Saint Cynosure

Come close my love,
to touch your face,
wipe dry your tears for more.
For my flesh burns,
...

He had the dream,
to hear the screams,
of a million aching men.
He sold himself with rhetoric,
...

You're pathetically ugly,
thats what they all say.
As they frolic together,
in the summer and play.
...

The greatest poet to be found,
is by the numbers not just by sound.
...

Once you learn who you are,
you change what you were before.
You put new rags upon your back,
leave the old ones on the floor.
...

This world was built on little signs,
in lines in place by fives.
Signs to read aloud to friends,
and signs to walk right by.
...

Death sweet death,
the visitor,
dark color at my door.
I'm hesitant to answer,
...

All outside is white as snow,
except for Edgar Allen's crow.
Quietly and so serene,
till Edgar Allen's crow does scream.
...

A darker hour awaits her,
much to my delight.
Her temp of fate mistakes her,
but I shall set it right.
...

Use me,
abuse me,
show me that I'm loved.
Pick me up and kiss me,
...

On nights that are not full of moon,
I take my membrace walks.
Pass the broken buildings ruin,
where the ghost of all dead talk.
...

Don't close your eyes,
don't turn away,
for you might miss my move.
I'll take a risk that you don't see,
...

Paragraphs,
of words to be.
Written down,
to fill a need.
...

My eyes bleed tears,
because this curse,
thats laid upon my head.
Tis no reason left to live,
...

We two did become one today,
if only for a glance.
Our eyes they meet than danced away,
forbidden if by chance.
...

I scrub and scrub,
but my hands aren't clean.
Theyre still dirty,
from the filth Ive seen.
...

No words are spoke without a face,
no colors can be seen.
No sound is heard,
no scent is smelled.
...

You push and shove me,
but say you love me.
You hit and kick me,
and say you need me.
...

O circle of poets,
ring of friends,
Ive picked up my pad and pen.
To write the words that hang on walls,
...

I close my eyes,
I turn away,
and yet you stand here as to stay.
I do not live,
...