Rachael A Gentry

Rachael A Gentry May 2015

This woman, she has wiry hair,
She cleans her teeth with a finger,
She looks much like a bear.

This woman, her clothes are brown and raggedy,
her nose is crooked and scarred.
She constantly walks with a limp
and her neck is equal to lard.

In this woman, looking back, I can see
the strength within her heart
the kindness that she held
the happiness that she felt...

and the person I'd like to be

Rachael A Gentry May 2015

Be

Patience is the word of the slow,
and progress is the word of the hasty.
We truly must only be now.
Now is though a concept like go or stop.

Be what you are, hasty or slow.
To be, simply do, both and/or neither.
To find a simple median,
that is now much like every other time.

Rachael A Gentry May 2015

Stand

We shall not wait for prince charming to save us,
We must bring ourselves up from what haunts our beings.
Don't sit upon a filth covered floor and wait for results.
Allow dust filled time to be motivation for bettering ourselves.

But when our fate has turned for what we've made it,
Don't wait for someone to be in hell to show them heaven.
Be the better side of yourself to even those unfamiliar.
Open up to them with confidence and pride.

Show kindness to the experienced and unexperienced alike,
And give chances those who accept them, not necessarily deserve them.
Beware though, of sympathy and care's dangerous results.
For the mistakes learned from are what divide the fine from the lazy.

Rachael A Gentry Apr 2015

Realism

Has man ruined our world?
Is pollution fancy for destruction?
Will generations cry after us at the mistakes we've made?
If this is so, we're passed fixing it. What's left?
Let's not dwell on what life could've been,
Appreciate what is,
Man has killed but there's no reason to keep killing.
If you think that there's any freedom, your wrong.
We won't stop fighting for it though,

Rachael A Gentry Apr 2015

Magic Blanket

The moon's magic blanket,
The life it's rays begin
In darkness, it is not dark,
But light that is hidden within

The moon does not give light,
It reflects it from the sun
But it auras a magic feeling,
In which there is no compare

It beckons you,
It dares
The danger, seems none
As it captures you in trance
Your heart, your soul...
Your life

The moon, it's more than that
It's imagination alive,
A magic blanket that watches you as it hangs high in the air,
Is it a moon? Or a whimsy of the mind?
Is it science? Or a feeling to which none other can provide?
Does it give life? Or does it rip it from the living?

It warms me at night...
The moon's magic blanket

— The End —