Cover Me.

"In a poem, Me isn't always pertaining to the author directly; rather, he places himself in a person, either fictional or non-fictional, who experienced this situation."

- Maskinao

Cover me,

with your hands, with your grace,

Hold me close and touch my face.

Cover me with your love,
make me feel the warmth of more than a thousand suns.
You'll never have to go away.
Cover me, with your smiles, with your diamond eyes,
with every bit of blue sky there is in heaven.
Over me, over there.
I'll take you anywhere you want to go,
Over hills or mountains, we'll run away from it all.

Run away with me,

from the lights, from the sounds,
we'll pack our things and leave town.
We won't have to think of what they think about us,
We'll live a fairytale wherein we're the heroes,
I'll be the poor peasant and you'll be the princess,
and we'll fall so deeply in love and ever so restless.

Wait, hold on to me,

Don't haste, don't let go.
You're losing faith, from your tears, you show.

We scream and we fight, we cry and we fall.

We stand but we stumble.

You refuse to listen, My reasons you'll never know.

I refuse to understand,

Your pride you won't let go.

Cover Me,

with tears from your eyes,

with hurtful words and white lies.

You tell me, all you want to say.

You shut the the door and walk away.

I stand here, empty and dismayed,

Rain pouring in the beautiful month of May.

Over You, I'll never be.

Over seas and countries,

It's you I'll never see.
Over years and Eras,

It's still with you I'd rather be.

I Remember the times you lied with me,

on the grass, on the floor, on the table, and behind that door.

remembering the times we danced in the rain,

and we acted like we were drunk and insane.

Where are you?

Who are you?

It feels i barely even know.
that person who made me smile the sweetest smile,
and made me feel like i was the luckiest guy.

A May-day Mayday.

Three-tenths of a second. A little out of my mind.
Three weeks and a day, died before the age of nine.
Still the same feeling filled him up, everyday.
Finally dying, in this beautiful month of May.
The siren sounds, and the ambulance came.
The police, the government was all over the place.
Came to carry me out, came to rescue him.
Distress was sent out to the local stations,
but no one answered the call.

In the emergency room, they try to revive him.
every sound of his pulse, weaker and weaker it goes.
Fighting spirit's gone, breathing's undone,
his eyes were shut, and heart's dead.
The poison's seeping in, he's given up.
His hands opened up, and there in his hands lay a piece of paper
he's been holding on to since his collapse.

It said:
"Never was a day, without the thought of thee,
it neared a decade of longing for thee, whence thee never came.
Thy promise of return, i could wait longer no more,
This spirit gave up, and it is all o'er.
Farewell, to thee, spirit will depart."

The lifeline went dead at the sound of the last heartbeat.
The lights went out, the signals stopped.
his waiting has ended, and his soul laid to rest.
All wept in despair, as they covered the body in immaculate cloth.
A moment of silence. A moment of death.

Goodbye, dear boy.
Nine years spent wisely.