I listen as you enjoy your time,
Cackling as you drink your wine,
The gossip flowing from your lips,
Is enough to sink the heartiest of ships.
Tag: Poet
BFF.
It’s a rather lonely existence,
To be kept at a distance,
Watching as people go on,
Feeling like your wrong.
Effortless as they lead,
Tales of wonder and mead,
A perfect life without you,
The sad one who feels blue.
Read More »The tale of Scatter Brain Jane
Scatter Brain Jane has something wrong inside,
Her head is a giant jumble that she tries to hide,
As you pass by her outside on the street,
She looks so normal as she smiles to greet.
Read More »We choose hope.
How many times will you say the word no?
Should we beg and plead in order to go?
It Is this relationship working for us?
Remember the times you made such a fuss?
New Tomorrow?
It feels as though I let you all down,
The grey cloud above the perfect town,
A caterpillar who won’t become a butterfly,
Silent nothings that haunt your battle cry.
Patches of frost on newly bloomed rose,
A tiny hole in your beautiful new clothes,
The ugly duck in a lake filled with swans,
Decaying rust that muddies antique bronze.
Stalker.
Lurking in the shadows,
Keeping her on her toes,
Waiting patiently to pounce,
She will feel him trounce.
Slithering from a distance,
He has a ton of persistence,
The perfect moment will come,
She will have to succumb.
The Darkness
The bus drives down an empty street,
A man staggers home with two left feet,
Blue lights twinkle in the far distance,
As the woman wonders about her existence.
The Green Monster
The green monster rears its giant head,
Emerging from the depths for bloodshed,
Consuming every obstacle in its path,
Until all that is left is sheer wrath.
Why is everything so easy for others?
All I can do is hide under the covers,
Why am I constantly being disregarded?
Stuck with a mind that’s being bombarded.
The Autumn Trees.
As she sits on her chair watching the leaves change,
The feeling of joy seems somewhat strange,
People below are always to busy to notice,
Its beauty is being appreciated by the poetess.
All she can see is the magnificent autumn trees,
How they dance in the slightest hint of a breeze,
The road below her is busy and congested,
But when she stares out she always feels rested.
Fear becomes Reality.
Stiff and broken the tree falls in the river,
Dead silence comes with a silent quiver.
A vast nothing with no one to mourn,
To be depressed or to feel torn.
There’s no one left in the world to fear,
No need to cower at every strange noise I hear,
Or the terror that comes when using my voice,
Almost as if I want to stand up and rejoice.Read More »
