Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
When the day rains

The sky is crying tears

Tears that have fallen

For thousands of years



Tears of billions of souls

The sky cries them all

Some of them are yours and mine

So let them fall, just fall



The sky picked them all up

From the ground where I wept

Let fall the ones formed from

The pillow upon which I have slept



Allow these despaired waters

To wash away your pain

As you cry your own tears

That will soon become rain



Rain is the name

We call the sky

When the dark clouds fold

And it starts to cry



And soon the long-kept sorrows

Will all be washed away

As the rain sprinkles your face

On a wet crying day



A rainy day

Washes the pain.
September 26, 2018

I try and find a symbolic trait to the natural event we call rain.

An older poem written a few months back, but I thought it was good to see how far my poetry had come.
Did you notice the sky was gray?

Did you notice their shoes today?

Did you notice those old rocks?

Did you notice your own thoughts?

Do you notice the wind in you hair?

Did you notice the birds over there?

Did you notice how you smile?

Did you notice your clothing style?

Did you notice the apple tree?

Did you notice the grass was green?

Did you notice the teacher's pants?

Did you notice the minute hand?

Did you notice the shade of their eyes?

Did you notice how you cry?

Did you notice the cleaning staff?

Did you notice your neighbor's laugh?

Did you notice?
September 25, 2018

I present the many things people overlook in their busy lives.

This was not my favorite poem I had ever written, mainly because it seemed overly repetitive and awkward.
A crescent moon was outshined by all the lights

Even the noise of my own thoughts was almost drowned

It was freezing

Near zero, wasn't it?

There was actual ice in the river!

But my body felt aflame

And it just took half a second.
September 24, 2018

I remember when I found hope for love on a freezing cold night.
The cage was flooded with the rushing black

With only two small holes to drain it through

Reach, but in vain; grasp only the untrue

Loves and smiles, which in pure I have lacked

Reach! But in vain! For the the fruits are too far

One must crack the wood that surround their Self

Your consciousness, into which you must delve

And then, you'll find the true person you are



I've began to break the walls that were built

However I felt nothing but clean guilt

I was forced to spill the water on those

Who chanced to be close to me. I'm sorry.

It's more stressful than I'd hoped it would be

But now I guess I'll just see how this goes
September 21, 2018

I apologize to my parents about the burden I made them share.

I tried to write a sonnet, mainly because it was something new, and I figured I should at least try.
Hundred degrees

Under the blistering heat

And all I feel is cold



A melodramatic

Extreme problematic

Most of what I'm told



Vacant feeling

Empathy failing

My cracked and hardened soul



A lone old stone-cold soul
September 20, 2018

I find it weird and sad how I feel cold inside on a hot summer day.
I've a library full of memories

With a key for every one

Play the key watch me lose

My senses into the sun



The moments of silence

And I walk among the shelves

Wandering these lost times

I can hurt or cure myself



The first few notes begin to play

My heart begins to race

I redden as she looks at me

With a smile on her face



Across the table from me

With ice cream in her hand

Two years and I still miss her;

But she's no longer my best friend



The first verse rings in my ear

Before it's even there

I see the Pennsylvania hills

And feel the humid air



Listening to my music

Gazing through the window a lot

Hours I'm stuffed in the car

Listening to my thoughts



Now the bridge has come

Walking away from my home

Tears are in my mother's eyes

As she sees how far we've grown



It's my first year of middle school

And I'm a nervous wreck

The future is so cloudy

I don't know what to expect



The tempo builds and he is there

My first ans closest friend

We play together in the sandbox

But our bond was soon to end



It's the last base drop

And the winter's a sharp chill

I have a sled under my arm

As I look far down Cobb's Hill



The final keys are struck

My hand ***** into a fist

As I feel the rushing anger

And see the blood on my wrist



Only a few more seconds

The song is almost done

I feel the breeze as I bike

Under the scarlet sun
September 18, 2018

I explain how some songs bring me back to certain times in my life.
I thought they'd help me calm the waves

But they only sped them up
September 17, 2018

I feel anger for my counselor, even though they did nothing wrong.
Next page