I can't hear you above the sound of the ocean waves.
I can't see you across the thousands of miles away.
Lie and tell but you can never escape the grave.
You'll go blind if you look into the sun's ray.
Whispered voices hide what they won't tell.
Shouts and calls show a deeper meaning behind.
Listen closely, you might hear the echo of the well.
Watch and learn, so you know how they unwind.
Careful, listen, listen to the ringing of the bell.
See the shells as they are refined.
You will likely be okay, too we say farewell.

-3nwlry

Death isn't sad, not scary.
God blessed people who die.
Earth is cruel and getting worse.
Dying isn't bad, not terrible.
If life is beautiful, why not death?
Giving life also gives death. So why is it so bad?
Being dead is peaceful from what I've heard.
But it's also lonely.
Death is beautiful, happy,
A time for celebration.
yes, they may be gone, but celebrate their life.
Don't mourn their death.
When I die, I wonder,
What will be the cause?
Disease, age, suicide?
I am not worried when I pass,
I don't fear the end.
The unknown will be discovered.
When I die, no one should mourn.
Have a party, not a funeral.
Have a celebration.
Wear white, and colors, not black.
I want my death to be beautiful.
When I say farewell,
I want to be remembered
With smiled on their faces
Not tears.

-3nwlry

Okay all ready!
I feel you all
Suffocating me insane
I'm being drained
My energy flows
Downward
To the lowest of lows
Where lies the pain
That the miserable
Refuse to let go

Empathically
I am cursed
Tethered
To your emotional
Burst
I feel the babies
Crying in the night
My heart spring
Into thoughtless flight
The unrest of the downtrodden
Engulf my weary life

If I could only feel
Without a care
Turn away
And say a prayer
Someone else
I'd surely be
But that's just not
My destiny
...................................
P.S.
So please stop thinking so loud!

I sit here waiting
For my parents to pick me up.
Thirty minutes late
Still, I wait.
Maybe I should walk
I think I know the way.
She said she'd be here.
That was thirty minutes ago.
Now that it's three forty.
I still wait patiently
On the wall.
Staying in the shade,
Writing poems
Of little importance.
I hear cars pass by,
I look up hopefully.
Not seeing the one I know.
My last thought for the poem:
At least I'm not alone.
Boys and girls waiting
For parents to pick up.
Quite very late.
Still, we wait
Some of them give up,
Some of them walk
Not having free parents.
They might be at work
They might be busy,
Either way
We wait for our parents.

-3nwlry

Ghosts and spirits everyday
Ghosts and spirits come to play
Ghosts and spirits come around
Ghosts and spirits seek me out
Haunting my mind with thoughts and words
Spoke have followed to join the game
Some are waiting for the day
If I listen very closely
I hear their plea
To be set free.
The ghosts and spirits of my mind
Have joined with me
To combine.

-3nwlry