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Jun 2012 · 562
Who Am I
Clare Surette Jun 2012
You're the great branches of their roots, sweet apple of their eye
you're a creative individual under their design. You are the ideal offspring
but who the hell am I?

You've made them so proud, overcame great boundaries
they couldn't ask for a better tale of a boy.
You're the life of the family, the radiant beam that everyone loves
a light that my own will never amount to

Warm laugh, wise eyes, the very same as our father
kind heart, friendly spirit, all given by our mother
but who the hell am I?

You understand them so well, you know their secrets and their stories.
Why don't I know what you do, what is it that I don't see?
I guess our brown eyes don't appear similar to them
I am no you
nor will I ever be. But I wish I knew
Who am I?
Jan 2012 · 632
Dark Horizon
Clare Surette Jan 2012
Hello, are you out there? You seem to be quite far
trapped behind steel bars, ones of your own design
You and I both know that we hold the very same key
that will free your mind and soul away from this deviating place

So why not let us in and bring you away from this hurt?
deny deny deny deny
This is no double-edge sword, this is a one way street
a place you wouldn't want to venture along the way

Your actions cry out for longing but deny its presence
please smile once again, because we love it when you do
and this lack of light from your once illuminating vibe
has only left us in the dark as well
Jan 2012 · 1.3k
Clouds
Clare Surette Jan 2012
The storm inside your weary mind comes out in your misty eyes
Settle now, let the storm pass over and lay yourself in your field of peace
Look beyond the land and let all your stresses disappear and send them
floating away
let them ride with the clouds
Jan 2012 · 595
Clare Julia
Clare Surette Jan 2012
Childhood remembrances are always special
If you’re from Swampscott
You always remember things like playing at Kid’s Cove,
Running around letting off your Sugar induced energy when you were small.
Your parents would spin you as fast as they could on the beloved tire swing.
You would twirl so wildly, it felt like you were in a tornado.
You held on as tight as a five year old could, with the loudest laugh and the brightest smile.
The hardest challenge in your childhood was going through the tragic loss
Of two amazing heroes, who each gave their lives so that we could keep ours.
You stood on a street corner, watching silently as police cars and fire trucks made their way
Down past Monument Ave, with small American flags laying beneath your tiny fingers,
Waving it as a salute to those two brave hearted souls.
Your favorite place to go was down to one of the myriad of beaches
Spending countless days sitting under the long awaited for sun of summer
After enduring Winter’s harsh grasp.
You have a special possession in your life,
Whether it be baby blankets, a stuffed friend, or a beloved bedtime story.
Your memories as a child are the ones you will always cherish,
And one day share with children of your own.
Jan 2012 · 836
I Am
Clare Surette Jan 2012
I am from the blank canvas, that over time
grew into a myriad of colors, bright and dark.
I am from the water coursing beneath the bridge behind the beat-down picket fence,
like the very blood within my veins guided by the beating of my heart.
I am from the tall oak tree whose strong arms held the weathered, wooden swing
before age robbed it of its tyrant strength.

I am from the severed hands, strong-willed and wise
And boats that dared sail to corners set far from home
I am from the Williams’, I am from the Surette’s.

I am from the ones who were too stubborn to give up,
and those whose strength seemed immeasurable.

From the times when my spirits came crashing down with full force.
A mind battered, a head bowed, it was spoken courage that healed my wounds.
To the scars that remind me of the lessons I’ve had to learn, I hope to one day be
grateful for the bridges I have burned.

I am from He who gave his own, so that I could have it all.
I am from the sand that He traveled and the Lord’s Word that He spoke.
I am from the rolling hills of Ireland, and the skyscraping pines of Canada.
From the roppy pies at Christmas, to the angel blue eyes that I always confide in.
I am from my father’s strength and protection, to my mother’s undying love and devotion.
I am from a brother’s teachings, and his heart that always remains true.
I am from the worn out frames bearing the faint dust of time, which when wiped off reveal
the images of moments and loved ones that now only exist in memory and heart.
I am from these memories, the roots of who I am.
Jan 2012 · 1.3k
Breathe Easy
Clare Surette Jan 2012
They say the living’s easy in a place where the living is not seen
A place that was able to take you up somewhere far from all the hurt found underneath the clouds.
A place where you can find the true comfort and solace
that should have been yours for the taking all along.
Although we may be separated now, our only boundary is time
Just as one sails across the open sea to the unknown horizon that awaits them
We will wait and face the waves ahead until they bring us together again
Please know that our hearts are yours to hold forever, a love that no barrier can stop.
And that having our paths cross during the time we had together
Made the whole world lighter, and we were lucky to have seen the best smile ever to shine
So take it all in, because the good life is yours to live now
Share that smile up above and spread your wings to feel the breeze
of the perfect, pristine air that now surrounds you
Breathe Easy now, in and out ever so smoothly
As we wait until our ships come home together once again.
Jan 2012 · 521
Alone
Clare Surette Jan 2012
Being alone is one of the hardest things to be.
You have nowhere to run to, no shoulder to cry on.
Bottled up emotions and memories longing to be set free
But with no one to listen, the cage remains locked.
Although constantly surrounded by people strutting the halls
you feel as though you live in an empty world.
Left to fend for yourself, you find nearly no comfort, no solace.
Your only sense of belonging seems to be behind closed doors
in seclusion of the world that forgot you were there.
Feeling so much anger you consider an “easy way out,”
but it only leaves more scars on your body and wounded mind.
It seems as though you will never have someone to truly understand,
and you quickly learn that being alone is one of the hardest things to be.
Based on the novel "Speak"

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