My Untitled Poem

My Sleep went well,

Waking up to the sun

when stars disappear to the other world.

Twirling through the past when death

promise that this will be my last,

My last to say I love you ,and my last

to say good-bye.

I love the world and it's children,

I love you and your warm touch, and

nothing can't stop me from missing you this much.

I never get tired of every conversation we have, and

I remember every moment that led you to cry on my shoulders

when ever I tell you about my past.

Forgive me for my actions and please don't make this a quick reaction,

I am fine now, no blood as not been shed, and no tears has been drained

you are the reason that saved me...

This is my untitled poem... my feelings has been printed on paper so 

always remember that I am part savior.

By: Christian Manzanares

Reason: Thoughtful not thoughtless

April 7, 2010

(My Improved poems)

Calling Up The Sun

Night is my time to sleep and dream of the worse, and

The morning is when I awake from the nightmares that kept me scared,

Wake the morning quick! I cannot sleep with this beast,

And I shout in my dreams and I couldn't open my eyes to see!

Wake the morning up!

I shouted out loud to let the sun know

I needed its light more than it can show.

I leap off the edge out of the darkness and fall into the twilight zone

Waiting for the sun to fall into my face.

I rise from my slumber and count my deaths in various numbers

Keeping count of the nightmares that kept me from calling out the.... sun.

By: Christian Manzanares

Reason: Nightmare sinks into my head.

March 23,2010

Grandma is Sleeping

My brothers please don't cry,

It's just grandma sleeping in her comfy box.

She is rested so don't be arrested in your own sorrows,

She'll be in our dreams and walk behind our shadows,

and shine in the sun tomorrow.

When our day comes we'll be sleeping in our own boxes too

and be with our relatives who slept pass through.

So don't worry, Grandma is just sleeping and don't bother her. =)

By: Christian Manzanares

Reason: Felt the sadness in me.

March 23, 2010

Rested Heart

My Life has been through so much,

so little with lots of puzzles and riddles.

My legs are weak may be  crippled,

I will just make this nice and simple crawl without legs if I have to.

Do the same every day and every week. This makes me sick 

now I cant believe in what kept me going. (you)

Sadness kicks in! it's another thing that keeps my eyes red and wet

now I feel less powerful, and less defended also got me offended.

Love is my final thing to offer both words and physical.

I think it's time to give up all this trouble,

My sick weak heart still dies of this madness

save me... please do save me before my love is less given to the world

keep my promises creed and hold me as my heart is rested 4 now.

By: Christian Manzanares

Reason: Tired of Drama

March 20, 2010

My Last Poem

Summer goes on and drops quickly like the sun,

Dawn rises with light skies,

cold mornings are just like summer midnights,

dreaming of the stars and the moon as they light my path in words,

I am sure this poem are my last words.

Keep me close...
as I shiver with fear that nothing can be said clear and 

lead me to your heart 
so blood will continue to flow using mine,

My poems keep me just fine.

Well tears are the issue I have 
but dying is nothing to fear because after 

I die it's time to shine what's right to make another rhyme 
when I whisper to my children

telling them I will  be here and they'll be mine to cherish for eternity .

This is my last poem I swear... 
(Not really)   :)

By: Christian Manzanares

Reason: Feeling creative

Dedicated to: friends and all the people I love!

A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend;

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears:

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole.

When the night had veiled the pole;

In the morning glad I see,

My foe outstretched beneath the tree. 

 By: William Blake

Posted and founded on: March 18,2010