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Not In Straight Line

*pic courtesy - painting taken from pinterest. I am telling you I am not perfect My bed is messed up all day long I have been said I am nothing but wrong My voice cracks open a tragic song My closet has clothes that don't fit me There are times when even my dog doesn't sit with me I am telling you Life is not supposed to be.. What you want to see.. I have been thrown out, shouted at, made fun of,  everytime I want to change and be free.. I have been called arrogant, stupid, mad, with ideas that shatter... I discovered things that no one in the room thought but only if it could matter.. I am telling you That people aren't perfect and nor they will ever be... If you wait for them to align You will be the one being struck out of line Don't think every criticism is fine Some are horrific with absurd design So what if I am not perfect I can tell that imperfection is abstract Breaking the rules is not nodding to solicitations I have tried, failed, then tried back ...
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Eyes Unsaid

Those eyes stood unsaid.
Awfully misread.
Tactfully unfed.
Besides when they got wet.
I couldn’t say a word to let.
Them never to look at me.
Like before.
Those eyes were unheard.
Sometimes absurd.
Remorsefully bred.
Besides when they fought the fire.
I couldn’t just let out my desire.
To fall back in them.
Like before.
Those eyes were never the same.
As stories, they told.
Were often cold and brutal.
And as a ritual they foretold..
The yearnings were young and old.
Words just outspoke them.
Not to be blamed.
As they came out to be bold.
When closed they chose.
Not to oppose.
The dream of wanderers.
That paid homage to the cold.
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