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Orange Rose Mar 2018
I never wondered why the sky was blue,
Or wondered why the trees would lose their leaves.
I never asked why mourning doves would coo,
At morning time when silence rode the breeze.

I never asked why sunset turned clouds pink.
Or wondered why the grass would roll down hills.
It wasn't that I didn't like to think,
But questions never came to me at will.

I never questioned why you said "I do."
Or ever held uncertainty for your smile.
I never doubted you'd always be true.
I knew you'd be beside me every mile.

I didn't notice when the tears would fall.
I never questioned why you'd always lie.
I never thought about our last phone call.
But always wondered why you had to die.
almost all my poems start out all light and fluffy and then reality punches you in the face.  i don't know why.
Orange Rose Mar 2018
I pray that someday peace will be the goal of our nation.
I pray that freedom will be true.
I pray that kindness and compassion will be instinctual.
I pray that hearts may be changed by the truth.
I pray for a country that stands by its foundations.
I pray that it does not bend to the will of a people who would see it break.
I pray for a country whose leaders will lead and not be led.
I pray for a day when people will smile at each other on the street.
I pray for casual conversation on the subway.
I pray for the future I thought I would have.
I pray for the future of generations to come.
Orange Rose Mar 2018
At break of day our eyes will close.
We pray that soon the sun will go,
To hide behind a moon that glows.
We pray that soon the falling snow,
Will conceal the ground below,
Which opens up and swallows us whole.
We will not be forgotten, though.

Our stories are read by those who are late,
And they will know of our mistakes,
And be smart enough to slam on brakes,
For finally they know the stakes,
And refuse to follow in the fate,
Of a world consumed by floods of hate,
Where all we know disintegrates.

And all that's left is Dust.
the second stanza was imagined first at around 2:45 am as i was drifting off to sleep.  i knew i wouldn't remember it if i didn't write it down so i grabbed a pen and paper. lo and behold, when i woke up i had completely forgotten that i had written it.  the first stanza was written later.
Orange Rose Mar 2018
I used to believe,
When I was a child,
That Fairies hid behind trees.
          
          That every time,
           I turned my head,
          They would come out to stare at me.

I used to believe,
When I was a child,
That roses gave pixies their flight.
          
          That the Dewdrops that stayed,
          At the dawn of the day,
          Was nothing but fallen starlight.

I used to believe,
When I was a child,
That bells brought wedding days.

          That the bride wearing white,
          And the groom in his suit,
          Were happy forever and always.

I used to believe,
When I was a child,
That mommies and daddies don't fight.

          But if all you see,
          Is all you know,
          You're blinded by your sight.
Orange Rose Mar 2018
There are days when I feel like Broken Glass,
Where I glisten and gleam in the soft, green Grass.
And Anyone who dares to tread,
On my resting Place is sure to dread,
The Pain of a wound that is Hot like Ice,
And the Soul who receives it will not tread twice.

How ugly a shattered Dish can be.
A useless, biting Thing like Me,
Who injures those who come too Near.
Those Souls who are Drawn by my gleaming veneer.

I must Wait for someone to hold me just right,
Who can see how I shimmer in Bright, morning light.
Who sees me not as a Thing of no value,
And will Strive to turn me into something New.

Yes, I am Broken beyond repair,
And those who come close should Surely beware.
But Mosaics too are works of Art.
Of something Beautiful, will I be a part.
Orange Rose Mar 2018
Heart of sadness cease your tears.
Save the rest for all the years,
Of pain, of shattering on the floor,
Of empty promises and closing doors.

Heart of gladness dim your smile.
Have some left for every mile,
Of laughter, and the rising sun,
Of adventure, and of having fun.

Heart of grieving dry your eyes.
Lift them now up to the skies,
Of gentle blue and cotton white,
Of sunny days and starry nights.
Orange Rose Mar 2018
When you're born you have a song,
That others cannot hear.
For music they don't understand,
Falls deaf upon their ear.

So, when you find somebody,
Who can hear you loud and clear,
Keep them close inside your heart,
And hold them very dear.
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