I had set my self a goal after Helen died and that was make her known to as many people I possibly could not only In this country but all over the world So far Its going very well but often In life If not a famous person when you die that It over, I was never going ever let that happen to Helen no way It all began last September 2017 with one poem which I was happy with, but always felt I could do more and I'm still writing now I just can't stop love writing about her keeps me happy the most Important factor to helping succeed In my goal Is the truly amazing support I've received from all you fellow poets Who have given me amazing support by reading my poems of Helen I write from those who have written there first poem to those who have written hundreds I can't thank you enough for all your support You have turned me who had never written a poem to being a confident writer but helping me In my goal to keep Helen memories so very much alive bless all of you and thank you sincerely JB Walker
Another thank you to all of lovely kind people who helped me with wonderful support by reading my poems of Helen I write helped me succeed In my goal of keeping her memory alive
Overwhelmed is a term tossed around to the point of underwelming. I am a depressed person in a glass cage, with no way to hide my fear. Like a million little cuts across my body, and not a **** one distracts me from myself. I feel like I'm pounding on the glass screaming, "I wish you would just be happy!"
I'm a depressed person wanting telling a depressed person the worst things to say to depressed people. The irony is a silent needle that sews the lips shut. Pretend you're alseep while pretending to be alive. I sacrifice myself for others worthy of the life. Exhausting to carry their burdens, and the tears they can't actually cry. Faces rest in palms as if hands are any sort of shelter. Inability to let things go makes me feel like I have to rip them apart. Living like this makes you ill beyond belief. All I want is a good night's sleep.
Pourquoi ça m’a arriver? Pourquoi j’ai reçu cette Miracle? Pourquoi pas les autres? Pourquoi pas quelqu’un d’autre? Pourquoi moi?
Il y’a des gens beaucoup plus important que moi: Des enfants, Des mères, Des pères, Je ne suis personne. Ça devrait être quelqu’un d’autre: Le petit garçon qui cri pour ça mère chaque nuit, L’homme qui devient juste être père, Le Grand-père qui a tout ça famille entouré de lui, Pourquoi moi et pas eux? Je ne le comprend pas!
Je ne peux pas exprimer comment je suis heureux, Mais au même temps triste pour les autres. Je veux reconstruire ma vie. Chaque jours est important, Alors je ne veux pas les gaspiller. Je vais les utiliser pour faire du bien. Je ne sais pas comment encore, Mais maintenant c’est ma seul objective de vie. Je ne veux pas que ça soit pour rien.
By Coco 07
Miracles are a huge blessing but can also be hard to accept. Les miracles sont incroyable mais ça peut être dure à les accepter.
Seeing others happy was hard once I would sob and weep at the sight of a couple holding hands in the park I would scowl and hiss when someone would mention what makes them happy So I put on a mask and I painted it yellow and drew a smile and I kept it on my face for years Occasionally people wanted to see under my mask But when I would show them they would walk away as they saw something that could not be fixed Like a glass vase broken into such fine pieces, you'd think it was a powder So I would put my mask back on and repaint it when people started to get interested However one day someone came by and said they would like to see under my mask Though I knew it was dangerous I revealed it to them and they began to glue my pieces back together I noticed that she had some broken parts herself so I did my best to stitch them together like an endless jigsaw puzzle After a while, I threw away my mask and my paint and my brushes Then I realized the tables had turned in a way I would have never thought Others saw us happy and would hiss and sob The only difference is If someone shows us what's under their mask we won't walk away
Love you no matter what Every day good and bad All I need is a little appreciation For the memorable years we have had You are welcome for stroking your head On those nautious nights we faced They have worn us thin in spots We are stronger from being in that dark place I will always do my best to protect you From each threat we find ourselves staring at In return all I ask is for you to tell me I look beautiful when I'm feeling sad and fat Thanks for your patience Waiting for me to get ready And when I can't contain rage For keeping your voice calm and steady We balance eachother like a scale You're the yin to my yang, the no to my yes, We disagree often but the one thing we do agree on Is that we couldnt love eachother any less
A poem I wrote FOR my mom TO my dad for their anniversary if that makes sense... rotfl!
Thank you for letting me share Showing me you really care Opening your heart to me As i shared my history Listened with an open mind Never judging always kind Thanks for showing that you care With compassion that is rare Being what i needed friend As my soul you tried to mend thanks for being who you are