Eyes that show you "I will love you forever"
Eyes that tell you “I am smart and clever”
Eyes that say “My love has no end”
Eyes that ask you “Will you be my friend?”
Eyes that show you "I want a lap to rest in"
Eyes that beg you "Please tickle my chin"
Eyes that want to be chosen and cared for
Eyes that stare at the shelter door  
Eyes that remain hopeful as you decide
Eyes that tell you “I will stay by your side
Eyes that say “I’d like space to roam”
Eyes that ask you “Can you give me a home?”
Eyes that beg you “Please pick me”
Eyes that show you how happy you can be!

The young girl
Her hair in a wild swirl.
The cement bench beneath her
The past three hours just a blur.
The freshly dug grave
She was told to be brave.
Her sister lay Six feet under
The girls mind began to wander.
"Who would miss me if I joined her?
Which would they prefer?"
That night her mind went wild
Of course she had to be the foster child.
She found some rope and put it to use
The young girl made a noose.

When I was Five,
My mother told me I was loved
Years later, she loved me with her fists
For I was the vessel for her to re-enact the scars left by her step father.

When I was Ten,
My Foster Father told me I was the son he never had
Years later, I was the son he never wanted
As my “Real” Family was weeds to be pulled from his garden.

When I was Fifteen,
My friends told me I was there for them.
Years later, they would all abandoned me in my time of need.
What a Gullible and Naïve teenager I was for thinking friendship was a two way street.  

When I was Twenty,
The love of my life, Told me that I was worthy of love
Years later, she would tell me that I was un-lovable
What a fool I was to over look my obvious character flaws.

So, I’m sorry for not having faith in us,
For doubting your intentions, endlessly questioning you
When you told me that you wanted to marry me because
I didn’t want it to wind up years later.

A dog shouldn't spend it's life in a cage,
Where even a week can feel like an age.
Sad and alone, not knowing when it will end,
Wishing and hoping for a new human friend.
But thanks to every volunteer's donated time,
And every donators dollar, cent or dime,
A new life is given to each beautiful pooch,
A new family to love, cuddle and smooch.
So thank you to everyone, your kindness is rare,
We thank you so much, for your help and your care.

~ Written for the Oahu SPCA

Bubbles
I see bubbles
I see them rise from my hands as I stand surrounded by the sun's warm embrace.
I hear my brothers call to me from the garden.
As they play I am in awe of the beauty of their innocence
Or rather, what’s left of it.
Both have pulled through hell to find a place where, as children, they can truly belong.
A home.
My home.

A home is not physical
Yet you can break it.
It is something you can build
Yet you can’t destroy it.
My home is open to all
And by all I mean anyone willing to open their own to me.
A home can be broken, but never destroyed
Because a home is the bond you hold with those who need you
And that, is the strongest thing known.

She sits all alone,
on a small wooden chair.
Lost and confused,
wishing someone would care.

So many homes,
in just the last year.
Her little heart breaks,
as her eyes fill with tears.

All that she wants,
is a place to call home.
With someone to love her,
and parents of her own.

She doesn't mean to act up,
but she just gets so scared.
By the looks and the stares,
from the children she's paired.

She doesn't have any friends,
and she's to young for school.
Just a scared little girl,
on a small wooden stool...

Hello all my wonderful friends and talented poets, I am seeking advice on the following poem. I find it challenging to edit. Thank you all, for your help in advance.


Lost, and no one is searching.
Not for me,
                   definitely not,
I'm just an "Orphan", and so you seem to see.

I'm scared of the upcoming events.
I'm at a loss for words that are heavy—lead...
Leaflet
of page flips,
a collection of what I can't prevent.
I, it's my expense.
~
I, I bend until I break because of things like this.
No one gets it,
No one will ever get this.
People I live with,
Say that I just need to "believe in myself, and be positive",
Again,
They don't get it.

I just write a lot; I just write...
I have a lot on my mind.
I hate the idea of moving.

The sight,
of a suitcase makes me go blind.

I wish I could spill my eyes
~ like ink ~
There are words I need to write, words have become a monster in my life, crawling up my spine, like waves, ebb, and flow - walls of wakes. I'm drowning in this lake, the weight pressed against me—the cracked skull, and my peeling
mind,
Nothing feels right,
they're all I can think
~ of, words, words enough to make me sink.
Into my hollow chest deep,
and empty.
But inside
my lungs find
a return together, and my diaphragm
fighting—like the closing mouth of a dying-clam.

So far away,
To a University
and Dorm-room stay,
I'm quite a fog, no definition-no importance—I fade
In the grey.
I fade away, every **** day.
Take it all away?
Silly me...
"No, stop being negative", they will say.

It feels like another Foster home,
I just want to go,
disappear - collapse into the undergrowth.
But inside I've never been so low.
Famished, insatiable, and ravenous, the beast still grows.
Chewing through what I've created for you,
To -
Just cut my tongue, and slice my toes
trying to hold.
On to the walls as they slip from my fingertips,
I fold.
Into my brain - filled with holes.
Into myself, a mystery—a candle melting without a flame, a game, that gets dull, and so old.
I've lost again, on this, I've been,
'Ashton' without
a doubt,
My words, I know -
My words know,
no woe.
Losing your interest, I'm only a muddled groan.
A man who is such a child, has to find a way to become grown.

I've no certainty,
Certainly, I cannot keep...
What I cannot see,
I cannot see where I'll be,
Who'll stay? Nobody?
Who would want to stay in my life?
No one needs to say that I,
have become a joke,
and as I choke, I know,
I'm not funny...
~
Nobody?
Not even me.

Hey,
I guess it's okay?
They don't stay.
It's always been the same.
My mind's leaving me.
Nothing will ever change.
All my life, I've been drifting, deranged. Slowly, I fear that I may
never find a refrain ~
That I'll love to be in this state
of mind, so insane.
—They never really did, and slowly,
Through my fingers, they...
Slipped.
Away.
From me,
and my weak grip, white knuckles behind the bleed.
- I wouldn't lie, I tried -
everything...
but it was my weakness that gripped
so I slipped'
like they did.

I guess,
I'm just going to have to get used to this.

I swear, I've been,
Lost, now I'm even more lost when
...I'm searching.
I'm looking
From outside of myself—in.

My ribs open,
I'm an open book, but now, I'm a loose-leaf—dropped with a pen,
~
I, to not be picked up again.

My skin is paper thin,
Go ahead take a look right in?

See what's really inside of me?
That my heart is just too big, to bear its own beat.
Maybe -
Maybe - my wounds will bring you to me?

I have so much love to give,
I cannot keep it contained within.

My heart is exploding,
and I know it...
This life is no longer mine to live.

Why do I feel like this?
Everything is going great, it is.
Yet something is amiss,
I'm reckless, I try, and end up defective.

I feel like I am obsolete.
           and when I fall asleep,
                           I don't even want to dream.
Thinking about more than I can think.
I've been getting better at buying,
The lies between
the pages of a book without a spine - me,
getting better at hiding
that I, I'm just, weak,
I'm obsolete.
Hung up by the seams,
~
A nail in the wall holding me.
A puppet without strings,
The nail has a name, 'PTSD'.
Hang me in the hall,
Watch me drop down, and fall
~
On my face in the heat,
Watch my colors-fade-to-grey
as they blend in the bleed.

A painting of melting color, that drips, and drips,
No worth, I'm worthless...

I'm just that foster kid from the streets.
The one that no one needs,
I don't want to be,
Believe me,
I woke up, and don't want to be me,
I just want to be free.

By: Ash