Miracle Carrington

Miracle Carrington Oct 2015

Red and black verses red and white,
Colors so vivid, but with different meanings.
Roses and snow; Mars and midnight,
Opposite and alike in so many things.

The color of a sweet rose,
But so vile and gory.
A tainted white arose
And cleared the air of such a bad story.

A belly of laughs,
So pure and gentle.
A bag of smiles on their behalf,
And joyous homes so ornamental.

A drizzled white with a beaming red,
Covered the blackened heart of the dead.
Then why hide a fake under real?
To make sure the black doesn't reveal?

#black #white #red #satan #santa

Miracle Carrington Oct 2015

Growing Up Takes Time

Youth is not forever.
Games don't have age limits,
Being a child is not so bad,
Everything we do has it's benefits.

There's always room for play,
Even if it can not stay.
Not everyone is ready,
To keep a job that is steady.

Growing up isn't always easy,
It comes with rules and responsibility.
Everybody looks to the future,
Hoping to find it in a brochure.

Not everyone wants to take the plunge,
Into a life that might not be fun.
Being a child is OK,
Where life is a debt, one we don't have to pay.

Growing up takes time,
A ladder which we all have to climb,
One thing's for certain,
We will all meet that curtain.

#poem #life #up #child #adult #grow

Miracle Carrington Oct 2015

A Mother

Any woman can birth a child
Any woman can neglect
It takes a special someone
To care and protect

Even though, the ride can be wild,
Even though, things might not go their way,
They stay,
But do not back away.

Any women can choose their path,
Some might not do the math.
Not all expect God’s gift of love,
The heavenly light sent from God above.

Some neglect and go their own way,
Others take charge and deal with it all.
A mother will stay
And love their infant and watch them crawl.

*italic*

#love #mother #child #infant

Miracle Carrington Oct 2015

Plain Jane

No one special, just your typical teen,
Bored and alone, wishing she had a dream.
So many people in a crowded room,
Yet, all she sees are clouds of doom.

A famous celebrity on her own,
Just waiting on that right moment.
A moment for the right word, time or unknown,
A moment to be enthroned.

A talent not taught in school,
Would be the most useful tool.
Could it be her dream come true?
Or something she ought not to brew?

Plain, average and simple
With amazing talents oblivious
To all which intermingle,
Into one that made her twinkle.

#teen #plain #jane

Miracle Carrington Oct 2015

Love

Love comes and goes,

From one person to another as it chose.

It’s a beautiful thing,

It can be harmless or come with a sting.

It’s not rich or poor,

It doesn’t care if you live on the sea floor.

It comes in all sizes,

It can be dull or with romantic surprises.

Love doesn’t care about appearance

Nor about attendance.

It doesn’t care if you drive an ambulance,

Just as long as there’s acceptance.

The choice of expression is up to you.

It can be simple and dressy

Or reckless and messy.

But remember, your intent is to persue.

Love is but a word.

It takes two to make it true.

So don’t be shy,

It’s only meant for me and you.

Love is not a game,

Nor heavy as lead

So tell that special someone,

I love you too.

#love

Miracle Carrington Oct 2015

Paint to Write

"She’s smooth as water” says the pencil and the marker she traced with.
“She’s careful” says the hand that colored the blurry image.
“She’s really messy” says the multicolored stained fingerprints of multiple chalks.
“She loves to paint” says the neatly stacked by size oil paint brushes.
“Soft as snow” says the handle as it glides by the gentle breeze.
“She’s gentle” says the wet oil sliding down the paper in light streaks.
“Once I dry,” says the wet product “she will scrape and scratch my impurities.”
“A fingerprint found in a ******” identifies the scraper carving the circular parts.

“She’s gone in the wind” reminisces the finished product, the pencil and the marker, and the scraper. “We’ve been replaced.”
“She got a new best friend” says the new pen.
“It’s for the best” reassures the lined paper.

“It was a phase” mocks the keyboard and the monitor together.
“I love you” confesses the binded book full of poems, essays, and short stories.
“We feel so used and abandoned” whimpers the art, the pen and paper and the keyboard with the monitor.

“I’m sorry” apologizes the hand that wrote and painted for years. “I never meant to hurt you”

Miracle Carrington Oct 2015

Like a Dove, Burned for the Very First Time

This is just a dedication,
Not reality, just inspiration.
Why you ask? Life is like a dove,
Once it's burned, it can only be healed by love!

A sweet luxurious night
Could result in such a terrible fright.
A burden created by a seed
Will soon be loved through need.

Soon the seed's guardian will leave,
With every intention to deceive.
The dove, now knowing what to do,
Will know why he came without residue.

After some time, the burden will grow.
An angel will appear and make everything glow.
A new mother she will be
And a new love will sparkle in thee.

Burn bright, young angel when darkness comes
May your light not dwindle upon their sight,
May stars bow down and praise your might,
May the darkness recede back to their tombs!

An angel who was born from a dove
Burns bright through need and love.
Will fate be kind to the new found flight?
Or will the cycle restart with a new found fright?