Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
R W Jun 2013
A lion on my left
a tiger to my right
they're sweet
house cats in all actuality
wouldn't harm a fly

until the titles come
and stereotypes must be
perpetuated

so they
with their personalities stripped
keep their vicious reputations
alive
**** for their names
the title that begs them to

"soldier."
*This is based off a picture I saw in a history lecture.  It got to me and I started writing. It address the humanity of the soldiers fighting, and if they were truly present in that moment or not.*
http://usarmy.vo.llnwd.net/e2/-images/2008/10/21/24095/army.mil-2008-10-21-053504.jpg
(2013)
R W Jul 2013
I walk through the doors,
and the wall closes in.
I stand, shoulders squared
and fight it.
It might have a grip,
but I'm in control.
It might win the battle,
but the war's just begun.

I throw down my bag
and brace myself.
Soon to be free,
I take nothing and jump,
not caring what falls;
it doesn't matter to me.

They chase me and fight,
but I'm soaring too high
to be touched.
The wall comes to life,
dancing with colours.
It screams and it whispers,
shouting: me.

They know I have gone,
So they try to pull down.
But I'm out of sight,
So now,
I'm free, in control.

The wall is now mine, is
free.
(2010)
R W May 2015
On days like these
I like to go outside and
puzzle.

The sky is blue and the breeze smells sweetly of things growing;
does anyone smell that?
Do only I smell the curiosity?

People say:
Heaven is up,
Hell is down.

BUT
if you go up as far as humanly possible,
into the atmosphere and through the hole in the ozone,
where did anyone find the pearly gates?
And if you go and dig for years,
will you ever find the fallen angel?
(Does he have bruises?, I wonder)

If we cannot physically find any of it,
who can say what it is;
looks like?

Why is Heaven up?
why not, to the left?
The right?

Are we talking in relation to Earth, or
The Milky Way?
The universe?
Just ours?
(Are there more?)

I cannot say any of this for sure.
What I can say for sure
is that grass tickles my face.

I can say that Earth is round,
clouds are beautiful,
and foxes are elusive.

On days like these
I always finish the puzzle.
Kind of.
This is not a biographical writing, but in a way, sure, it is.  Not my favorite, but I was asked to write a poem and this is what came out.
R W Apr 2016
I'm sick of going to bed at 2 am,
driven not by sleeplessness
but hunger
I listen to the same music
all the time
but I just can't
                     *******
                              stop

I've been living in
my sad skull
for too long
I need a sledgehammer;
please help me see
more than my thoughts again

I speak to you
because I think you're sweet
but after you go
I'm left with even
more  sour thoughts
than before

I'm sick of going to bed at 2 am
when I put myself down
to silence my mind
(one stanza) To Corey.
R W Aug 2013
I miss you,
*******,
With my whole being.
You make me so
SCARED.
Scared to think that
I can be happy.
I'm having a great time,
Flirting with him,
But then I think
"****, I'm leading him on.
I can't do this.
I'm ruining this."
So, *******.
You ******* *******,
Who stole my heart
And returned it,
Shattered,
In a million pieces,
And no intention to fix me.
Oh, and by the way?
I **** at sewing.
To James.

— The End —