Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Menna grace May 2021
Nostalgic body wishing for a cold spring
Lonely nights with horror cinema and unprovided love
Chocolate and endless food for the dawn
Dreams and daydreams were real and alive
They weren’t covered in shades and dark
I wish I could feel hope and love
I wish I could find a good movie that I cannot forgot
A good album that abide me by and a time for me to feel alive
Poetry isn’t poetry anymore
When it’s losing its meaning
It’s losing its meaning
  May 2021 Menna grace
My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
For the better parts.
For the “soon”.
For my life to begin.
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.
Yesterday, April 8th, was my birthday. I wrote this poem two years ago, when I was 19 almost 20, and on my 22nd birthday I find that the website selected it as a daily and I have all these wonderful people saying wonderful things about my poetry. Thank you Hello Poetry, and thank you everyone else. This was the best birthday present I could have even gotten. (04/09/2021)
Lost on a sailboat going nowhere but towards a dream
I glide deeper in blue waters looking for the endless seam
night has fallen softly all around me, I can only gleam
here in my sailboat, standing spar to spar a pulpit realm

Finding only calm I mesh as one with the dolphins in the sea
the wind blows softly in my ear whistling past the bow now free
the calendar of time fades as dull as grandad's silver cutlery
I breathe deep, deeper then mermaids, there are three *

Entering forbidden lands, my fantasy is real  and real is not , I could  
for I'm warrior of old navigating, counting knots on a  piece of wood
ancient trees wave from a distance standing where they always stood
while my unflappable sails align to the sky, 15 knots no more all good

Finding solace in a cup of Joe  sitting on a berth at the edge of night
the stars are pantomiming with the flicker of their equestrian light
she sits beside me  reading my tea cup in her flimsy gown of white
the ghost of my Fedora, together we are lost it a nautical twilight.

May 25, 2021
  May 2021 Menna grace
You are the abundance of stars only visible to the dreamer in the wake of night

The sun and its companions as they glow to shine a light on the surface of your skin

You are the mischief that forms the toothy grin on the face of a child’s curiosity

The everlasting glow on their faces as they question the world around them

And I am lost in translation, confused, amused and somewhat enchanted

To you I am the clouds that hide away your blue skies

But to me I am the ones that shield you from the glare of a jealous sun

And to each other we are foreign, bordered and misunderstood

Lost in translation I’m waiting for you to understand ,
That to you; you’re nothing, but to me; you’re my dreamland
  May 2021 Menna grace
is taking
a lifetime.
  May 2021 Menna grace

Yesterday I cried to the moon
as she wiped my tears away
made my worries disappear
so I could sleep again.

Today I smile at the sun
and it shines back on me,
what a wonderful world
to be alive;
to be me.
Next page