Ace Of Black Hearts Poems

I exist, I am not dead, therefore
I am now on here.
As things change so do I.
I never have been much for social networking.
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They never seen me coming.
No not today and not tomorrow.
Capturing hearts and minds.
Holding them in blue translucent glass jar.
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To express oneself with words is to be a poet.
Generally anyone who writes could be considered a poet.
It just to what magnitude, and degree are you?
Do you do it with passion?
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What is so horrifying, if there is no absolute defeat?
Breeding the perfect scream.
Is it inside my head, or is that really me?
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This was before.
This was after.

Swallowing the last bit of daily laughter.
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Just thrown under the bus.
The hopeless cage that continues to rusts.
Soon all that will be left is lots of metal fragments and dust.
Not caused by a catastrophic explosion.
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I hear your doubt.
I hear you turned inside out.
God hates me.
God burns me.
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Extreme emotion
A child has died.
On a day of pride.
How could someone?
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