The beautiful heart

She grows into your soul, yet a creative work of God so divine. Her beauty infatuating and sublime. I'd sit there and watch her brush her hair as she doesn't realise all that I do. Her love for me grew, strong or weak I can't really decide. But, tis me that was once blessed to have the most beautiful woman by my side. Her brown eyes are always changing its colour and varies to black. She looks in the mirror and can't really see the difference when I tell her that. When you watch her from your soul. You would have her to hold. Women, don't get that all men don't think alike. Some respect the beautiful face they have. Some just think they are glad when they leave during a fight. I sit here and watch the stars and look down at her scars. By far it's easy to love than to hate, I look up at her in heaven as I stare from hells gates. An angel without wings and yet she touches your soul, her lips speak your name and that's an honor. Her warm is better than a sauna. I corner her heart and steal her away. She runs on my mind all night and day. She loves you in ways that can't be expressed in words. She is a woman ambitiousness that hurls obstacles away. Loving her is a great deal in every way, pride sometimes steals her love. Yet, we forget a woman is a gift of God from above. It's easy to love someone and find that beautiful face difficult to love everyday. You start to miss her when she slips away. Now you sit back and wonder where it all went wrong. Using that guitar to play those classic love songs. She isn't around to hear you sing your tune. If you could change the past and wishing you could do that real soon. So a broken heart can't be mended, nor can a mystery be solved without a clue. She can't hear you say I still love you.

Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks

Mummy's birthday

She looks down from the heavens and watches all my sins. I wonder at the time of trouble does she cover me with her wings. I wonder if she remembers the pain I caused her to bring me forth into this world, as my thoughts so hinge on the fact that I was the expected girl. I wonder if she remembers my first steps as she held my hand. I wonder if I lived up to her expectations of how my life she did plan. She feed me when I couldn't speak and nursed me when I cried. I regret I could have been a better son as I cannot change the past for someone who died.  She gave me life and I saw God take her's in return. Angels belong in heaven to see you, I wait my turn. It's been a few years and I'm muscular and strong from the outside. Yet, I weep these years of sorrow on my pillow from my bedside. A mother is a woman who loves you even though you are inside. She thinks about your name and how special you'd be beside her. You're her cure for any sickness and disease. She smiles when she does see me. I was a child but held her close when she cried. Now that you're gone who's there to hold me tight? She'd ask me where I'd been and who my new girlfriend was. Alas! She knew and yet the truth she did make me spill. She saw me slit my wrists and asked if I was mad. I laughed out loud and said I was sad. I didn't think about and how much pain she felt. I now weep on bended knees and thank her for all my trouble she had dealt trying to raise me. Her love so effervescent and abundant like the river it does flow. I wish you were near me to hold you once more. I wish you could see me now, all grown up and free. But I'd give anything to have back my mummy. Well I wish these poems fly to heaven, as stupid as that sounds. Well it beats the feeling of pain knowing you aren't around. From the ground we were taken and to it shall we return. I might not be in heaven for my good deeds I haven't earned. I have learnt to live without you and I think that is but a lie. My heart aches knowing you are in your grave looking up at the sky, blue and sometimes grey. I miss you so much I put your picture away. So maybe one-day you'd know, I miss you so, and when I have the words to say just like today.  I'd say something more than just mama, happy birthday.

Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks

I'm jealous your happy without me

I'm jealous of the rain, that falls upon your skin. It's closer than my hands have been. I'm jealous of the wind, that ripples through your clothes it's closer than your shadow. Cause I wished you the best of all this world could give. I'm jealous of the nights that I don't spend with you, I'm wondering who you lay next to. I'm jealous of the love, love that was in here, gone for someone new, as I sit here reminiscent of the haunting memories of you. I'm jealous of the sunrays that makes you radiant and beautiful to behold. Yet, I admire that beauty till the time I grow old. I'm jealous of the way your smile is no longer mine. It belongs to someone who I hope respects you all the time. I'm jealous of the pillow that gives your head comfort while you rest. While I lay in an empty bed and bare chest, without your head upon it to be placed. I'm jealous of your mirror that sees your reflection all the time. Your make-up wasn't alot, but I wish I could stare at you till you ask me what? And I look away always smiling and hurt. I'm jealous of your comb that brushes through your hair. As my fingers once did when I was there. I'm jealous of his hands that get to touch your face. I used to do so after our warm embrace. I'm jealous of your lips that speak volumes of wisdom all the same. Yet, they don't bear my name. I'm jealous of your ears that listen and eve's drop on the conversation of a few. But will never  again get to hear me say I love you. I'm jealous of the ring you wear upon your finger. You used to fit your fingers in between mine when we were on the right track. Alas! I was young, stupid and wisdom I did lack. But when I left you and let you go I always thought you'd come back, and tell me, that all you found was heartbreak and misery. And today, its hard for me to say this so free, I'm jealous of the fact that your happy without me.

Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks