The sad truth

In the mirror 

behind the thin glass,

there lives hatred

as a result of the past.

I smile

she frowns

the mirror plays a sick game

called inside out

it never lies

its known for it truth

she shares reality

which is always a different story

I am standing,

she is kneeling.

I have a posture

she has no structure

she is the true me 

and I am the fake her

through people I see limited happiness

I see their plans of who should be

I'm afraid of my reflection

it duplicates me weak.

yet she wants to be free

she wants to exchange with me

how do I make her understand?

if only she knew

how hard it is to be true

from behind this thin glass

Zamoe*

Time

Time has taught me
Not to ask for more,
Very soon 
The ocean will reach its shore

Life has taught me 
Not to waste time,
However to soon realize 
Once it gone, it's impossible to find

God taught me
Not to give into temptation,
He will do whatever it takes
To strengthen our relation

Time has taught me not to ask for more,
 not to sore,
But to adore.

Zamoe*

London (poem)

His face with the art of scars 
And moist clay placed a part.
I picture love and hate as best friends
Then things start to make sense

I don't know you yet,
But I am still building up the courage.
I must understand you first
Before I bombard you with my own load of luggage

It seems as if you had it,
Then it faded.
But boy, I can tell 
It was splendid.

Who was she?
I bet a rare piece of art
Stolen form right under your feet.
She left you pale and week

When London was stolen form you,
Your voice ran away too.
I'd say I understand but I have no clue.

Don't make me expensive to the worldd
But expensive to you,
Then you will never see my back
Unless they take me from you,
That's if you allow them to
Do not make our worst fears come true.

I am here now
And to love again,
You will know how

Zamoe*