THE THOUGHT OF A WOUNDED BREATH.

Sometimes I drip a dozen smile,
Sometimes my eyes rain tears I cry,
 Sometimes i mask my frowning heart,
With words that tear my pain apart,

Sometimes i soak myself in blame,
And hear my past yelling my name,
My flaws I count stings me like bee,
 Yet, my thoughts can't spare me free,

Sometimes I crave to dream sometimes,
To veil my world with hymns and psalms,
Sometimes I flex my muscles out,
When storms awake I melt in doubt,

Sometimes I lean upon my wish,
Each time I lean my pains unleash,
The future bangs my door each day,
And fear floods all my strength away,

Sometimes I bleed most times I heal,
My scars are high like pingo hill,
If choice had wings I'd ride, a boy,
Now forced being man who bakes his joy,

Sometimes I seek a rosy bed,
Where I can sit or lay my head,
To one day own a silver spoon,
Before I see my rising moon,

Sometimes I live sometimes I die,
Sometimes my thoughts do kiss the sky,
All times my pen bleeds when I' m fright, Sometimes I wish I never write.