Biography of ken van
what can i say?
19 male mi
i have been writing poems since i was 9 years old and i love doin it
but my best work only comes out when i am depressed or pissed.sad isnt it?
oh well ill keep on submitting them.
ken van's Works:
i believe that those publish there work for the uselessness of makeing money are not real poets those who write for the love of writeing and to share the feeling are those whom deserve the gift of the writing but that is just one persons opinion
ken van Poems
The sweat drips from my knuckles to my nails the blood still circulates but the pain never fails.
I said, see you tomorrow well I'm still waiting for tomorrow to come death is an end less problem there is no sum
Now i lay my head to rest Life was hard But i tried my best
Slowly Fading Away
As I lie in my grave I come back to you young one Do this for me Be brave
She laid the card And i played the game If i tell anyone nothing will ever be the same?
I look around watching you have fun Not realizing My life is done
This is a poem One of lonleiness Disturbance and hate While you are reading
I sit here writng in my little book you stand behind me trying to get a look but not in the book Inside of me
There is that poor sap that lost it all Being born was his only flaw Useless, a waste of space In the mirror be cant even look at his face
Blood On My Hands
The blood on my hands came from you I looked at them and the pain just grew I went to the wake.
Stranger To Myself
I look into myself And what is to behold I see my heart hopeless Dark and cold
Forever No Love
Hateful uses of a person's mind love and security is what you see and hear but in you heart you will never find
Blood On My Hands
The blood on my hands came from you
I looked at them and the pain just grew
I went to the wake.
I saw you lying there in that blouse
My mind became a haunted house
Your death is driving me crazy
Im ready to pull out my hair