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Isaac Ward Dec 2018
It was on the train-
When I saw her,
My love, stolen from me,

Broken glass sprinkled,
Like salt in a wound,
And red hot light danced to and fro,

As time crashed down-
With not a pin drop of sound,
I took a step toward her,

She was already dead,
A case of poisoning; lead-
Dark rain for a crinkled dollar or three.
Isaac Ward Dec 2018
"Fight back!",
"Don't take it lying down!",
I frown, as the meaning fades and cracks,
Resistance is more than mounting an attack,

"The wheel will turn.",
"The buildings will crumble.",
I mumble, their disapproval stern,
Resisting is failing to learn.
I have a tumblr now! I share my poetry over there too, so if you like what you see, follow me!
Isaac Ward Dec 2018
I'm gunna be a dad!
And I'll admit, I'm a little scared,
I had never dared or dallied that-
Fatherhood may be my next hat,

My love and I aren't married yet,
Not that I will ever regret,
I'll bet on our love and firmly wait-
With sights on our wedding day,

And to our baby, precious dear,
We await you with joy and cheer,
We promise, we will always adore-
And cherish you, forever more.
Isaac Ward Dec 2018
Crying shadows bleed on my doorstep; lost souls,
Itching and scratching and clawing to cross my threshold,
I promise- It wasn't always cluttered and baleful,
Demons slither to places dank, wet, dead, cold.
Isaac Ward Dec 2018
The kitchen lights are off,
As you come down for a drink,
It's just half past midnight,
And you're standing by the sink.

Outside, through the windows,
You see her watching, lax,
You blink, she disappears,
Then you feel her at your back.

You stand still, paralyzed,
So quick, she grabs you tight,
This shadow is so empty,
Yet she holds so strong tonight.

She runs a finger up your spine,
And chills you to the bone,
As dark as the space between the stars,
She wants to drag you home.
Isaac Ward Dec 2018
Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,
I sincerely doubt I can,
Coffee, more coffee.
Isaac Ward Dec 2018
I won't tell me kids about Santa Claus,
And you might ask "Why?", because-
Like the Easter Bunny and Jack Frost,
You lied to your kids.

You meant well, I assure you,
And convinced them of wishes and miracles too,
And things falling out of the sky so blue,
But none of it is true.

Now, we all decieve ourselves a bit,
And believe in the ritualistic skits,
And pray, or wish, or write a list,
But logically, its all horse spit.

So when my kids look under the tree,
For their generic winter holiday gifts,
They'll see it came from dear old dad,
And at that, their spirits can lift.

"But why," you ask, "won't you tell them about Santa?"-
As you look at me like i've grown an antler,
And I'll take a breath, and let it out,
And try to contain what I ought to shout,

The poor and the needy are-
Abused by the greedy,
And the evil corporate overlords too.

They can't afford fancy presents,
They're living like peasants,
Its a state of modern serfdom, yet to you-

You buy phones and new games,
For your kids, with no shame,
And they think nothing of Santa when-

The poor kids might get socks,
And go outside to kick rocks,
And wonder why Santa hates them.
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