I like writing in my spare time. I don't know if I'm any good. That doesn't matter. I write for me. If you don't like it, tell me. I'll continue to do my thing for myself. more »
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Albert Witz Poems
Late Night Woes
Dear silence, old friend of mine ambiguity stricken doubt plaguing any inner sanctum clinging to thoughts unspoken, wrought with insecurity I bring no false duplicity, eternally bullied down by psychotic fits of misery
We're Not In Control
I'm a sweet talker. Born this way, a Stalker. A never ending cycle of systematic psychosis. I was raised to be an idol, I never wanted to worship.
I'm tired of titles
Me myself and I. Everybody has to die. No human can become complete until death is accepted. Your heart, your soul, your whole being, finally fine with ceasing to be.
The truth is unreal. I know not what Im thinking. Only where my thoughts lie. These objects don't exist.
Words, words can be so diminutive, yet knock you out. Words can make a blind man see, words can create or destroy a world. The power lies in meaning, cynical as it is, the power varies. Nothing is concrete, love is a lie, fabrications of a faberge life.
Some people think of me as a minor, Major amounts of thoughts Feed the inner most parts of my heart. A loss of self, significant in theory, living my boring life so dreary.
The world Is spinning inside my head Time knows no boundaries The flow and order cease This universe, I created
In light of the darkness that blackens my bright mind. The days lit of a crescent shaped sun, are all too much full of shade. The weight of my thoughts make my spine out of place, sometimes spreading from head to toe. Strength to remain, if hope is a thing made of feathers, we can only continue together.
The unreliable appearance of an angel. Wings white in the wind. A golden ring rests atop your rusted horns. The beauty you radiate, must be from below.
Build Me Up
I swear, I'm steel Hard and strong, But I'm not stainless, All of you leave your marks
Contemplation, I wish to Follow the temptation Suicidal damnation
Lies bind us like glue, Our relationship, me and you, The beauty and the beast, Yet not in the least,
Resist my most malevolent thought. This shell of a man, what am I to you? What will I become. This potion holds the key to his release.
A Quick Thought
Judging by that smile, You never meant for us to be. It's sad, you waste your chance, yet complain about being unhappy! I know that I could yet make everyday the best day of your life.
Comments about Albert Witz
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Late Night Woes
Dear silence, old friend of mine
ambiguity stricken doubt plaguing any inner sanctum
clinging to thoughts unspoken, wrought with insecurity
I bring no false duplicity, eternally bullied down by psychotic fits of misery
Follow me to the depths, the void, the barren vile world of my demise,
where those words which whip and lash reside,
where the memories mangled and mowed by blackness thrive,
where the subtle creeping shadows slowly enclose around my mind.