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Orchid May 2018
Depression is the singer
Singing lullaby’s to me
Early in the morning.

Depression is the band
Living next door,
Practicing late at night,
Keeping me awake
With the beats of a drum.

Depression is the love song
I think about
when I think of you.

Depression makes the music,
That I hold dear to me,
Into the banging of a gong
That never stops ringing.

Depression is the storm
Late at night,
That no one can see.
For they sleep peacefully
In the warmth of their sheets.
While I slowly die of the cold.

Depression is the tsunami
That destroys everything I love.
It carries my hopes away,
On a stream
That leads off a cliff.

I can’t retrieve my sanity.
And sadly I think,
Depression will **** me.
Orchid Feb 2018
We are all drops in the ocean,
We create ripples in the water,
Waves to the shore,
And tsunamis to the town.
We don't hold anything close to us,
But the people that we love.
And as it seems where we stand now
We only affect ourselves,
But if we look a bit closer,
We're setting fire to the rain.
Our tiny moves and actions
Aren't affecting only our souls alone,
But the God in heaven as well.
And that just simply isn't all.
For we are also slightly affecting
The ones that are close to us,
The ones we claim to love.
And so if we want to see
The affect we have today,
Look at each individual
That you have interacted with,
And don't just simply look at
Your selfish simple heart.
First poem on this site.
Orchid Sep 2020
The thin glistening needle threads
back and forth,
back and forth.
As the black thread slowly tangles in a knot

It twists and turns through each circle,
creating a lump in the center,
stoping the artist in their track,
forcing them to ponder on the black thread.

Should they continue?
Or should they stop,
cut the string and restart,
unwind new thread,
And strain their eyes again?
Orchid Jul 2019
The world spins regardless of weather,
It rotates and breathes what we never hold.
And all that’s left is just to wonder,
Why is it the air and the planets are so bold
When all we have is nothing to be sold.
So therefore what reason do we have to be so cold?
If the place we live in never stops to gander,
Why do we feel we need to ponder?
And if the sky and the seas find hosanna,
       Why can’t I?
Orchid Feb 2018
Pain is only temporary,
It only lasts until you die.
But the greatest pain of all,
Is losing a heart a little too early
To a pain that doesn’t go,
To a heart that truly believes
Death is the only cure.
So don’t go before your time,
Be as strong as you are.
And go through the pain until it ends,
Cause at the end of every rainbow
Their is a little bit of gold.
Orchid Mar 2018
I get it she’s better than me.
She’s skinny, has a beautiful voice,
Can sing, has long hair,
A perfect face, great smile,
Wonderful personality (I hear,)
And she’s not as mentally broken.
I get it, she’s better than me.
That’s why you’re going to choose her,
I see it in your eyes when you talk to me.
You’re always thinking of her,
Wondering about her safety.
You call her when you’re with me,
You protect her when she’s hurt,
And you leave me alone,
Suffering in my mind.
And I’m playing the girl,
Who doesn’t care.
In hopes that you might see,
I really do care.
And I want you to be with me.
But go to her,
Because I know she’s better than me.
And right now I know you want her,
And not me.
Orchid Oct 2018
Lets talk about our past memories
All the stories and all the tales
Let’s talk about all our theories
And how they never seem to last
Cause we never seem to look past
All of our notes and all our facts

Let’s find ourselves alone
At 3am. Crying on our beds,
Avoiding the biggest traffic cone
Inside of our sorrowful heads.

Because we can’t escape ourselves,
What we’ve broken upon the shelves.
And we started counting in twelves,
Forgetting the one’s and the thirteen’s,
And all the rest in the in betweens.
Now we can’t find anything to be unseen.

If only we had taken our predictions,
And thrown out all our guns,
Lived like all the billions,
And stopped resting in coffins.
This is a poem I wrote to my old group of friends. It talks about how I told them our friendship wasn’t going to last, but they insisted we would all be fine. Long story short, we weren’t.
Orchid Apr 2018
So the story goes,
The girl who left
Had a heart of gold.
Her soul was precious,
And she was kind.
She always just seemed fine.

And so the story goes,
She left the world
With a pain in her chest.
Her life was short,
They say and repeat.
Forgetting all reasons why.

But so the story goes,
Ten years after her glow,
Changed and twisted
To fit a dream
That speaks of untrue times,
Covered by well said rhymes.
They are undeniably lies.

And so the real tale goes,
She didn’t want to be seen,
And she found a way to hide,
To be gone from all sight.
And she didn’t want them to talk,
But all they do now is talk;
Her name remains.

The real tale shows.
That words picture her
With unrealistic strokes.
That their stories make a lesson,
That was never really learned.
Falsifying her as a winner,
When all she did was lose.

And the real tale knows,
That the people talking now,
Wouldn’t talk if she didn’t hide.
And when joining her
They’ll walk past,
Forgetting that her name
Ever passed their lips.
Orchid Mar 2018
We aren’t the stars,
For the stars can’t explain,
For they’re just a bit too sane.

We aren’t the sun,
The sun is too bright.
We just aren’t that great.

We are the moon,
We give off kind light.
Revealing the stars at night.

Because we are the moon,
The sun reveals us,
For we are the moon.
Orchid Jul 2018
We will rise, Rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, We will rise.
No waterfall will take us down,
No flood of rain or broken walls,
No white of winter can tear us up.
So why should tears destroy us?
We will lose everything at once,
But we will rise, rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, we will rise.
And we can hope for sunny rays,
But what’s the use during lazy days?
So we will rise, take action in our pain.
Find comfort in our cries.
And when no one else can save us,
We’ll rise up on our own.
I swear we’ll be okay.
With all our efforts theirs no other way.
No heart of gold can help us,
If our heart is made of stone.
So let’s open up our arms,
And bloom through the rocks.
On our own or by ourselves
We will stand our ground.
Cause we will rise, rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, we will rise.
The little town I’m from flooded recently and this is a poem I wrote for my community.

— The End —