The man and his sand

Have you ever heard of the man
Who built his empire out of sand?
His sandcastles grew and towered high
His neighbors were jealous
They liked to spy
At last he had himself a throne
But alas he found himself alone
The girl who loved him went away
I can't stand the sand, she'd say
But he would move sand grain by grain
It was enough to drive her insane
He said to her: so be it, go
You can be part of my empire, you know
Or you can wander off into space
Turn away and feel disgraced
She didn't want to leave but she did
And behind her sunglasses hid
Splendiferous tears salty as the sea
She hid them and he could not see
How much it hurt to walk away
He turned his back--with no delay
She could have it all, he thought
I don't need that chick anyway
His towers stand high
He has his throne
He has his riches
But he's alone
He has bitches
But none like she
He misses her smile
She smiled sweetly
She was crazy, lots of quirks
When he thinks of her, he smirks
His smile is followed by hurt
It pains him to see
His empire built
But no wifey

Poetry of April (by me!)

Full of you, full of yourself

I thought we shared
More than screams and sweat
You say I look upset
You say it cheerfully
You send me home
On an empty belly
Full of you
And you too
Stand there-full of yourself
A nagging sensation
to get away or cling
I'm indecisive
Your smile stings
I just want to pout, and scowl
An eye roll every few minutes
It doesn't matter
Roll it away
Bottle it up
That's not quite enough
I'm sick of this
And so are you
But I wouldn't know
Because this whole time
You've sustained a smirk
a stunning show of complacency
It makes me look worse!
That's quite enough
I'm empty, so is my belly
I'm full of you and
You--full of yourself
And what the hell
They can tell
The way we look
We don't try to tell a story
But we do
Or maybe my guilt does
Or my hungry eyes
Or your smirk
Or your complacency
The whole world will know
I have an empty belly
They all can tell
how hungry you made me

Motivation

You're becoming much too old, for make believe
You're running out of tricks conveniently
Stashed up your sleeve
For us the world is too real
And whatever whimsicalities we used to feel
Have long been eradicated
It's a shame--our lives are so dictated
By time--punctuated by little tiny things
That always seem to come up
We spend our time fighting
To make everything work
Something always tumbles
And shatters at your feet
You always fumble and drop something
Life is high stakes
Something always breaks
But no matter what you do
Don't let the broken things
break you.