We live in troubled times.
The Amazon is burning and yet
no one will answer for these crimes.
Such is the twenty-first century
when the polar ice caps are melting
and there's no one to answer their plea.

the more I cry, the more
I miss you mother
but I wonder if you are
crying just as the same
how I wish the warm tears
weren't for a broken nest
breaking again
how much longer
would we have to endure
mother, remember
when you said falling stars are sorrowed angels with
hollowed wings and
broken hearts?
—help me

Ahmma gonna die
ya reminds me
an' I thinx
tah mahsel
no no no
youse just gonna
slows yersel sa much
ahm goin'

Hey, everyone, I don't know how many of you remember me, but it's been a long time since I was really active. However, that is going to change and even though I will be getting more busy in my life within the next couple of weeks, I will still be making plans to continuously be active on Hello Poetry.

My hard drive got wiped a few months ago so I lost allllllll of my archived and unpublished poetry I had ready to be published on Hello Poetry, so its been a struggle to write again.

I've also been working on other writing works like short stories, but I absolutely LOVE Hello Poetry. When I joined in 2014, I was instantly overwhelmed with how amazing this community was and still is. It was better than other previous poetry community (cough cough WP).

I can't wait to start publishing again and I hope if you remember me, and liked my old world, you'll like my new stuff.

If you don't know or remember me, hi, I'm Ryan :)

Cheers!

- 5/14/18

If I ever loved a woman,
If I ever gave it my all.
You were the woman I loved,
You were the reason for my fall.

Not the drop from grace,
but the plunge into love.
You're the type of soul
that I used to dream of.

On a night so soft
With a cup of tea so warm,
I now understand that
Happiness can arrive
At such simple times
And in such a simple form.

The one
Who you always
Wonder
If they are
Wondering
About you

He's the guy attracted to
The girls who are
Broken
He wants to be the knight in
Shining armor
Rescuing the fair maiden
From her misery
He will not accept
He is broken
Too

As long as there are teenagers extant,
Anomie and alienation of
an unripened generation
Shall spill upon this site in cliched cries,
Dabbling with threats of pills and lies,
The endless pain felt gives one fright.
To this old soul who wonders silently,
Will these thousands of pained children
Make it through to their next incarnation

So much angst, so much anger,
I wonder if God created poetry
To salve their wounds

Their unknown futures loom,
But all I read is  hurt and doom.
You shall survive, children.
Awful poetry, some good,
you will write.
But write and write
till your heart be calmed

For even ancient kings felt the anguish  of the soul,
And we profit even today by King David's psalms.

This wizened fool has his hands full,
Mouths to feed, bread to earn and bake,
As midnight is almost nigh,
He rests prone and adds a verse to this old poem
He long ago scribbled down, grimace-smiles now,
Realizing there is little difference tween him and the
Sad Eyed Teenagers of the Lowland.

For poetry salves his wounds still, even now,
Unashamedly, he thinks, quiet like, praying,
Hallelujah, spoken in the original,
The tongue of his ancestors