You cling to the bars
And hold tight to your chains
Your mind blinded by stars
made by marketing brains

Working and slaving
Never sated, wanting more
Respecting, behaving
Raising your spiritual score

Right now, I am stating
You’re lost on earth at high noon
I shall be watching, and waiting,
from the far side of the moon
It's all a paradigm.
She came to me in a dream
of bones
floating on top of the waters
of a riverbed of death
her cold lips
offered a warm smile
and the promise
of a place better than this
I heard my heartbeat slow
and fade
as I gave into the hope
of drowning
and dropped my bones
one by one
into the peaceful current
of her limbs
and now I can’t remember
my name or my sins
and I am no longer
here or there
but if this dream isn’t lying
I have finally found my home
#dreamweavers
Flickering lights, an unusual fright
Sitting alone
Scrolling through my phone

A curtain shifts in the moonlight
A door creaks closed, a breath of wind
I suppose
Window left open, I'll go close

Wham! the door slams open seemingly on its own
Shattering lights, pitch black
A scream so loud, my mind about to crack
I scamper for a door, futile in my attempt to escape
Black eyes impossibly stand out in a already black house
Fear holds me from releasing a tear
A dark figure, claws twisted, rippling muscle
pure white teeth glistening
Run screams my mind, legs a failing
One step, two steps, three
Looming above me a crooked smile forms on rotten lips
It has me in its grip

Open my eyes, heart rate raised
I feel completely dazed
A nightmare of the crazed
Gripping story of a nightmare similar to one I frequently have, I enjoy narrative poems and I hope you can enjoy these also.
12:43
My mind is droning endlessly
Of words beyond simplicity
Breaking through the earth a tree
Of beautiful leafless poetry
Thoughts?
I miss...

The stroke of soft finger tips
The buzz from touching lips

Like lightning in a jar
I miss the hairs in my car

I long to find a soul again
Break free of all my chains

Not a moment forgotten
Memory's weave like Egyptian cotton

Hairs stand, soldiers on a neck
I've become a ship wreck

Love left me bearing all
I will fight to stand tall

Time will heal this void
My heart far from destroyed

Miss her, I do though.
A couplet poem about a love I have had and all though time has healed the void left from it all, I do find myself missing her at times.
Morning sun rises, here he comes
All night I have waited
Waiting for him to wake from his slumber

He is old, frail in need of company
She left him for a place in the clouds
Never a smile only a frown

I long to say good day
Its lonely on the web
Waiting to snare a bug
On the silken strands I call home

He shuffles his feet along the rug
I watch it all high upon the ceiling
Wishing for a glance upon my web

He never see's me
I see him with all eight eyes
Mr Mccoy, That's what I call him

He makes a cup of tea
I stretch a few legs hoping he will notice
The kettle boils, steam burns my feet
I scuttle to the top as beads form
Like raindrops on silver strings

His tender eyes peer out glass panes
Watching his crop, Old Mr Mccoy
Deep lines mark his face, thoughts of her mark his mind

Eight legs, no way to hug
If only he would see a friend in me

A picture of her, a tear shed
I spin my web, lowering
Closer and closer to his head

"Mr Mccoy ill be your friend!"
No words can I make to fall on death ears
He takes his tea and leaves me be

Tomorrow he might look up
Ill be ready, waiting on my web.
A little story of a spider who just wants a friend.
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