as a kid a ***** head broke in to my single father’s house he stole my xbox most of our food and sent my family into a spiraling depression the broken glass reminded me of diamonds ones that i wish i could give back to my broken family
walking past fountains of roses, she caressed them with her hands. soft petals kissed her fingers and thorns, piercing the pads of her fingertips.
wandering to the golden pond, lying down. letting her hands play in the fronds of the grass, flicking up glistening emeralds of water that glimmered in the sun. flickering moons, fresh diamonds, new life so quickly taken.
written whilst listening to your song by elton john
I cast my pearls before a blind man. I assumed he could appreciate my open hand. Some share diamonds with blind men scorpions. Assuming they are worthy champions. Poets offer gifts freely at broad doors. Usually these are doors that can't understand metaphors. Poor hearts some just can't relate. They can't consume a healthy poetic plate.
There are those that will say speak plainly to me. Keep it easy and elementary. But for a poet there's revelation in the mystery. Often we feel they just don't get me. The less you read write learn or explore.. The less you want to dive into the brains deep shores. I could give you a plain white flower. Or I can decorate it give it colorful power. If you don't understand the reasons. That there are beautiful things in all the seasons. And how every dish has its flavors. How every emotion is relevent enhanced with its vapors.
Then I will just have to understand.. and pull back my gifted hands.
I'll give you a 1 and not a 2.. I'll give the less and let that do for you. I'll keep my poetic expressions. You'll not slander my word therapy notations.
My gifted juicy stories.. will be like vibrant leaves. Bouncing freely on strong big trees. Ready for the picking, for those that love reaching. Those that love climbing. Those that love giving, sowing, planting and achieving. We all will keep glowing in sunlight.. Rays of knowledge colorful simmering delight.
Yes sometimes we try to share some sunshine..Even with the blind.. Some chose to stay blind. But if you could get to feel the light. Would you still put up such a fight. Poetic liberty is justice for me..It sets the captive free. Poetic Therapy is soulful, bringing every emotion possible. Poetry.. Unveils or conceals situations of lifes mystery. By SelinaSharday..2019..S.A.M
I'm tired. Not that tired which makes you stay in bed. But the one that makes you wish you did. I think about life and the value it has. It can be worth more than diamonds and gold. Or it can be worth less than coal. I chose the second option because I'm tired. But if I rest my life, put it on hold and let myself breath, I could make life more valuable. Yet, I wish I was in bed and sometimes I'm guilty of wishing I was dead.
Thought I had become nearly as hard as brass As my mind drifts aimlessly throughout the grass But still, the pressures of the world continue to hammer Yet who is to argue a diamond’s beauty and glamour?
For at the end of the day, I’ll be crushed into dust And my soft flesh-bag form is all but robust And the perfection of a stone that withstands the cold air Is subject to pressure but continues without a care
The diamond is pure; the diamond is correct We all ought to give it its deservéd respect Because a diamond has no weakness or any sort of flaw Unlike the simple humans that gaze at it in awe
I can almost hear it speak; give it your full attention As it so rightfully boasts without a slight hint of pretension That my sad pouring eyes and my chaotic plagued mind Resembles nothing that belongs to its perfect carbon kind.
So mine mine mine out the caves in your brain As the diamonds dryly watch as you all go insane.
She fears that she'll drown in her tearstained diamonds, or expose her rough skin to find no more vermilion rubies. She becomes a ruined landscape as she brushes the black jewels out of her matted hair, even if her emerald eyes aren't tough enough to withstand that pain.
She dreads for the moment when the world will not accept her own beauty. Why can't she understand? Why can't she realise? Though she holds the rare jewels of a king, no one shall buy those cursed gems.