English is not my mother language, so that there are surely many mistakes or grammatical faults... Anyway, I would not say that these three following scribbles are poems although the appearance looks probably like that. These is a kind of catch of my feelings, my thoughts, etc. The beast's villiain All the years created a personality cruel and odious, Never recognized the scream as melodious, As an inner way to say there’s something wrong, Nevertheless being the little girl called strong. Blurred is the mind by playing a different role, Although it’s the only way to keep control. Not being honest with the own real traits Keeps closed the world’s invisible gates. Glorious and bright shining life would be expected And the soul shouldn’t be anymore neglected. The greatest gift would be the honest mindfulness, Launching step by step the inner progress. Feeling human and animated to conquer all badly, Would allow showing the little girl happy and crying sadly. Freedom in creating your character without any suppression Will lead you into a world full of coloured impression. Still hanging in the fog of feeling nothing than pain Makes the little girl to the beast’s villain. The victim wounded and scarred is perfectly hidden, A rescue would make everybody angst-ridden. Lost seems this injured and synchronous malicious creature Not even a brave rescuer blessed with a heroic feature Could stop the current personality degeneration, So it seems the little girl will pass living real imagination. Inner Life Blurred thoughts hesitate to be spoken out to people in a mindless world who would never understand the fraught of significance And their lack of understanding will push her out of the living world and she will be filled with hatred to accept the circumstances in her lonley mind But she will never recognize that the loneliness kills her slowly her soul will be massacred and eated by black evil things Everything in her and about her will be bloody mangled and eaten by little beasts who suck her inner life At the end of the rainbow Black and white without any colour glooms the rainbow over her head The dream of gold of a green little man is far far away Black and white without any colour is the rainbow in her mind The life in black conquered by a beast waits for her at the end of the rainbow in black and white ...in her mind.