A body lays slain facedown in a pool of blood a halo to match her name stabbed 4 times in the chest a street worker like all the rest who would want to her hurt her? - to put her to rest your guess is as good as mine she may have not been the best but someone was prepared to cross that line. ———————— An innocent as far as I could tell first night on the job tell me who goes to hell? - those who give or those who rob her next of kin were called so that they could name her once at birth and now at death twice they tried to save her an umbilical cord wrapped around her neck a noose just two months earlier maybe now she got her wish released back to the sea this angel fish.
She was someone’s daughter
we are all humans just the same if life has anything taught us that we are never dead just released from our pain
I can see you there
standing in your studio relishing in the faces of your followers creaming their jeans over your creations lightbulbs hanging from the cealing by telephone cords and photographs of babies dressed as dictators trying to prove that innocence still exists when we both know that this world was robbed of its innocence a million years ago you might fool some people but I can see right through you professional hipster, wearing tie dye underneath your skin and an overpriced suit on the outside painting your lips with designer brand translucent rasberry lipstick and kissing your acquaintances a kiss for each cheek I want to know how you can fake it so well hiding behind your little purple door counting money while I’m busy counting lies was it easy to push your dreams so far away so deep in the back of your mind that they may as well be in your shoes did you ever think you’d be here that you’d sell your soul to the devil because I’m afraid that you might be my future and I would rather stand at the end of the dock with Mr.Gatsby gazing at the green light across the river holding on to hope forever
She was born with the brightest eyes like the first dawn of spring
Her soul was a precious gift meant to be kept and held tight by only herself The dawn eyes turned to a summers green leaves She held tight to her soul letting in only goodness and hope The eyes that mirrored the trees began to fall like the leaves in autumn Although she tried to keep her soul for herself she began to give small pieces to those undeserving Those eyes that were once filled with color were frozen like the coldest winters day A soul that once was her most precious gift was lost and soon forgotten
I know I know
The things we don’t understand Asking you to hold my hand Yet again Your innocence Like those eyes—my sixth sense Your protection—my amens; My “I can’s”
stranded at sea, and i am
surrounded by a lonely blue with thoughts as my only companions and guilt for my fallen crew i bear colors of war against pale blue sangria red and dirtied white torn fabric and stained innocence from choosing myself as the sacrifice there was a golden age when i was once hailed as a hero but those days have ended now delusions shattered by war's arrow all i am now is a captain without a crew a pirate with sinking treasures and ship slivers of the person i once was i have taken one too many hits all i have is this broken, grey compass the needle spins wildly, unpredictable, like the sea i have finally lost sight of true north, or perhaps it is time the world has finally lost me change sweeps me through the sea rinse, scrub, dry so, and repeat gone the stains of another life reborn again as a simple someone, just me crimson blood washes into the sea and a makeshift white flag flutters under the sky this tattered shirt is all that is left of my fight i am just another sailor, lost at sea tonight
I never saw eyes, Like hers, now we walk together, Lake water sparkles. .
His blushed cheeks,
that subdued shyness, Magical hues in his eyes, vivid memories of first love, Kisses landed on my lips softly like a butterfly, Moments rendered by unspoken words immortalized in my heart.
I participated in today's writing prompt by Author Melisa Quigley and I must say I enjoyed writing this poem!
Young faces bright with dignity
and unmolested conscience, Unclouded minds, saintly beings with unclipped wings, Unaware of the conspiracy, Or, the burdens they'll be forced to bear in the machine society, They'll be embedded in the mass production mechanism, With no life to speak beyond their console.
Young children are stripped of their freedom, ingenuity and creativity via years of indoctrination.
with a childish smile discovering the surroundings A little girl and her innocence are those which many find incredibly delighting After years and years of uncontrollable curiosity her innocence is distant as it seems to fade away uncaptured by the very glance of her pure eyes