Grief comes in waves
It ebbs and flows
One minuet you're fine
The next who knows?
My heart's in shackles
Binded in chains
Since the day you left
I've never been the same
It broke my heart to hear you were gone
I miss you
I love you
It's hard to be strong
If I could have just one more day
I'd take your hand then I'd say
I'm sorry I left
I'm sorry there was no goodbye
I'd give you a kiss
I'd try not to cry
I pray you forgive me for not being there
Life may be beautiful
But it sure isn't fair.
I like to sit and think
About all that is
All that was
All that could be.
My mind wanders
through all possibilities
As though they were endless,
endless fields of wildflowers.
I take a brief stop.
Soaking up the sunshine of hope
dancing to the beat of your heart,
the winds of change blow.
We've lived a thousand lives
lost in a sea of daydream delights
neither here nor there
no single meaning to this thing called
my empty distress
inside I'm a mess
this **** I detest
crack open a book
hey degenerate, take a look
flip a page
the world's a stage
blind, ignorant rage
our youth's worth minimum wage
living cheque to cheque, dollar to dollar
most of god's children grow up in squalor
the blood, the gore can't you see
it becomes ones destiny
no peace on earth, death, war and greed
ignorance dug the garden, hatred planted the seed
turned a blind eye for far too long
I became weak when I ignored the wrong
I'm not the one that walked away
I'm not the one that stole your smile
I'm not the one that broke your heart
I'm not her
I'm just the girl you met one day
I'm just the girl that stood by your side
I'm just the girl that fell in love
You're just the boy that said goodbye
Because I'm not her.
We are writers and poets who know how to express
We can define our feelings a lot more or a lot less
Why were we cursed with the ability to feel?
The feelings of life that are so painfully real...
We can make music by writing what we desire
Turning simple paper into a passionate fire
We can sway hearts by symbolizing love and creation
Or break another's by turning words into death and temptation
We are the cursed race of scholars who turn words into weapons
We can draw blood with a phrase in a matter of seconds
We are dedicated authors with emotions so heavy
That one word from us that is read or heard can be deadly
Words are our weapons, our friends and our foes
Even a writer or poet has demons that only we know
Each line is a battle and each piece is a war
We are writers and poets and we will write forevermore
“Fear not,” the winds whispered through the pines
Tenderly stroking my hair as I wandered through the forest.
“Don’t shed a tear,” the rustling poplars sang
Stirring my soul as I wept.
Leaves waltzing, gyrating, floating,
Doing whatever they may please
Soft sunlight filtered through the canopy, putting me at ease.
Cold air filled my lungs, clearing my mind
Sweet therapy at last, finally free.
Free to wander the wilderness, uninterrupted and jovial.
My whole life set before me.
The End plays softly,
Dancing upon my ears.
My soul rests gently
There are no more tears.
Up and down like gentle waves,
Breathing deeply: no pain remains.
Drifting away, lost at sea.
What do you see when you look at me?
The hurt in my eyes,
Or tear stains on my cheeks?
The heartbreak you left me,
In volumes it speaks.
But alas, sadness does not forever last,
The sun will shine again and help me move past.
Your hold over me is broken for good,
My heart is mending, just as it should.
— The End —