I try and try,
So hard that I cry,
When I write down a word,
It only is one rhyme..

I think of something else,
Try writing about myself,
But everything comes back
To the reason for my lack of health,

My poems only ever are,
poems that reflect how far,
You have come and I have gone,
Or wishes on a shooting star,

My pen has its own mind,
Connected so intensly to mine,
The subconcious thoughts I sneak around,
That have treated me so unkind..

Spilling out in public places,
Making me feel bound by the traces,
Even I didnt know I felt that deeply,
But I only see one, amongst the faces.

Noises around me sound like you,
I feel you in everything I do,
I try so hard to move on, to forget...
But I cant do anything you wouldnt want me too...

I try to write a word so deep,
Something never heard in anything,
But I fight with my pen, and my subconcious wins...
Its hard... when your name Rhymes with simply everything..