This Is Me

It’s not so difficult to make a man cry, reasons why? Simply because they are human and were born with emotion, so why lie? Statistics show that the majority of women prefer a man who will show his true colours to a man that will put on his macho pants and live another macho day. Personally I find that it is much easier to live a life with a man who holds his hand up and admits when you have hurt him, or when he’s upset, or most importantly when he loves you. Men generally spend the majority of their time complaining about not knowing where they are in the relationship or how they should be moving on with the relationship, leading to a heartbreaking split up. When, quite interestingly, it’s our men who are closed off from the world, when there isn’t an attack taking place and we don’t need to feel safe, be you, be the person who isn’t a macho man on such a constant basis. Also, lesson one on a working relationship, don’t pretend to be somebody you are not, or you will be living out

Every time I see, that girl. Difference in each sunrise. A ray of sunshine. In my morning. After that chilly night. In my naivety - Or my fright. The sway in her legs as She walked spoke of class... Her manicured nails - fragments off glass - From the nights experiences. A sparkle in her eye. The twinkle like a shine In my eye When she smiled. Who am I not to wish her mine? The sun rose with Her each time I picked her. And like the fantasies I Held of me and her. Drops in the horizon each Time I drop her. Into these packages... Many boys at one stop, Halt is the word, may be a longing? Never spoken, never forgotten. All along deceived and naive lust! The veil in my eyes The serpent be she, It all is revealed. In the shield of her eyes... You stare too much. She lied to my smile... Watch the road, My taxi driver! All writes reserved to Kinoti and  Rebecca Bell (Boneata Bell)                                                                        

Sometimes, all you need is one word, To take away the pain, Just one drastic measure, To end the painful game. Sometimes all you need is there, Right beside you, everywhere. Sometimes all you need is gone, Dreams are short, wishes are long. Sometimes all you need is here, But hidden by unwanted fear. Sometimes what you had will go, So it is important, that you know. What you need, may be there, Because what you need, Can be everywhere. Breathe in air. Boneata Bell 17.11.2012 20:34 Copyright applies.

Dirt is ripped through the heart, That used to beat a thousand minutes per second. As Footprints in the sand still beckon, The sand forever lingers from our journeys to the beach, Smiles remembered to the point that a tear would be absorbed, Into skin untouched by the sun, Wasted time, yet seldom a wasted effort, As clocks are methodically ticking in the background, Reminding us that time is finite, and upon it we fought, Unaware until the day that we died. Fiction of ghost and dramatic dreams, Lost in cream, loved well beyond beauty, Words dreamt out, acted as if only a mere play, Crying in torrents for this is a harsh reality. Amidst such frantic efforts to be someone else, While he only wanted me to be myself, But I never could. The ring still rests upon this lonely finger, Even In death we continue to hold hands, I never dreamt, tears would be so few, The emotions spoken aloud by words, Were meant to be from the heart, And that's when I was awoken with a start, Lying next