just a poem

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She
I was an empty shell.
Doomed in a living hell.
Living life like life is lived.
In a black day, looking forward to tomorrow.
Knowing it will be the same as today, the same as yesterday.
Telling myself luck is not meant for me.
Believing there is no better live then what I see.

Until the day I saw her face.
Fighting trough live, fighting for her own place.
I really tried, tried to help her.
But I went to far, and fell.

Tears fell my eyes but I didn’t know why.
A sadness filling me, giving me the feeling I’ll die.
But then she reached out for me.
And with her help I broke free.

With her help I saw my own mistakes.
I saw that my happy moments were all fakes.
She showed me how it is to have something.
She teached me what it is to be living.

She invaded my thoughts.
Every day and night.
And before I noticed,
She had my heart.

The only time I feel safe, is when I see her smile and wave.
The only place I feel secure, is when I feel her.
I have lost myself in her and do not wish to be found.
At her side I wish to be bound.

In my dreams I walk the earth of hope.
Only to be lifted by her cloud of joy.
Floating trough the sky of love.
Diving into the sea of happiness.

My world turns for her, my future is about her.
The time with her I cherish.
Every single day, until the time I perish.
Will her happiness be my only goal.
For I will love her as long as I live.

I can really identify with these words. Wonderful poem, Wilco.

This is a very deep and meaningful poem. It is very good I hope you have more and plan to publish?

You have talant.

Very good poem!

Tim

I have a few more but they aren't good enough to post sorry

maybe this one. it's not very good, and remember people, it's just a poem.

I am a prisoner of my own body.
Warm signals are stopped.
Cold signals are not.
I am a prisoner of my own body.

The eye reflects the soul.
Or so they say.
But my eyes only show pains.
And other’s, show aggression.

The voice speaks small, the body speaks important.
But to the body I am blind.
A conversation is impossible.
So I am left behind.

A touch gives warmth and love.
A touch gives love and happiness.
To me a touch is dangerous and so I flee.
And often get left behind.

Understanding leads to feeling sorry.
Feeling sorry leads to helping out.
So I’m never understood.
And nobody helps ME out.

Of course there is always some one.
Who sees my sorrow and pain.
But they can’t possibly understand.
So their efforts are in vane.

The worst trials ever seen,
That’s what Aspergers have to face.
And they do it all alone.
All of them
Every day
Every night.
Until some one, something understands,
We are prisoners of our own bodies.

nice