Creative energy

I guess I just have alot of creative energy lately because I just keep writing more and more poety,

Heres my newest


My Innerchild


Once I thought I had a soul,
My inner self had all control
But not that girl, that child is dead
And whence I think of her I’m filled with dread
Oh Kali, Kali, where have you gone?
With your golden hair so fair
And with such love for your mom,
You’ve gone away to a better day filled with
Bright colors, joy and grace,
Oh Kali, Kali you left in your place
A child so dark mysterious and grey,
Void of all love for anything bright and gay
She kills off your joy, and breaks all your toys,
She’s the essence of your emotions destroyed.
Her clothes are all black, her hair long, half-way down her back
Her eyes are green, bright entrancing, her face so pale, and color all gone
Manson’s her favorite music; she is no longer nice to the one called ‘Mom”
She cannot be hurt by any word, she longs nightly for her voice to be heard
“let me out” she cries by the day, “please let me out, Ill be nice when I play”
No one trusts her, She’s a walking contradiction, used and reused, Oh Kalista,
Why must you stay?
Why can’t Kali come back out to play?
As I beg my inner self to let her come play,
I realize that I’ve been talking to her all day
Kali is Kalista, Grown up in her own way…..
No Longer innocent as I would have willed her stay,
but Harsh and cruel, she fussed with Kalista somewhere in may,
She’s still full of grace, now there’s a different kind of paint on her face She’s still full of grace, now there’s a different kind of paint on her face
And I ask myself, would I wish for kali in her place?




And heres a poem thats not mine but its cool
-Died for Love-

I sit in the park where I dwell,

For this boy I love so well.

He took my heart away from me,

Now he wants to set me free.

I see a girl on his lap,

He says things to her he never said to me.

I ran home to cry on my bed,

Not a word to mother was said.

Father came home late that night,

He looked at me from left to right.

He saw me hanging from a rope,

He took his knife to cut me down.

And on my dress a note was found:

Dig my grave, Dig it deep.

Dig my grave, From head to feet.

And on the top place a dove.

And remember this, I died for love...