Jonathan Maldonado

Beautiful baby sister
how you have bloomed.
long was the winter before the spring
I noticed the slightest resemblance
...

I AM

I am nothing you see and everything you dont
I am a forced smile
...

Happiness sweeps like an unsuspected burst of wind.
Love creeps like the undetected eye in the crowd,
So eager to be seen.
A shy flexing of the lips Whenever our glances intersect.
...

Maybe,
Maybe things will get better
Maybe things will get worst
Maybe a new year will bring forth new cheer
...

Only yesterday
I stared up at a big world,
with awe struck eyes
Only yesterday
...

I never knew what love could do
Until I laid my eyes on you
Beyond the surface of such a pretty face
And past the grace of such a curvy waist
...

Ignorant
Mindless
Prejudice
Envious
...

If your glass is empty
Let me fill
If your soul is lost
Let me guide
...

Can I speak my mind?
Beyond its deepest thoughts,
past the grandest canyons imagination can construct.
Over the tallest of volcanoes about to erupt.
...

apologies for all the lies I ever told
You see I didn't know that honesty even at its most brutal is better than the whitest lies
I realise, I'm sorry.
...

Give me peace of mind so divine one can search a life time to never find, but in a dream my slumber brought the answer to this sleepless thought: do we live, or do we not? To think of all the worldly things flaunting the pyrite prize it brings undermining, insidiously clipping off our angel wings...
...

My heart sinks
When my head thinks:
She's beautiful in every way... Do you love her? (I think) , I think I just may.
My eyes open wide
...

She is beauty surely, truly,
Though she disagrees.
Still I tell her night and day,
Till she does believe.
...

I hope he treats you well
I hope he holds your hand and comforts you, it's all that you deserve.
I hope he finally sees his prize
Inside your eyes, as did I.
...

The story teller tells his stories.
All are intrigued by his silver tongue and creativity, a beautiful mind indeed.
The story teller tells his tales,
adventurous journeys into unknown lands, melancholic farewells along the way.
...

Loves kiss can be so bitter,
can be so sweet, can redeem and can defeat.
A gambling of hearts; a deadly game,
but not to play is surely death
...

Passerby's pass me by
Not a nod nor a 'hi'
...

It boils in the pits of your stomach, a genocide, a massacre of the butterflies she once gave you; the smell expelling from them rottens your thoughts.
Thoughts that haunt your conscience: 'Where was she,
...

In a midnights summer dream she came to
me......

and I begged for her to stay but,
...

Her eyes of honey and hazel captured my heart without asking she took me,
without moving she shook me and
I long to feel her touch.
Her smallest caress
...