sarah-bunce
Fav. Quote- The Eye That See's, Cannot See Itself. / I have never really been all that into poetry, but Ive always been a very strong and unique writer. It's just something that comes very naturally to me, like taking in a breathe of air. A very genuine portion of myself which I am able to share with those around me.
It's been so long,
Since the last time I wrote.
It feels as though I've forgotten,
The tempo of a note.
A simple rhyme,
To bring out a chime,
An interest from inside.
Trying to find my inner peace,
To write a sentence at the least,
Yet distracted by the one I love,
Who giggles beside me with a grin so smug.
I tell him to be quiet just for once,
So he goes into the kitchen and begins to hum.
Microwave door shuts, and then a buzz,
He's making food,
For The Love Of God!
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 12:54 AM UTC
Time is ticking,
Time almost up,
Soon to be mommy,
To a handsome son.
It feels like forever,
Since our journeys begun,
But soon I may meet you,
And forever will have gone.
Our time will start over,
With every coo out your mouth,
Time is still ticking,
It's just a little faster now.
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 12:35 AM UTC
What can you find lurking in the depths of the night?
Hidden between shadows of which sicken and fright.
Tapping across the room with an awful means to bite.
Edging all your focus though you'll never see it strike.
Tap, Tap, Tap.
A ring from across the room.
Pay close attention now, or you'll surely meet your doom.
A very eery feeling crosses, sending chills up your spine.
Out of nowhere a realization occurs,
This being is right behind you.
It has been this whole time.
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
For seven months,
My boyfriend, I, and our dog,
Could not find anywhere to call home.
We lived in a box,
One much smaller than your own,
We lived in a camper,
One that must be pulled to move along.
During our seven months,
We endured many of lives lessons.
Many showing us what a cruel world we actually live in.
My boyfriend tried everything.
He even began asking random strangers for a space in their attic.
So many people could care less for our situation.
So many people only saw us as another burden.
The things we would have done for these people.
Like clean up whatever messes they couldn't get to.
So many ways we would have expressed our gratitude.
Yet so many faces turned down a helpless few.
We experienced faces like our own.
Others just trying to make it,
Even in a blistering cold.
We did not have much money,
Nor a whole lot to offer,
But when others needed help,
We tried our best to provide it.
One man with his dog,
Was very accustomed to his life.
He had been living without,
For quite a long time.
He learned to prevail,
And learned his own ways,
By being human to all,
He is alive to this day.
This man gave us a token,
An Obsidian with Hawks Eye.
A necklace he had made,
While finding himself in time.
Though meeting so many people,
We spent quite some time alone.
Reflecting with each other,
On the world we thought we'd known.
As for our box,
A sixteen foot trap.
There had been a leak in the roof,
Since we got it seven months back.
This leaky roof had always been a problem,
That we tried to fix quite often.
But every time it was "fixed",
Sure enough,
The rain would prove us wrong.
The cold of Autumn began to spread,
Soon the cold was our biggest dread.
It seemed the only source for heat,
Was a propane tank and burner, complete.
Its funny the options given aside from death.
Either freeze now,
Or warm yourself while breathing your last breathe.
The heater was lovely,
Giving us reason to move on.
But the leaky roof would prove otherwise,
As the weather sharply turned.
We had carpet in our small abode,
Not too thick but just right.
And in two weeks,
It had rained four days straight,
Carpet soaked, Happiness to shreds.
Two weeks later, the carpet was dry,
Only for the next day to begin with rain,
To our surprise.
Another week and a half of soaked up thrill,
Till my boyfriend came up with an idea,
Trying to raise our frills.
He found some free carpet,
Cut out what he could of the old one,
And laid in some new.
How nice it felt to walk freely,
Not have to worry about wet shoes.
This sensation once again did not last,
We both became ill,
As did everyone around.
Each sickness was different,
But all soon became well.
The only problem was that I was still ill.
Then my boyfriend found a place,
A place we all could call home,
But we ended up staying in our camper,
Another two weeks, too long.
When we finally arrived,
At an actual destination of stay.
I was so overwhelmed,
Just to be somewhere I could walk,
More than four feet.
With a room to put our things,
We briskly unpacked,
The weight we'd been towing,
And at times nearly dragged.
But once the camper was empty,
We began to over scan,
The big lug we had lived in,
For seven months passed.
With one look under our bed,
I knew why I was still ill.
The ammonia from this creature,
Swept throughout with a shrill.
The fungus that grew here,
Would overwhelm the deepest of Hells.
And even after finally seeing it,
I cannot believe this is where I had dwelled.
For seven months,
We had lived there.
Called that camper home.
It's been one week since we've left there,
Still sick but finally feeling like we're Home.
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 5:14 AM UTC
Minutes walk passed,
Hours begin to run,
Soon the days are sprinting by,
Just to notice nothings been done.
Weeks are over,
Next a month,
Wherever did the time seem to run?
There were plans,
So many forgotten.
Things I meant to do last week,
Have all but blown up.
What happened to the time I once had?
Life is just moving way too fast.
Bills have piled up,
Money is tight.
I don't see Christmas coming this year,
Or even next year, to be right.
Minutes have taken off,
Hours without a trace.
Now all that's left,
Is to dig myself a grave.
Too bad we've all turned to must,
I would have had a nice time digging up dust,
Time flew by us all,
Even before digging our own hole.
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 4:06 AM UTC
Its been what seems forever,
since the beginning of the Red Bandana.
A noble blessing,
Passed down from generation to generation.
A solid promise.
A knowledge that his family and mine will stay protected.
A great significance which brings guidance,
And supplies each carrier with the confidence,
To stand up for his brothers and strike righteously.
Red Bandana,
Make me Strong.
Guide me through,
These Deadly walks.
Red Bandana,
Provide me Courage.
Help me walk the strongest currents.
From the beginning you have guided,
Proved each rival what I fight with.
Each step taken,
Forged from your making.
A warrior in the streets awakened,
To live long and prosper well,
With my Red Bandana always hanging.
Red Bandana,
Treat me with Honor.
Take care of Mi Familia,
I trust you will never Blind me.
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 3:49 AM UTC
You are older than me.
By about a month it would seem.
Older than me,
And persistent in teaching me.
Though you are older than me,
You are not always the brightest,
Not always the wisest.
But being older than me,
You know how to protect me.
And appreciate my greed.
My voice of solid reason,
The clarity I need.
You are older than me,
And you know it,
You've been prepared for all I need.
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC
A cell is a perfect piece,
To the puzzles we see.
All that is made around us,
Each to their own degrees.
Its the little things in this life,
Which make us complete.
A whole part of our world,
Justified by a piece.
What were made of is precious,
And taken for granted endlessly.
Remember what were made of.
You and I are the same,
Cant you see?
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
Remember when we were kids?
We'd climb as high as we could in trees,
And never worry about the fall out.
We reached farther for things we wanted,
Farther than we do now,
The world was our playground,
Our jungle,
And i see we've lost our advantage now.
We were once able to believe in the extreme.
If you wanted to be a doctor,
All you'd have to do was believe.
But once we got older,
Life took us by surprise,
Showing us that if you wanted to be a doctor,
You had to bleed out your fees.
The extreme lived among us,
But not like old fantasies,
A gaping grim grotto,
All us kids had believed.
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
With all creation,
Comes responsibility, necessity.
A purpose which drives those to do good, do better.
A turning point for those who have lost,
All meaning in themselves and their abilities to push beyond.
The creation of some thing, or someone.
Each of us, with our own plans in mind,
Has tried at some point,
To create something in recognition of our minds.
This explains the automobile or a plane,
Creations which bring back a thought of,
Well who made it? Or
Who thought of this idea?
The funny thing is that,
Even an idea can be considered creation,
Its not just a life form or a simple statement.
Creation comes with responibility in all its nature,
A reason to strive to do better.
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 5:06 PM UTC