Of Prozac and Ravens (revised, which do you like better?)

Thank God, Poe

Hadn't any Prozac.

Else we'd never know, of

Ravens and what men lack.

Are souls and sanity so easily lost?

Vain attempts at drunken bliss,

Escape is naught but at high cost-

Never more embrace joy's kiss.

Frustrated

I told myself that I wouldn't write another poem about her
So instead i'll write one about how frustrated i am
Frustrated that she lied to me
Frustrated that she's happier with me gone
Frustrated that when she isn't tearing out my heart and spitting on it, she's still so fun and friendly and attractive
Frustrated that the one upside of losing her was escaping the judgmental attitude that she suddenly dropped anyway
Frustrated that i used poetry to get over her and now she writes more than me
Frustrated that so many people love her and no one loves me
Frustrated that she still pretends to care
Frustrated that i ever believed her
Frustrated that i know i'm lying when i say i don't miss her any more
Frustrated that she barely had to think it over
Frustrated that other men are touching her
But this isn't a poem about her
It's about my frustration.

Dear Empath,

You think with emotions,
I feel with logic,
We've never seen eye to eye,
But if empathy is your specialty,
Why can't you see all my misery?
and why do you take your rage out on me?
what do you gain by spreading this pain?
or is it in vain that you drive me insane?
I know that you're scarred,
but you think only your life is hard?
Look closely and see, i too have been marred.
You were so kind when we met,
you were the only one
and lately my life has not been much fun.

Breaking Writer's Block

I've not written in quite some time;
no stories, or poems, or even a rhyme.
All the common excuses float through my head;
i've had no time and my muse must have fled.
Yet i've had time enough to wish i could write,
so the calender's not the source of my plight-
and here's my muse now, galloping by,
but it seems that still i can't meet her eye.
So what is blocking my hand from the page?
Why do i feel my thoughts trapped in a cage?
Now i feel the answer looms near,
finally i see him, my nemesis; Fear.
I hold the key to set my thoughts free
but there is something inside I choose still to hide.

Three Years

Maybe if i spend three years
writing down every moment we've shared
i can finally capture this feeling.
The feeling only you can give me.
Then i can share it with the world,
show everyone that perfection is real.
Maybe if the whole world feels the same way
you make me feel
we'll have no more wars, cure cancer, end world hunger.
But that would take three years at least,
and every day without you is so painful.
So sorry everyone, you'll just have to live with war.

On Paper

I won't be happy until i've put you down
      on paper.
Then i can carry you around in my pocket,
If that's the only way i can be with you-
 so be it.

So Beautiful

So Beautiful i'm staying up late trying to put it in words and coming nowhere close
So Beautiful you make a coward ready to take on the world and go on adventures
So Beautiful you make me hate myself
So Beautiful you make me love myself again
So Beautiful it's okay that it makes no sense
So Beautiful i've known you for years and even though every word has been true every minute
     I'm only writing it now
So Beautiful because you understand pain and how to make it go away
So Beautiful because you make the whole world an extraordinary adventure
So Beautiful everyone loves you and you deserve it
So Beautiful because you make me laugh, think, write, act, dance, run, dream, love
So Beautiful because you make me feel funny, smart, daring, clever, energetic, calm, happy
So Beautiful i'd do anything for you
So Beautiful i'm always afraid i'll scare you away
So Beautiful i've used so many words and still come nowhere close