Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Sep 6 Antonia
Emma Peters
No matter what I do
The loneliness comes in
She peeks through the window
And lifts up my chin.

No matter what I do
The loneliness is there
She looks at me sadly
And doesn’t seem to care

No matter what I do
The loneliness gets more
She wraps her arms around me
While I lay motionless on the floor
Trying to get back into writing
 Sep 6 Antonia
Kalliope
Carefully removing posters from the wall
But the tape always catches
And rips at the edges,
Never careful enough
And like the tape
I never escape
Without a piece of them
Always with me
 Sep 6 Antonia
Saanvi
A beautiful day in September,
The air is breathing yellow,
Painting the leaves golden
with each exhale.
Hues of autumn are unfolding
Warmth and tenderness intertwine,
With sunlight spreading on tree branches.
There's merry laughter in the hamlets,
Their laughter merges
with the sunshine laughing.
It is a reflection of
September's joy.
Somewhere the song of summer is ending,
But what a gift it is to be able to live
In September's warmth,
it protects me
From all sadness.
I wrote this as an ode to the beauty of autumn though my favorite season is summer😊
“Are you okay?”,
my wife asks
when I cough.

“No. I’m fine.
Yes. I’m not”,
I respond,

stumping her
in the poetic irony
of words that

encompass the
yes and no
and the in between.

She flips the finger
at me and I return
the bird to the nest.

We go back to our life
and our tablets,
the drip, drip of my chemo
and I wonder about okay.

“No.  You’re fine.
Yes. You’re not.”,
the bag stares in response.
Visitors give me pleasure,
When they depart.
5/9/2024
 Sep 5 Antonia
Brumous
isolation has its familiarity,
as happiness is a drug
yet not as addicting as
misery.
god forbid this feeling of deserving this suffering.
 Sep 2 Antonia
MissBah
Age
 Sep 2 Antonia
MissBah
Age
When I turn on Me
When I am  rejected by Self
When my beauty is Lost
When I am in poor Health
When my hair is Thin
When my smile is Empty
When it becomes a Grin
When my hands Wrinkle
When my feet Wobble
When in my eyes there is no Twinkle
When I age , I turn on ME...
 Sep 2 Antonia
Arturo
I shed a tear for you
From time to time.
Sometimes a little.
Often a river
When I’m missing you.

So hard to find you
In the hustle of the grind.
Family first, y’know,
Day to day.

Then I remember,
I can’t ignore,
That you were once me
I once you,
That little boy,
The adolescent,
The teen.

These days I shed a tear for you,
And then realize that you are me.
i opened my window
and the wind blew in
turning over a page
telling me
that it was time
to start a new chapter
Next page