la-toya-martin - Hello Poetry

My skin settles with the evening skies It dwells in the darkness of night In the morning time, it awakes Still in its beauty -LaToya Martin

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Jun 1, 2021

Jun 1, 2021 at 5:59 PM UTC

My Skin

My skin settles with the evening skies It dwells in the darkness of night In the morning time, it awakes Still in its beauty -LaToya Martin

5

He went on and on about his childhood About how he walked miles to school barefoot in snow Oh how we chuckled to his many stories Grandpa spoke about where he and grandma first met He rambled about life And how the news was so important to watch How saving money was mandatory And material things wasn’t I remember the smell of his homemade biscuits baking in the morning Long before the rooster crowed He attended his garden faithfully as if resting was a sin Grandpa’s words were heard miles away Even if he spoke in silence As a child he didn’t have presents for Christmas So he explained that we should be thankful Even if nothing was wrapped with a bow and given as a gift I remember as he sat in his recliner And his gray hair shimmered under the lights And how all of us kids would laugh when he and grandma argued This year will be different Now it’s our time to reminiscence about him He has decided to finally rest Because Grandpa won’t be here this Christmas -LaToya Martin

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Nov 29, 2020

Nov 29, 2020 at 4:49 PM UTC

This Christmas

He went on and on about his childhood About how he walked miles to school barefoot in snow Oh how we chuckled to his many stories Grandpa spoke about where he and grandma first met He rambled about life And how the news was so important to watch How saving money was mandatory And material things wasn’t I remember the smell of his homemade biscuits baking in the morning Long before the rooster crowed He attended his garden faithfully as if resting was a sin Grandpa’s words were heard miles away Even if he spoke in silence As a child he didn’t have presents for Christmas So he explained that we should be thankful Even if nothing was wrapped with a bow and given as a gift I remember as he sat in his recliner And his gray hair shimmered under the lights And how all of us kids would laugh when he and grandma argued This year will be different Now it’s our time to reminiscence about him He has decided to finally rest Because Grandpa won’t be here this Christmas -LaToya Martin

26

Sold for what she wasn’t created to be Given for the pleasure of another Oh how pain is now her newfound love Beaten by the hands that constantly degrade her Forced to love those same hands Wants to give up But struggles for her children Oh, dear Rebecca Thrown away into tomorrow’s day Seeing a future that can’t be visible Oh how she once admired the sun But now angry at its rays For it despises her skin Here today But wishes she was gone tomorrow Ready to meet the God Who left her, she claims Now hanging from the same tree Her grandmother once owned Now a breeze of the field Finally released and allowed to return home My Dear Rebecca

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Nov 29, 2020

Nov 29, 2020 at 4:44 PM UTC

Rebecca

Sold for what she wasn’t created to be Given for the pleasure of another Oh how pain is now her newfound love Beaten by the hands that constantly degrade her Forced to love those same hands Wants to give up But struggles for her children Oh, dear Rebecca Thrown away into tomorrow’s day Seeing a future that can’t be visible Oh how she once admired the sun But now angry at its rays For it despises her skin Here today But wishes she was gone tomorrow Ready to meet the God Who left her, she claims Now hanging from the same tree Her grandmother once owned Now a breeze of the field Finally released and allowed to return home My Dear Rebecca

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You knock and knock But I can’t let you in My home is unclean There's mountains of clutter from head to toe I constantly stand in filth and dust I hear you knocking But I'm too ashamed to let you in Why do you continue to knock? Why don't you believe no one's home? Aren’t you tired? You have stood there for so long So I finally cleaned my cluttered home And I answered my door And there stood Jesus Patiently waiting for me to let him in -LaToya Martin

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Nov 29, 2020

Nov 29, 2020 at 4:41 PM UTC

Neighbor

You knock and knock But I can’t let you in My home is unclean There's mountains of clutter from head to toe I constantly stand in filth and dust I hear you knocking But I'm too ashamed to let you in Why do you continue to knock? Why don't you believe no one's home? Aren’t you tired? You have stood there for so long So I finally cleaned my cluttered home And I answered my door And there stood Jesus Patiently waiting for me to let him in -LaToya Martin

16

My child Still gone Lord, where were you? Why is my breath so important Was his breath not? Living is now a curse My shadow now criticizes its light Empathy from others I consider pain Hugs are just a constant duty Why do I awake? Why does morning care? And how night pampers me but my bed resists Stress is now my companion Oh how it comforts me during restful nights My child Still gone

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Nov 29, 2020

Nov 29, 2020 at 4:37 PM UTC

Grief

My child Still gone Lord, where were you? Why is my breath so important Was his breath not? Living is now a curse My shadow now criticizes its light Empathy from others I consider pain Hugs are just a constant duty Why do I awake? Why does morning care? And how night pampers me but my bed resists Stress is now my companion Oh how it comforts me during restful nights My child Still gone

16

I love you But yet I hate you You are the hope of my future You were my guidance in my past My father despised you But my mother adored you You were her will to live You were a constant guest in our home You were the scent my mother wore daily She neglected me for the happiness of you She confided in you But your greed took her away After all the hurt and pain you caused I welcomed you back into my life But now you are my foundation I finally see what my mother saw in you You helped her cope with her wounds Even though you helped cause them My family doesn’t understand you And honestly nor do I You’ve ruined my past And I have acknowledged That you have ruined my future You are the end of my tunnel My Whiskey Bottle -LaToya Martin

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Nov 29, 2020

Nov 29, 2020 at 4:34 PM UTC

Friend of the Family

I love you But yet I hate you You are the hope of my future You were my guidance in my past My father despised you But my mother adored you You were her will to live You were a constant guest in our home You were the scent my mother wore daily She neglected me for the happiness of you She confided in you But your greed took her away After all the hurt and pain you caused I welcomed you back into my life But now you are my foundation I finally see what my mother saw in you You helped her cope with her wounds Even though you helped cause them My family doesn’t understand you And honestly nor do I You’ve ruined my past And I have acknowledged That you have ruined my future You are the end of my tunnel My Whiskey Bottle -LaToya Martin

26

Gardener, why was I planted here? What did you see? The gardener replied, a little **** from the earth standing with nobody But the sun burns, said the **** When the rain pours, it hurts At times I am buried and feel unwanted by the dirt Don’t you see I’m weak? Many thoughts but can barely speak Oh, gardener, I beg you, please release me I’m not clothed in beauty or appealing to see Wait! Don’t walk on by Don’t you see my pain? No strength, no roots, much loss, much shame All I ask is that you release thee So I can stand with the weeds Who once stood by me The gardener replied, Oh, little **** So well-spoken yet quite demanding I will not release thee because You are withered and burned But yet still standing -LaToya Martin

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Nov 28, 2020

Nov 28, 2020 at 11:57 AM UTC

**** in the Garden

Gardener, why was I planted here? What did you see? The gardener replied, a little **** from the earth standing with nobody But the sun burns, said the **** When the rain pours, it hurts At times I am buried and feel unwanted by the dirt Don’t you see I’m weak? Many thoughts but can barely speak Oh, gardener, I beg you, please release me I’m not clothed in beauty or appealing to see Wait! Don’t walk on by Don’t you see my pain? No strength, no roots, much loss, much shame All I ask is that you release thee So I can stand with the weeds Who once stood by me The gardener replied, Oh, little **** So well-spoken yet quite demanding I will not release thee because You are withered and burned But yet still standing -LaToya Martin

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