen critics hold me up with
thirteen wings of flight.

I look upon a darkened hall,
 my heartstring filled by doom.
Thirteen tiny angels stand,
 observing writing room.

Thirteen hours away from death, 
with velvet liquid by my bed
Setting my mould by ten,
I catch my desperate breath again.

I drop onto my bedspread gold.
And watch my thirteen dreams unfold.

By Boneata (Rebecca) Bell.

Crystal Spider's Web

She began to carve it,
Like it would be the last one she
Ever created.
She began to love it,
As if she would never,
Love again.

With silver strapped upon her back,
She gave a noise of only calm,
Inside she worked from dust 'till dawn,
For future home as
Eggs she held,
Within her heart with mother's features,
No smiles only instinct teacher.
From the start,
And from the heart.
With strength they pushed inside her skin,
But yet still she,
Continued to spin.

The rain fell then, with sound so known,
An echo in her hole such home,
Wooden shelter in the rain,
She trembled then with desperate pain.
As silver structure came to blow,
The wind was bringing in the snow.
All but watch was what she did,
As deep inside she ran and hid.
Unaware, yet unafraid,
They sat there, so untouched- unscathed.

A tear formed inside her brain,
She shuddered but remained  still sane,
For animal strength is nothing but stone,
The stitches were ripped but mind was sewn.
She removed the flying debris then,
From sk…

Here and Gone

One picture, keeps me alive.
One life between
The Dream
And time.
One step between both you
And me.
One life before you
Set me free.
One skin-to-skin
Of desperate pose,
You came then to my
Solitude world.
And that's then when you waved goodbye.
And left me then,
Alone to cry.

Boneata Bell

It is just a quick thought,
Before you kill me.

Dare to be different

FIRST: the clothing. Twenty minutes later I have managed to pick the strangest combination of clothing available in my wardrobe.
Next: the fight with the hair. I'll make it as high as I can, because I can. I am smiling at this.
Finally: the make-up. A simple line won't do – I'll add some swirls and abstract colours. Then, I am ready.
There is a fine line between admiration and disgust; a fine line between bullying and acceptance. I am happy to admit that my vintage-rock-chick-casual style creates some talk, but I am not happy to witness the number of young adults now too quiet to take the lead, because of the judgmental eyes of other people.

Too many people play it safe and follow fashion.
I would encourage something else completely. What you look like, the style you set, defines the person that you are. Appearance will always be a first impression. You cannot avoid this. Stand out. You should never be afraid to be who you are.
On occasions I have noticed disap…

First Flight

I saw him hover then.

With cautious footsteps

By the stream.


I saw him learn

With restless heart.

To spread his wings,

And catch his spark.

I saw him flee,

Into the sky,

I saw him weave

And saw him fly.

Mother close

Under the sun.

His body rose

And power spun.


With wings of grace,

He then turned,

And pulled me back,

Into his world.

With seconds still,

I saw his eyes,

A bird of prey

Take to the skies.


- Beyond the landscape portrait paint,
I see the life 
That we create.
 - Beyond the charcoal pallet stain,
He falters,
but begins again.

                                                                                                     -  Boneata Bell 22nd April 2013

Heart Fall

'She looked then only at perfection sitting before her.
                      She listened to his words, and almost believed them.
                                  She listened to his heart, and almost felt it...
                                         But then she remembered.
                                                                  & history.

                                                                              - Here she fell to the floor, once again'.
                                                                                         And ran from his heart.
                                                                                                      Once more.

What Makes Me, You.

What Makes Me You. I don't often explain my titles, they are a little mysterious piece of my work that allow the imagination to wonder, but I'll explain this one to you. People question how sometimes I dare to put such words to paper. I dare because I can. Although a lot of controversy may surround the issues I speak of, I may leave them dwindling in the air, allowing you to ask a question - and this is my aim. To leave you asking questions. What makes me you is that I too, am human. I can be a very naive human, and I am the first to admit this, my opinions will not always be correct. My work not always in perfect rhyme or be grammatically accurate, but I do my best.

I was recently asked how it feels to place my life on the Internet for the world to see. My answer? It is a cylinder of continuously turning match-boxed woven replica of Hell. I hurt when you criticise me, yet I appreciate it too.

My work consists of two different shelves, one fiction. One non-fiction. You will u…

Dancing The Ballroom

I listened to the beat of notes
And frankly kicked my feet
To Jive.
Only yesterday I sat in bed,
Yet today I came, again, alive.

I moved then to another tone,
And swung across the
ballroom floor.
A thousand times I've moved this way,
Yet never seen this life before.

I rocked then to a rumba kiss,
Closed my eyes and dreamt
Of this.
Pace increased and motion flared
The Tango taught my soul to care.

Full-sprint headfirst with nose so high,
Quickstep so light that I
Can fly.
I head straight for the stars so red,
And fall to natural rhythm instead.

The final dance and I here I glide,
With slower pace and
Smile of pride
Here and now I dance the Waltz,
Exam conditions and confidence false.
Ballroom and Latin beat my
I stumble yet I start again.

The music stops and then I see,
The music lives

By Boneata Bell

You may or may not know that I am a Ballroom and Latin American dancer. I began dancing when I was about six years of age and it is a huge part of …

Paint Picture.

Picture This.

There is you and me, standing still as strangers on a division so deadly to cross. There are electric flames running through it, but it is safe. To to touch it, we'll probably spark little ripples of static through our skin but you'll kiss me and it will feel like power running through our veins...

Picture this. The drinks are pouring down our throats like the good-girl-bad-girl dreamy image you can place within your mind, because you are a man. 'Cos she can be that too, you see. You can do both when your heart beats faster.

Picture this because the music is so loud you cannot hear my voice. I hate my voice. We could communicate, technology is a dream these days. Yet I wold rather stare up at you, you're taller than me and that. Is. perfect.... It is possible if I cannot hear what you are thinking.

Picture this again. A swap of contact and the division snaps in two with only me and you. Alive in this all so crowded scenario. Picture this if you want me. I…


It would be something significant
To live off the memory
Of happiness.
It would ease the strength
From the happy heart,
And in one stance, it then would part-
Protection with a flame.

It would allow something invisible
Yet present dust, to slowly form -
Barricade then, this fence of wire
Call my love and be my squire!
A clutch of angry tears form
Without such fear - I then would
Fall... away from
Lower ground.

It would distinguish both
The metal guard and useless heart,
With sentimental touch and soul.
The highs and lows of
Value dreams.
I want much more,
Than I have seen!
Sometimes I wish I only could,

Be satisfied with just memories.

To meet someone and to smile, to have a perfect time and perfect rhythm. To want more of them, to want more of a gift to ask for more, you risk ruining perfection. But we'll always crave more.

- Boneata Bell

Help new generation to value themselves

SOCIETY has a problem.

Children are waking up to newspapers open on the table baring breasts.

The All Seeing Eye is certainly seeing all. Children and teenagers are growing up surrounded by "the perfect body". It is degrading and generally just unnecessary.

I was thrilled recently to hear of the No More Page Three campaign regarding and surrounding a large national newspaper. The portrayed use of the female body is wrong. Women are not objects, and we certainly do not wish to be regarded in such a way.

Newspapers have been producing texts for as long as we can remember. They circulate news and provide us with necessary information. Though why, I wonder, do perfectly wonderful admirable newspapers and magazines find the need to cheapen their product with "free breasts and eye candy"? A newspaper is for providing news, not for bringing children up in a world obsessed with the human body.

The body is personal. We cannot avoid sharing our beliefs, opinions, …

Music Notes - Joshua Davie

 - Music Notes You can enter a world of music. Let it become a part of your blood, let the lyrics overtake your soul and tie them delicately with spider silk around your heart. Or, you can let them drift through with nothing of a second thought. You can enter the atmosphere of a bar or a club, feel the magic of alcohol consuming the energy of your body, feel the heat of the moment and allow the treasures of instrumental and perfect voice rummage through your deepest memories, or you can let the moment pass you by.

Music is a magic within a dream. I have a particular love for local music though, and unusual music. It seems such a regular time-consuming task looking for such unique qualities. I admit I have a love of R’N’B. A love of rap. A love even of the ridiculous lyrics that somehow make a song popular – a natural following of modern, up-to-date songs, yet there is nothing that can help you to escape, nothing that can inspire your own deepest dream, than listening to unusual, powerfu…

‘Drinker held a knife in the air’

This is a piece of my own reporting. Events and names have been changed, and events are NOT true to life. This was purely a reporting exercise.

Charles Francosa began the day by drinking alcohol as he always would. Since becoming an alcoholic three years ago his violence had increased and he began to feel violently angry towards his ex-girlfriend whom he had been separated from for only a short period of time.

Francosa, currently living in the Grimsby area of North East Lincolnshire, had only that morning entered his local supermarket and purchased a knife, with what he claims to be ‘for only cooking intent’.
That morning Charles Francosa purchased extra belongings including a packet of cigarettes and a bottle of vodka, as well as other violent weaponry, before sending his ex-girlfriend a number of abusive text messages.
When he did not receive a response, he began to consume excessive amounts of alcohol and became apparently ‘un-responsive’ to the advice of family and friends. He began …

An Earth Embryo

I watched with every piece of my heart,

Two world colliding to

Create a piece

Of Earth.

The sun began shinning

The rain fell and

With it came a stench

Of purity.

So forth he placed then,

The figure upon the sand -

Gave it a breath in order of

Speech and meaning.

It was here I saw a loss.

A gain,

And a creation of absolute


- Boneata Bell

Memory Time

She is a memory to me.

Alive with time,
Rhythm and rhyme.
Decoration in this bubble,
Of mine.

She is creative.
Her gold hands speak,
Of meaning so deep.
In a practical dream.
She is to keep.

She is lightweight, feather-effect,
With personal thought.
A present bought.
A gift sent.
A message lent. Not borrowed.

She is vinyl, to all ages.
And all times.
She will not fall or knock,
Down. She is strong in soul.
She is the clock.
Containing ‘timeless memories’.
                                                                                                                      -Boneata Bell
I have written this review for Vinyl Clocks see: ( I love their products, there is something to suit everybody. Creativity is an art form, an art form is a way of life. My poem says it all. Enjoy! @VinylClocks @BoneataBell

She is a Character of Fiction

= + =

If somebody decides they do not want to be with you, you are left facing two options. ONE: You can chase them. The consequence of this being either that they a) Finally understand the depth of your feelings for them and you 'get the guy', as it were or b) They feel that you are slightly obsessive and that you do not understand the meaning of the 'killer word', leave - further decreasing any chance of becoming a part of their life.

... And just as exciting as this option is, TWO: Accepting their decision and moving on. By taking this road they can then assume that either you are mature enough to accept defeat and accept that despite your pain you have strength enough to continue with your journey through the depths of Hell, whilst respecting their wishes... Or they will simply feel that you never really cared if you can disappear out of their life as quickly (or slowly) as you entered it. You are therefore not worth their time. You never really loved them. If you…

For My Mother.

Dear Mum.
You have been there,
Whenever I need.
Held my heart,
When I've forgotten to breathe.
Held my hand
When I have fallen down,
Been a clown
When tears have stained my face.
Mother of crystal.
Guardian of grace.

Dear Mum.
You have been there,
When lightning strikes,
And the wind isn't rough enough,
To fly this kite,
When bruises show,
The extent of my fall.
You are the one,
I always call.

Dear Mum.
You have been there,
Making life complete,
Making life up-beat.
Making life worth living.
So let this Mother's Day
Be one of much love,
To show you how much,
You mean to me -
I want you to see
How special you are.

Boneata Bell March 10th 2013

Ruby Hearts

It speaks in riddles, does the heart,
With graceful, heavy footprints
We leave markings in the mud.
It was only yesterday I learnt,
Yet so long ago I understood.

It speaks in morals, does the mind,
A burden to the loving heart -
I left scarring in the handsome blood.
Only yesterday I smiled strong,
Yet today the tears flood.

So many words, white so black,
Locked and left with doubtful strain,
We left marking in the mud, my love
And it is I, I take the blame.

So many thoughts, with ruby hearts,
And green-blue knowledge free.
I want to run into my mind,
And wait for you to come to me.

Perfection is the figure of a man,
I smile and you smile away,
I wish I could tell you,
I want you to stay...

It speaks with sorrow, does the heart,
With highlight lips and
Words that part.
We left markings in the mud to stay,
I'll bury them with you someday.

They speak with tears, do my lips,
Of love lost and driven far,
It is one last word to you I speak,
In fear of strength becoming so weak,
I will miss you -
Written with reportin…