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Fate is a Little Girl

By Javier A. Flores Srraga

Fate is a lonely young girl,

She is hanging unto your coat,
Asking your name, and where youre from.

Fate is only clear to some,

She approaches all that she sees,
Asking herself, why she is being ignored.

Fate is a babe in control,

She grabs you by the hand,
Asking you where you want to go.

Fate is a lonely young girl,

She is hanging your coat,
Asking for her room, and why youre a bum.
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I cannot dance. However you sure will!

What ever could be wrong, my ol pal Oh good friend?

Why do I find you like this, so downcast and sullen?
Was it just those mere words, that caused you to have fallen?
Chin up, good man, its not the time it isnt the end.

Stop sulking m lad, to leave you here moping simply wont do!
Can off-handed murmurs truthfully cut you so deep?
Darn it, silly kid, do you not have pride to keep?
If so, these thoughts start forgettingtheyre making you blue!

So stand up, and get that filthy snot off your sleeve.
Smile wide, and pick that food out from between your teeth.
Look up, theres no reason to search underneath.
Stay strong, dont think for a moment Ill let you leave!
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Joys I Might Have Forgotten

It showed me things Id otherwise not see.

That neat, dull, black box did so much for me,

I was most happy whilst filled with wonder,

Amazed at what was here, there, and yonder.

In the place where dreams would certainly bloom,

I did it all in that soft, warm, bright room.
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Just One More Week

The bards shall sing of this most fateful day,

In cheery tones itll be henceforth replayed.
A time thatll calls for us to make the way,
Because no further must it be delayed.

Now here it comes, so far, yet coming near,

I might just reach to touch when chance allows.
Its hard to see, but still it feels so clear,
So much that I cant help but awe and wow.

I cant so much as fathom what awaits,

But still I do indeed fill with delight!
Excitement thrives and breeds such lovely fates,
For us to face and act such lovely sight.

This long suspense is fun but just as dry,

Expecting me to sit around so fraught.
No matter just how hard I forcefully try,
The hype is real absurd, that Ive been taught.

That day has made me play the mindless sap,

Yet I dont mind to have caused such mishap.
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Morning

Coffee and my bed

I miss them out in the cold
Trekking to the bus

Cramped, loud, and smelly

This ride always lasts too long
Yet not long enough

The sign makes me sigh

For it foretells of the end
We are almost there

Lurching to a stop
The door squeaks and bags rustle
Good day bus driver

The bus seems bad now

To have brought me to this place
Yet another sigh

The doors come closer

The warmth now seems inviting
Too tired for this now
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My Addiction, My Pleasure

I yearn for your sultry warmth,

I desire your strong taste.
Cant you see that I need you,
Right now more than anything.
Without you I get the jitters,
And cant do much of anything.
You have me spellbound,
I cant get you out of my mind.
I hate when I dont have you,
yet your being is a blessing.
Oh how I wish it were three,
So that we may be reunited.
I hope I never lack you,
Since Ive become dependent.
Sometimes I can scarcely believe,
Just how much I love you.
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Overthinking

Must I keep waiting?

No, Im not complaining.
Its just that this place,
Id much rather erase.
All thats found here,
It should disappear.
Everyone makes way,
For yet another day.
Yet here, its the past,
Which others think fast,
But I found endless,
Despite being careless.
Thats why I dislike,
And wish to unwrite,
The ideas that swirl,
And so stiffly unfurl,
Presenting themselves,
As an obtuse parallel.
It got long-winded,
And somewhat twisted,
But thats the reason why,
I want this place to die.
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Overused Tool
By Javier A. Flores Srraga

I am much like a blade,

Belonging to a fierce fighter.
From simple materials I was made,
And yet he took me, none the wiser.

The warrior uses me deliberately,

Servicing me only when he can.
He relies on me most heavily,
And so failure is never the plan.

I dull from use, bend from stress,

Chip from striking, end up looking a mess.
I am about to shatter, that is plain to see,
But I do not crumble, as he expects more from me.

After bloody battle, there is reprieve.

And much needed maintenance I receive.
I am reforged, from this lifes joys,
For this body has no strength or alloys.

To often am I recalled before I am whole,

But it is inevitable, for I am his sole.
Yet I must hold on, and I do as such,
Because I have a task, even if it is too much.
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Unforeseen Intimidation

Im not sure how I ever came to be here,

in the company of pickpockets, cutthroats, and thieves.
If not for the stories of mischief and glory,
Just a rowdy bunch of youngsters one will see.

This group seem to understand each other well,

And speak in their own little dialect seemingly often.
The way they revel in chaos and anarchy,
It is as if they know not of morals or ethics.

Despite my great size, and even greater experience,

This bunch never ceases to shake me soundly.
How could I not be frightened by their very being,
When they cackle and carouse at such cruelty.

One of these monsters, seemingly the most infamous,

Stands above the others to tell of supposedly amazing accounts.
He told of a once great and dangerous heist,
One so grand and insurmountable that it was the talk of months.

The criminal got so very into his vivid retelling,

With jumps, dives, punches, stabbing motions, and chokeholds.
The rest were thoroughly impresses, and much to excited,
Whilst I could only frown with troubled concern.

These toddlers were truly an unnerving bunch.

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Wache

Why must the past destroy this present joy,

And kill those prospect years that have not been,
The memories are solely what I see,
And not the time passed since that awful day.

These scars remind me not of current strife,

Instead they serve as signs of deep despair.
The empty home I dwell fails to replace,
That warm embrace and bed so worn.

If forced to chose between those blissful lies,

And living out this cruel, disgraceful life.
I know which one would be the one for me,
Despite it being grim and dark a fate.

This life begins to feel much like deceit,

That sadly causes me to be aware,
Of one true fact that causes ardent pain,
And makes me cry and wail in fierce torment.

How can I howl, why must I scream that name,

When all my life they took without regret.
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Wandering Mind, Scattered thoughts

I often gaze out of the window,

Letting my mind fill with questions.
Each time I see a different landscape,
every one a unique new image.
Occasionally Im filled with desire,
But most often they are wayward thoughts.

Such a nice day, is one of my thoughts,

Yet it is the wrong visage out the window.
Could it be that is what I now desire?
Is then among the most asked questions.
Perhaps I want to go into that image,
That of a murky forest, or desert landscape.

What would be the perfect landscape?

Is another one of my many scattered thoughts.
Do others share in such aimless images,
Compelled by the sights beyond a window,
And then arrive to just as many questions?
Hoping to be the only one that does, is a foolish desire.

Somewhere out there is a better desire,

By someone sitting in a mundane landscape,
Asking himself his very own questions,
And formulating his own unique thoughts.
I hope he is also looking out a window,
So that I might at least see a similar image.

If I do come upon the same image,

Will I have actually sated one desire?
Must not simultaneously peer out the window,
And take in with our eyes, the very same landscape?
Shall we then have the same thoughts,
Or ask ourselves the same questions?

Will it even net any answers to those questions?

Is it worthwhile to share that image?
Why do I wish to have the same thoughts,
And are answers what I truly desire?
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Perhaps I just wanted an opinion on that landscape,

That may or may not be outside my window.

I have so many questions, more than one desire.

All from an image, of a beautiful landscape,
Product of my thoughts, as I look out the window.
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Well This Is Awkward

I simply cannot tear my eyes away,

Yet I can neither find words to say.
This is driving me absolutely mad,
And the fact I cannot act is just sad.
I should prevent her the shame,
But I might bring it all the same.
What will she think! Is it too forward?
I feel about to sink Ive been cornered!
Those eyes are on me, shes raised a brow.
Ive looked theres no way out now!
I must say it, before the tension keeps growing!
Pardon me madam! Your lingeries showing!
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Whilst Reading My Wantonly Sadistic Tales

They shall denounce me and my pen as vile,

All the while I read, with the utmost glee.
Their appall does not fail to make me smile.

For cruelty I travel the extra mile,

This shown by the horrors which they must see.
They shall denounce me and my pen as vile.

Tragic that they always fall for my wile,

Though beforehand clever ones surely plea.
Their appall does not fail to make me smile.

I do at least warn them of my cruel style,

And a few weak-willed souls do indeed flee.
They shall denounce me and my pen as vile.

I anxiously wait for them to revile,

They are indeed angered after my spree.
Their appall does not fail to make me smile.

Now all know that I enjoy to defile,

But cannot do much more than disagree.
They shall denounce me and my pen as vile.
Their appall does not fail to make me smile.
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You Are More Than You Believe

Young diamond, you are a shining star!

But not one that should remain up high, so far,
Because you are splendid you truly are!

The gifts you possess, they are among the best!

You might believe not to be up to the test,
Yet I believe it to be true, and that's no jest!

These words I do so boldly declare,

Though many might stop to stare,
Since exceedingly well, I wish for you to fare.

Seeing you so low, it wracks me with anger.

Such charms of yours, no one should hamper,
When even now, theyre a sight of such candour!

I dont only say this no empty praise here,

Well-founded they are, so no need to fear!
What reason have I? Is there need to endear?

These words youll find are sickeningly sweet.

I cannot help but be so wantonly indiscreet,
I always fail, to make my emotions retreat.

Those splendors of yours should be free,

They arent solely for you nor me
But rather, theyre for all to see!