#unsung
joined up footprints
memory is a journey
back along the path.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 8:37 AM UTC
I was 26 when dreams were gone
And I lay a corpse
A day as every other
Set of work and more
It never occurred twice
To savour this life a little more.
Through this day
I only remain a memory
I have lived short
Was it the wrong order
Or a quick thought
I haven't questioned yet.
It seems okay, to let go
To leave you behind
I am sorry for parting soon
I will be waiting.
-D
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 3:08 AM UTC
Awake, the empty chamber of my mind
Calls out to paired and endless sky
The thought of you, a galloped course
The heels of your palm, struck with force
I cannot claim the earth as mine,
Just as she do flee the pick of eye
To wallow in sorrows of course divine
Calls out my heart, with verses hoarse.
I have but land to wander soon,
My passions held in heaven's sent
The ancient glass of sky full hue
The earth's embrace a lover's swoon
The soft edges of aluminium bent
These are the ways I'll remember you.
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 7:51 PM UTC
eerily summoned
lonely
drifting
on
unknown
paths
forlorn
bereft
mislaid in
strange
places
unhinged senses
surreal thoughts
chilling dreams
lunatic demons
unholy ghosts
songs unsung
in
minor chords
music unnoted
in
words unheard
crazed
movements
undanced
meaningless
nothingness
psychotic
paranoid
hopeless
useless
insipid
devoid
zero
nil
0
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 1:16 PM UTC
Every time
I think I'll stop
I'm not getting
through to you
Every time
I think it's useless
that I'm talking
till I'm blue
Every time
I bite my tongue
and want my song
unsung
Every time
I think that I'm insane
I open up
and words fall out again
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 9:48 AM UTC
I'm done
I'm tired of unfinished songs unsung,
The goals, the things, the one
I know will make the way clear. Destiny.
It's choice, its worth, its certainty.
Words like lasers with direction
Are meaningless without proper action.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 1:37 AM UTC
As the little minds drift off to sleep with a strife,
the unsung heroes of the night come to life.
Protection from the succubus of the eventide,
using their powers of whim with a glide.
Stitched smiles and button eyes defend the adolescents
under the shine of crescents.
While the nightmares attempt to emerge,
the guardians uphold with a surge.
Unable to pirate their minds,
they dissipate with a wind.
The unsung heroes take their win with a fain,
therefore the children of the world are safe again.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 11:00 PM UTC
We are the unsung poets
who toil in day for the harvests
then write at night as the wick burns
in the dark slips of our meek turns
We are the unseen poets
who invisibly raise armours
swing pens as the dark evades the light
a strip to the core of the soul,our right
We are the trampled heroes
whose halos are out-shined by thunder
and tongues tied to a word twisted silence
Our heavenly seduction of a naked dance
I am the unsung poet
inspired by love and rhythm of life
transpired by the ounce of human experience
My eternal contract that only makes sense
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 11:34 AM UTC
~~~
The unsung heroes
They work every day
Without complaint
At a job with low pay.
There are not many are out there
Who place their laurels
On the person who's right
But ends a quarrel.
It takes a person
Internally strong
To accept a defeat
And say they were wrong!
Those little things matter!
But don't get much ink
Like the husband who shaves
And cleans up the sink!
The mother who picks up
The toys from the stairs
The wife who cleans drains
And removes the hair.
The child who sees
That grandma is old
And therefore replaces
The toilet roll!
The boyfriend who remembers
The day of first date
A girl who pays dutch
To help out her mate.
Remember that you
Are needed and wanted!
So many small tasks
Are taken for granted.
At last the bell
Is taken and rung
For the persons who do this...
... the heroes unsung.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
I learned he'd died through a friend of a long distance friend.
I heard he had snuffed it.
Kicked the bucket instead of the usual rock into a gutter.
'Give me another', he'd say until his eyes went glassy and his face went numb.
Until the hands dropped from the weight of his fingers.
No one lingers to watch.
No one ogles the brilliant light of dawn over this collapsed stranger.
New and old to the neighborhood, we all stood where he once stood.
We all walked away from that place.
His mouth agape but no words can escape the blue lips of a fading memory.
He is dead and his time died with him.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC