Every day is a constant struggle
Between reaching out and holding in.
The desire to touch, to feel your skin
For you, I commit sin.
But in the end I know I cannot
You've moved on, and I, you've long forgot.
Then why, I ask myself do I sit here,
And allow you, in my head, to appear?
The loves long gone and the feelings have ran out
But at the sight of you my heart still scurries about.
It's because you and I, my dear,
Had grown so near,
And by leaving, you've ******* me in the rear.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
There once was a boy who loved the moon,
He wasn't liked the rest.
For him, the girls would swoon,
Devotion proved a test.
The girls would come and go,
All with broken hearts.
"I hate you, boy" he said, "I know",
Bluntness was his art.
Then she came and made him feel,
He knew it'd be his doom.
But when they kissed, it felt so real..
He considered becoming a groom.
Then one day she decided to leave,
The boy didn't know what to do,
Without the girl he couldn't breathe.
He thought she felt that way too..
Finally one night, he figured it out,
But it wasn't something to boon.
He was sure, without a doubt,
She was the girl who loved the moon.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
If people were books, she would be the velvety red hardcover with a cursive, golden font slowly accumulating a fine layer of glistening silver dust onto the highest oak wood shelf in the oldest library around. Few would ever get to see her beautiful cover, the elegant golden casing on each of her pages, and even those who were privileged enough to lay eyes upon her pristine binding would shy away from the read, out of fear for the length, depth, and density of the words artfully casted into her pages. Very few could comprehend the journey on which they'd embark by opening her cover, and none could see past the artful yet innocent deceit of her forward. For it told a happy, innocent, and nearly boring story intended to ward the less invested readers off. Often it worked. However, there was one who had the suspicion that between her covers he would find more. So he continued to read, he consumed the stories of averagely happy times and drunken parties, yet as he read he accidentally bled bits of himself into her pages. In return, she revealed to him her darker chapters, full of pain, agony, and depression. He began to understand what had compelled him to continue, not the elegance of the binding nor each pages' golden encasing, but the alluring scripture that was artfully laid into the bones of every page. He read on, and fell in love with the story, he paid no intention to the passing of the seasons outside his room. As long as he had his book, he was absolutely content. Unfortunately, no matter his ignorance of the passing of the seasons, pass they did, until alas he fell upon the last page. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he knew what to do. He reached for his pen, and he began to write. Her final chapters wouldn't be full of pain and agony, instead her wrote a tale of love and joy. Together forever, him and his book.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
The first sip was sweet, and tasted like Spring
I was invincible, with you at my wing.
Effortlessly, your company would light up my world,
Under the elm tree together, we’d dance and we'd twirl.
I felt so protected, in the warmth of your embrace,
For an eternity, I would press my lips to your face.
Constantly under the influence of your love,
With you, I felt more peaceful than the dove.
Right when I thought the enchantment couldn’t end,
You did took your life, a wound no one could mend.
I awoke the next morning, a throbbing in my head,
And all I could think of, was you laying there, dead.
Oh how abruptly, you had ended our love,
Now crippled, on the ground, lie our little dove.
No longer I danced, too and fro,
Without my partner, I had no where to go.
Nearing the end, along came fall,
And not returned, was a single call.
I left voicemails, every morning and night,
Just to hear your name, was a temporary delight.
The leaves had changed color, and now hit the ground,
And I realized your heart, was not going to sound.
The snow began falling, along with it Winter.
I couldn’t get you out of my head, you mental splinter.
I was no longer drunk, and the hang over was over
All energy was gone, I was drier than stover.
I was done waiting for you, all patience was gone,
Life had been ended, the final card drawn.
Then I realized, while I awaited you, you were waiting for me
From far above, atop the elm tree
Coming to you, I was on my way,
Waiting here was where I had gone astray.
So I reached into my drawer, and pulled out the gun,
Our lover was not over, it had just begun.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
Our Guardians "Stand tall"
Our Guardians reach out to "Break our fall"
Our Guardians are here to "Protect"
Our Guardians deserve our "Respect"
But somewhere along, we've gone astray
And it seems, the life of minorities we pay.
We no longer look up at out Guardians, who we once adored
They look down upon us, creating those feelings we abhor.
Instead of reaching out, and breaking our fall
They bring down the baton, and our rights stall.
Our Guardians were chosen, their duty to protect
But it seems a majority is experiencing neglect.
"Respect your Guardians", says a whisper in our ear
But in the Guardians, we have begun to fear.
Our Guardians are now, creating massive harm
Regardless of whether or not we bear arms.
A man was choked to death in New York
But we must remain calm, we cannot raise the pitch fork.
We must follow the words, of our wonderful King
From hill to hill, let freedom ring
Our Guardian's freedoms, we must respect
And urge in return, ours they protect.
To end racism, and bring on equal rights
We must use our voices, it is pointless to fight.
Looting and rioting, we will see no achievement
We must peacefully protest, change will come, believe it.
Equality is near, I feel it in the air
Our voices tremble not, I feel no despair.
We are on the verge of righting our wrongs
We look to the Gospel and, in song,
We unite our voices, and bring forth change,
Equality for all, the idea is not strange.
Continue the journey, my brothers and sisters,
Raise your voices, fall not to whispers.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
Life's too repetitive
You know?
We wake,
Shower
Go to school or work
Come home
The same routine
Day in and Day out
Can't help but ask myself
Is this all there is?
So many distant people,
that I'm just passing by
On a rock
In the stars
In an infinitely large galaxy
Is this really all there is?
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
Dear Poets,
I've seen your struggles
I've read your pain
Don't think your scribbles
Have been in vain
Your work is enjoyed but not only me, but many
For your beautiful thoughts, I give my pennies
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
The boy went by Samuel and the girl by Beth
He planned for his future while she awaited her death
Never a likely couple, they put romance to the test
She had cuts on her wrists and a void in her heart
Still, he thought she was gods finest work of art
There were years of love, of picnics and fun
Never would you guess their romance would be done
But he thought he could fix her, rid her of her vice
When he couldn't, he felt his love couldn't suffice
Beth's cuts were deep and Sam's patience, thin,
One more slice and his temper would give in,
She tried to stop but still resisted the change,
She found his love exceedingly strange
It couldn't be taken, and alas she cut
He began stammering in rage, screaming, "WHAT"
He ran to the shed, knowing what he'd find there
And hoisted the axe, high into the air
Sam ran her down and looked her in the eye
And brought the axe down, screaming,
"If you want to die, die"
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Into the depths of the mirror he would gaze
Trying to find himself through the foggy haze
But the air was thick and it stuck in his throat
So he hit his blunt, laid back, and would ****
His mind began to wonder to the places he'd been
And he remembered how happy he was,
way back then
When the sun would always shine, and friends were always near,
When he had a women who to his heart, was dear
Sophie's laugh could brighten his day
And all the pains of yesterday would go away
They would hold hands and kiss
His life had found bliss
For he had found Sophie
And Sophie was his
He couldn't have guessed,
Sophie wouldn't live to have kids
When the masked monster broke into their house, they both hid
The mask had a quench for blood,
That only death satisfies
Poor Sophie's last love,
Would be her demise
The mans smile was swept from his face
As he realized the darkness of the place
For where he was, there was no sun
He reached across the table and pick up his gun
And just as the mask had done to Sophie,
He took a life, the finest trophy.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC