u56723_897 - Hello Poetry

I hate looking at my reflection, in the cool, calm river stream. The one we loved to look at, the one that we shared so many warm days at. My reflection is a peculiar thing, a lonely thing. The sun hangs low; reminds me of the days past. We spent our time here, talking, laughing, loving. We would set by the shore, on summer nights, intertwined and watching the stars. When autumn came we laid in the dying leaves, listening to the water flow by, while our love grew stronger. Winter chills tried to cool our love. We set on a bench, bundled together watching the crystal water, as our breath steamed the air. It's spring now. I sit by the river. A chill in the air. I never had to worry about being cold before. I sit here holding a symbol, a symbol that has no meaning. Not anymore. I hate looking at my reflection, in the cool, calm river stream. Because, it reminds me, that you're not here with me.

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Jan 14, 2018

Jan 14, 2018 at 8:22 PM UTC

u56723_897

The River

I hate looking at my reflection, in the cool, calm river stream. The one we loved to look at, the one that we shared so many warm days at. My reflection is a peculiar thing, a lonely thing. The sun hangs low; reminds me of the days past. We spent our time here, talking, laughing, loving. We would set by the shore, on summer nights, intertwined and watching the stars. When autumn came we laid in the dying leaves, listening to the water flow by, while our love grew stronger. Winter chills tried to cool our love. We set on a bench, bundled together watching the crystal water, as our breath steamed the air. It's spring now. I sit by the river. A chill in the air. I never had to worry about being cold before. I sit here holding a symbol, a symbol that has no meaning. Not anymore. I hate looking at my reflection, in the cool, calm river stream. Because, it reminds me, that you're not here with me.

33

Procrastination The fettered beast which we hold in ourselves. Of promises not kept. A cunning voice within, Whispers, “This time is better spent to do not, what is better left for another hour.” “Tomorrow is a better day, is it not?” We fight at first, But honey drips, from its silvery tongue. We loosen our guard. We crawl into the beasts outstretched arms. The smell of lavender, chamomile, of our favorite comforts, permeate our senses. We relax ourselves into it, pushing (or so we make ourselves believe) the thing which we had to do far from our minds. The beast, which bides it time, which has us completely, snaps its jaws shut. Eventually, we escape the beasts grasp. Battered and gasping for air, we struggle to finish, what we once had so much time to do. We swear the beast off. We say, “Never will I Procrastinate again.” Until, one day, we hear the whispers, and smell the scent, that comforting, cloying fragrance, and the beast has us in its grasp, once again.

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Nov 8, 2017

Nov 8, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC

u56723_897

Procrastination

Procrastination The fettered beast which we hold in ourselves. Of promises not kept. A cunning voice within, Whispers, “This time is better spent to do not, what is better left for another hour.” “Tomorrow is a better day, is it not?” We fight at first, But honey drips, from its silvery tongue. We loosen our guard. We crawl into the beasts outstretched arms. The smell of lavender, chamomile, of our favorite comforts, permeate our senses. We relax ourselves into it, pushing (or so we make ourselves believe) the thing which we had to do far from our minds. The beast, which bides it time, which has us completely, snaps its jaws shut. Eventually, we escape the beasts grasp. Battered and gasping for air, we struggle to finish, what we once had so much time to do. We swear the beast off. We say, “Never will I Procrastinate again.” Until, one day, we hear the whispers, and smell the scent, that comforting, cloying fragrance, and the beast has us in its grasp, once again.

34

How Tragic Is A Life Cut Short An Ember put out before the Warmth is felt A Light in the World that shines Never More, Why do You feel the Need The Unperishable desire that can only be Quenched, When Your Light goes out We tell You that People Care But do We not realize You do not See that, You See Only that Dreadful Need To be Lonely is a Curious Thing, The Days are Long and Empty The Nights are full of Shadows and Unescapable Demons Torment. Dread. Damnation. Ever Flowing Near I do Not speak of Those whose Live On, But of Those Who Make The Hardest Choice, The Only Choice To Fight is to Suffer Tooth. Nail. Tears. Better to Not? Why add more Suffering? Then, Who can Blame You When the Only Action You have Is to Take Matters In Your Own Hands But You do Not See Cannot See, How this World Mourns The Loss of Light The Brightest, A Life That Means Everything Look. At the Beauty Listen. To the Music Live. For No One Can Live For You, No One Can Replace You. My Greatest Friend, Do You Not See? Life May Seem Pointless, It May Never Seem Like It Will Get Better. But It Must. I Have Felt This. The Encompassing Loathsome Feeling. To Live Is To Feel Pain. Pain Must Not Overcome. Please, Find Me, When The Days Become Unbearable. I Will Be The Stalwart. The Silent. The Confidant. All You Need In The Times When You Need. We Shall Fight This. But Truly, You Shall. For This Light, Your Light, Is My Light, A Mother’s Light, A Daughter’s Light, A Father’s Light, A Son’s Light, A Light To All Would You Deprive Us Of It?

0

Oct 21, 2017

Oct 21, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC

u56723_897

How Tragic Is A Life Cut Short

How Tragic Is A Life Cut Short An Ember put out before the Warmth is felt A Light in the World that shines Never More, Why do You feel the Need The Unperishable desire that can only be Quenched, When Your Light goes out We tell You that People Care But do We not realize You do not See that, You See Only that Dreadful Need To be Lonely is a Curious Thing, The Days are Long and Empty The Nights are full of Shadows and Unescapable Demons Torment. Dread. Damnation. Ever Flowing Near I do Not speak of Those whose Live On, But of Those Who Make The Hardest Choice, The Only Choice To Fight is to Suffer Tooth. Nail. Tears. Better to Not? Why add more Suffering? Then, Who can Blame You When the Only Action You have Is to Take Matters In Your Own Hands But You do Not See Cannot See, How this World Mourns The Loss of Light The Brightest, A Life That Means Everything Look. At the Beauty Listen. To the Music Live. For No One Can Live For You, No One Can Replace You. My Greatest Friend, Do You Not See? Life May Seem Pointless, It May Never Seem Like It Will Get Better. But It Must. I Have Felt This. The Encompassing Loathsome Feeling. To Live Is To Feel Pain. Pain Must Not Overcome. Please, Find Me, When The Days Become Unbearable. I Will Be The Stalwart. The Silent. The Confidant. All You Need In The Times When You Need. We Shall Fight This. But Truly, You Shall. For This Light, Your Light, Is My Light, A Mother’s Light, A Daughter’s Light, A Father’s Light, A Son’s Light, A Light To All Would You Deprive Us Of It?

62

Inspiration Pure and Just, Swiftly Comes Thoughts of You Thoughts of Us, Tussled Sheets Tussled Hearts, Twined within Us Twined with Art Terrible Seasons Terrible Nights, Tore the Heartstrings Tore Us, Took the Light Took my Sight Inspiration Pure and Just, Briefly Lasts

0

Oct 18, 2017

Oct 18, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC

u56723_897

Inspiration

Inspiration Pure and Just, Swiftly Comes Thoughts of You Thoughts of Us, Tussled Sheets Tussled Hearts, Twined within Us Twined with Art Terrible Seasons Terrible Nights, Tore the Heartstrings Tore Us, Took the Light Took my Sight Inspiration Pure and Just, Briefly Lasts

18

Fading dusky dawn Echoes of night to end, That move earthly spawn And cause utterings to send. None know what before them lay Save High in the beyond, To infringe upon the day And witness what dawned.

0

Sep 30, 2017

Sep 30, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC

u56723_897

Morning

Fading dusky dawn Echoes of night to end, That move earthly spawn And cause utterings to send. None know what before them lay Save High in the beyond, To infringe upon the day And witness what dawned.

8