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Robyn Little Jul 2019
I am not sure what to write about Change

              What changes could I possibly mention?

The way your legs change to blue even if you wrap them up with care?

Or the way you best pray that on a particular icy day you don’t run out of underwear?

The way your nose will turn pink and numb and we will start to hurry through our exchanges

Because the more we don’t talk, the sooner we can get to warm and secluded places

Where we can’t be bothered by hustle and bustle, where we can use the cold as reasoning

                   As to why getting out of bed is a hassle

Later in the year, the orange will turn to green, for those with allergies our throats will clear

And the sun will cause our skin to singe, will cause our dairy treats to melt and ruin our binge

But for some of us, the cold leaves with our excuse for privacy and voices hit like the heat

                             ‘Come outside!’ they cry

                             ‘We never see you anymore!’

But you’re afraid to step into the sun, afraid to feel the burn, no matter how much you want to

Because your legs may freeze and your nose may turn pink in the cold

But the panic in your chest when faced with a warm laughing world is far too old

This is most likely not what you expected when you asked me about Change

But I’m afraid we’ve spoken too long so leave me alone in my chosen cage
Fun Fact - This was the poem that won me my college's poetry competition.
Robyn Little Jul 2019
You don’t know me
And you do not know my thoughts
I do not know you
Not your name, nor your person
So I don’t know whether or not
I’d want to be near you or leave you to rot
If I looked at you would you rock my world?
Hardly, your appearance is the only thing I would observe
And then we would never again cross paths on this earth
I love cats yet you might prefer dogs
I live where it’s sunny yet you may hail near the fog
I travel by car a short way, though I’d gladly board a plane
To travel a great distance, But maybe you’d board a bus in an instance.
Are you one to flinch when someone raises their hand?
Do you have anyone? A friend? Anybody with whom you have made plans?
Are you tired of this world? Or are you learning to join the dance?
I could believe anything about you because I will never meet you
You are a stranger, not unlike a ghost
And yet today, you are in my thoughts the most
My first poem on this site.
Robyn Little Jan 2022
Well now, haven’t you got the prettiest shell?
So smooth and glossy, bright and slick,
And so unique!
So different from everyone else!

Although…

Are you sure about pink? Doesn’t seem right
Not green! It doesn’t suit you!
You don’t want black! Too boyish!
That much red?! What an eyesore!
Oh, don’t look so blue! We’ll get this right

You know the young ones always look darling
Always pure white, they look so angelic
Wouldn’t you want to be more like them?
It was only a suggestion dear!
Don’t storm off in a strop! What’s wrong with you?
Think outside the box? Why would you need to?
I’m sorry darling, I guess you just -
I guess it just doesn’t...feel like you

You know, I think we’ll just paint it for you!
How about a nice white?
Maybe grey or beige
Oh, no dear grey is too ugly…
How about charcoal, a nice dark shell yes?
You’ll blend right in!
There we go! That is much better!
It’s perfect this way
You’re perfect this way.
Robyn Little Feb 2022
22 years old and it's my birthday
an old classic free on streaming
it's worth it to see the look on everyone's face
the whole thing is great,
but one thing I find funny is
like Donald said make em laugh make em laugh make em laugh
what idiot goes singin in the rain
that's a terrible idea but it's entertaining anyway
a silly old movie on a night full of rain
taught me even if they bury you alive
at least you made em laugh
Robyn Little Jan 2022
How committed are we to days and nights of peace?
I’d say soft guitar music softens the pain
As does a good book, wan sunlight, a walk,
Maybe all three on a perfect day with
Soft guitar music in the background

Noise is accepted. Visitors are welcome.
Nothing better than a small thing
to look forward to
The path outside awaits
Gentle music for an hour-long break
The phone call that reminds you it’ll be ok
Anything soft, anything gentle,
Anything that may send you off to sleep
Strumming soft guitar into your brain
Robyn Little Mar 2022
Lulu Little had a mysterious start to life

No mother father or siblings to speak of

Three nameless kids with one father

Absent to each, hers to keep clean

But you see

Lulu was thrown out onto the streets

Barefoot, pregnant and nowhere to call home

Then she was picked up and put in a shed

Giving birth to three babies alone

Then strange people came and took her away

She slept most of the day away

Arguing with the neighbors and a few mouthfuls in between

Occasionally she still wonders about her babies

In the night her new mother whispers to her about them

Lulu may have grandchildren by now

She certainly acts like a grandma

Moaning about her woes

Sitting in her chair licking her wounds

Falling asleep for 22 hours straight

Oh before I forget just let me reiterate

Lulu does all these things and she does

all these things because Lulu is a cat
Robyn Little Apr 2022
You invited them in
You let them at your table
You let their child play with yours
You let their cat near your dog
You let them wine and dine on your account
You let them bind you and your spouse
You let them put a gun to your head
You let them put your child to bed
You let them take you to their car
You knew what they wanted
You knew you had the answers
You knew it was your fault
At least one of these is a lie
Can you tell which is which?
Robyn Little Jan 2022
On the steps of the theatre in the streets of London, they saw each other.
One in a red coat the other with splattered glasses from the downpour
Their eyes met and the memories of long ago nights filled their heads.
The one with the red coat offers a smile both friendly and in farewell
The one with the glasses offers only a nod and heads through the doors
A day later that coat is missing, along with its owner never to be seen again
Two days later the coat reappears with only a pair of glasses in its pocket.

— The End —