The Real Meaning of My Name
Joyful sometimes
Evil hides
Anxious inside
No one here’s her cry
poem by Jean Pullman
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The Human Heart
Half of it hates Half of it loves
Evil spirits try to take it from us
All of us love all of us hate
Reminding us of hell’s gate
Today is a day in which I wait
poem by Jean Pullman
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Be happy
Be happy for you and no one else
Be happy in the way you treat yourself
Be happy for your future
Be happy for your culture
Be happy for who you are
Be happy when life gets hard
Be happy and you will see
That happines can cure everything
poem by Jean Pullman
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Your ways
The way you talk makes me feel good inside.
I just love staring at your eyes.
The way you touch me makes me horny.
I just want to pull you on me.
The way you flirt is so cute.
I love flirting back with you.
There are so many things you do.
That make me keep falling for you.
poem by Jean Pullman
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Thankyou
Thank you babe for entering my life.
Thank you babe for making things right.
I love the way you make me feel inside.
I think about you everyday and night.
My love for you shall never die.
You make me smile when I cry.
You're the best in every way.
That's why I love you babe.
poem by Jean Pullman
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What I'm Feeling Inside
What I'm feeling inside is anger.
From listening to the words of a stranger.
What I'm feeling inside is depression.
Now I'm building up a high tension.
What I'm feeling inside isn't nice.
I want to rip out somebody's eyes.
What I'm feeling insde is a mess.
I just might cause someones death.
poem by Jean Pullman
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You
I don't know why I can't stop thinking about you.
I don't know what it is you do.
I think about you in naughty ways.
I think about you night and day.
I think about you an awful lot.
I think about you in almost every thought.
I think about you all the time.
I think about you and don't know why.
poem by Jean Pullman
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Friends
Friends will stick up for you, not put you down.
Friends like when you smile, not when you frown.
Friends treat you respectfully, not call you names.
Friends are always truthful, they don't play little head games.
If i had real friends, they would be nice.
But, the people I call friends always bring tears to my eyes.
poem by Jean Pullman
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My Anger
My anger wants to kill.
My anger wants to spill.
My anger wants to smash a wall.
My anger wants to make someone feel small.
My anger makes me carve my skin.
My anger is locked up within.
My anger is fierce and fatal.
My anger isn't stable.
When my anger is out stay away.
Because my anger destroys everything in its way.
poem by Jean Pullman
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Confused
I am confused with love and fear.
I am confused with the taste of my tear.
I am confused of where I'll go.
I am confused of what I'll know.
I am confused of whos my family.
I am confused of what makes me happy.
I am confused by what I do.
I am confused of what's true.
I am confused by your touch.
I am confused oh so much.
poem by Jean Pullman
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