rebecca-corbett - Hello Poetry

time travel is real, I spend all my days in the past, always searching for you and the things i could have done

0

Apr 2, 2021

Apr 2, 2021 at 3:32 PM UTC

time travel is real, I spend all my days in the past, always searching for you and the things i could have done

when life gives you a lemon hold it up and say 'this is my lemon' make the best of it that you can it could be exactly what you need don't be disheartened if you perhaps only got one lemon when others got several some people have it easier with all their lemons but it is you who will grow with true lemon character you will have lemon experience that they just don't have you can make lemonade or sit and wait for the fruit to go off maybe soon life will give you many more lemons maybe even an apple

0

Apr 2, 2021

Apr 2, 2021 at 3:30 PM UTC

lemons

when life gives you a lemon hold it up and say 'this is my lemon' make the best of it that you can it could be exactly what you need don't be disheartened if you perhaps only got one lemon when others got several some people have it easier with all their lemons but it is you who will grow with true lemon character you will have lemon experience that they just don't have you can make lemonade or sit and wait for the fruit to go off maybe soon life will give you many more lemons maybe even an apple

12

Where it used to be so cold inside of me, It is now warming up, I'm thawing out, And just like the Grinch at Christmas, My heart has grown a few sizes.

0

Nov 13, 2018

Nov 13, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC

thawing out

Where it used to be so cold inside of me, It is now warming up, I'm thawing out, And just like the Grinch at Christmas, My heart has grown a few sizes.

5

at least i'll always have myself.

0

May 30, 2018

May 30, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC

lonely

at least i'll always have myself.

1

There he sat, in that old leather chair. Shrouded by a cloud of smoke of his own making. A firm grip on his glass, swirling the liquid as if he had all the time in the world. The golden hue of his drink is inviting. He takes a leisurely sip of his drink, allowing time to appreciate the flavour and the warmth that spreads within as it gratifies each corner of his mouth, he swallows almost as slowly. He doesn’t need to look at the clock; he knows it is soon to be his time. His face is weathered and old and it bears no expression that would give insight to his thoughts. The cigarette in his free hand burns slowly and the smoke from it dances off into the air, making it hard to see. A thin clear tube traces from inside his nose, across his tired face and over his ears, it is attached to an oxygen machine that inhabits the corner of the room. He stares lovingly at the photos on the wall across from him, the photos of his daughters and their mother puts him at ease. He is relaxed and calm for he loves them more than can be explained or understood. A smile settles on his face. ‘God bless my three girls' he thinks, his mouth giving way to another drink. He drifts off into the most peaceful of sleeps and his kind eyes close for the last time.

0

Jan 1, 2017

Jan 1, 2017 at 8:36 PM UTC

Dad

There he sat, in that old leather chair. Shrouded by a cloud of smoke of his own making. A firm grip on his glass, swirling the liquid as if he had all the time in the world. The golden hue of his drink is inviting. He takes a leisurely sip of his drink, allowing time to appreciate the flavour and the warmth that spreads within as it gratifies each corner of his mouth, he swallows almost as slowly. He doesn’t need to look at the clock; he knows it is soon to be his time. His face is weathered and old and it bears no expression that would give insight to his thoughts. The cigarette in his free hand burns slowly and the smoke from it dances off into the air, making it hard to see. A thin clear tube traces from inside his nose, across his tired face and over his ears, it is attached to an oxygen machine that inhabits the corner of the room. He stares lovingly at the photos on the wall across from him, the photos of his daughters and their mother puts him at ease. He is relaxed and calm for he loves them more than can be explained or understood. A smile settles on his face. ‘God bless my three girls' he thinks, his mouth giving way to another drink. He drifts off into the most peaceful of sleeps and his kind eyes close for the last time.

1