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Ray carty Mar 2019
Death, it's a hard thing,
It comes so unexpectedly,
Rips through everyone's heart,
Breaks it to pieces.
Death, it's hard to grasp,
Hard to comprehend,
Hard to wrap ourselves around,
But yet it goes around.
Death, it makes it's rounds,
Without prejudice, but full of pride,
And boastfulness,
Death.
Ray carty Jul 2018
Down stream, all the values go,
Where are the people I used to know,
That banner of strength, oh it waves so weakly,
Feeble with the fear of speaking freely,
Mind you P's and your Q's,
Sharpen your handles, don't let it go askew,
Speak carefully and dread won't follow you,
If you slip up they will be sure to follow through,
Filled with hope? No that went away,
Faith? no it has backslidden out of the way,
Promise? Only that they will take your life,
Physically and mentally alike,
Ride the waves, is all they know,
Forget about what's good, it's ok to be evil,
Holding on to a figment of the past,
As our world and our lives slip right past,
Oh land is no longer free, the people no longer brave,
The people that fought for freedom, are not the same people fighting today,
The rockets are glaring, the bombs are bursting,
In a war you'd never thought was one,
A war for your daughter and your son,
A war that we must fight and fight to win,
Embody the spirit that came before us,
And bring hope, and faith again,
This is not the end.
Ray carty Jul 2015
Excuse me if I write my style,

Excuse me if I shoot a smile,

Towards your direction,

I can't help but question what went wrong,

And excuse me if I stare for too long,

I guess it's true, what I said about you being so beautiful,

And every time I write a love poem it hurts,

Like a thousand needles stabbing me at once,

But the one that hurts the most is the on that shoots my heart,

Cause I remember the time we said I love you,

I remember the late nights, with some but not many verbal fights,

It was like, we were on a cloud in flight,

Moving just right,

And every night I say it to myself,

I lost the most precious thing I ever gained,

And you took a chance with me, to let us be,

But I guess another go is too much to ask for,

But know I still think of you, still dream of you,

But if I can't get you back then this thing I felt was not real,

Will soon be,

Cause i am here and your not next to me.
Ray carty Aug 2015
All we have are rainy days,

all of our love is filled with pain,

all of our joy has been washed away,

and right before us is a stream of tears

a river cried out by you,

because of our tensions similar to the cold war

our cold fighting turn to hot

but then cools down and then were back,

to just spitting words that burn like a blazing fire

melts our ears like acid, and pierces our hearts like a spiraling arrow man,

these rainy days that we are in, this down pour and these hard winds,

our love is  a battlefield we're at war and it hurts

and we spread our wings but we don't seem to soar,

this hurricane has been here for days, over our heads,

spinning us into a depression, its like a straight line that we just can't bend

but still we apply pressure, though you try your best to change

you're in love with your sin,

as that good feeling from something so wrong haunts you,

paws at you pleading like a puppy waiting,

purring like a cat in anticipation, knowing that you are just saying,

you won't do it.

but yet you still get caught up in its draft and go back

and just like that our temporary peace breaks

and our demilitarized feelings get militarized once more,

and as we draw our swords and pull out our guns,

we hit each other like atomic bombs and ruin our land of love,

or at least our little figment of how it seems to be,

and we war and war for what seems like no end,

with words and your fists, but I don't bite back,

not even when I should, cause you've done it so many times,

you still blow away my urging mind,

and this fantasy I have in my mind of how our love should be

I knew we were meant to be,

but this fantasy is dwindling

and I pray it don't, now a wish

as I out this fire that we have spread,

this wildfire which goes on and seems as if there is no end,

our rainy days sees some sun,

but can we stand the rainy days......

until the sun comes.

— The End —