In the end, you'll have nothing
Towards the end,
You'll probably be confined to a small room,
With only a few things
And no one will visit or call
Maybe no one even thinks of you at all
They'll consider you a burden to society
Urging you to rest
As they anticipate your last breath
Because all they see is a paycheck
Maybe you've never been in love
Or maybe you have,
But the memories are lost on you
Maybe you're still living in the moments
Waiting for your husband to come home
Only, he's been dead
Longer than you've been confused
Maybe you'll cry yourself to sleep
Maybe you'll pass hours watching tv
Maybe you won't leave your room,
Towards the end,
You'll only have a few things
And in the end,
You'll be nothing
© 07/25/22 Rebecca Brenes All Rights Reserved
© 03/06/22 Rebecca Brenes All Rights Reserved
My best friend is just as crazy as me
Somedays she is clear skies,
Others she is cloudy.
But she is beautiful in both.
And loves with grace and vulnerability.
Connected by the sea,
The ocean and boards are all that we need.
Rain or shine, she’s by my side.
And even when we don’t agree,
I know that I am seen.
Soft as lilac, bold as crimson,
Inside and out.
You have shown me what true love is all about.
© 04/23/21 Rebecca Brenes All Rights Reserved
I have friends in High Places,
floating atop mushroom clouds of ecstasy
in otherworldly dimensions
pioneering the mental landscape,
explorers of the mind and soul
breaking free of the Iron Cage
living to Love
working only to get by
to a place
where mere existence
In honor of Bicycle Day. And inspired by the poetic ramblings of Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac.
© 04/19/21 Rebecca Brenes All Rights Reserved
I tried to warn you the box was fragile.
But you held it and shook it,
Until it became too much to carry.
Then you dropped it.
And I heard my heart
shatter on the floor.
© 04/18/21 Rebecca Brenes All Rights Reserved
Pulling meaning from existence,
Casting words and spelling stories
Onto a blank page.
Resurrecting feelings and memories,
Freezing time and space just to capture a moment.
I am a poet.
© 04/05/21 Rebecca Brenes All Rights Reserved
the worst pain is
the day after.
when you wake up