Poetry is about finding the best way to plagiarize the reader’s ideas, thoughts, emotions, feelings and memories, their past present or future states of mind.

The muse of memories past inspires smiles on many a sad faces, tears on many a dry cheek, and warmth of love inside so many cold hearts.

Poetry without truth, is like a rose without thorns.Still pretty,But sometime the real beauty comes from the things that can make us bleed.

Words are just noises we make to describe stuff.

I curse the heavens for letting the stars fall, I curse myself for not being there to catch them.

We pick at scabs of a bleeding heart because we don’t want time to carry on and allow the wound to heal and scar over, we wish to perpetuate, prolong, and preserve the last time they were close to us, before they walked away.

Driving yourself crazy is faster than walking.

Forgiving unforgivable things is real forgiveness.Loving unlovable things is real love.Seeing someone’s inner most monster and choosing to stay is true loyalty. (It’s not something everyone can do)

The strength of a kingdom comes from its King,The strength of a King comes from his Queen.

Comedy was invented to make people forget,That the plays of our lives were originally written as tragedies.