#writerssociety
It was raining over clouds
I found he is searching to get a shelter
He never lost a hope
What triggered him to attempt his best
As he walked every mile
He heard a soul speaking to him
Just as he heard, it was me standing in pain
He felt we need to move on
Irrelevant even if what it may
Just as he heard my cries
He took a lead to show me a shelter
and
He left himself alone in rain forever
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 7:21 AM UTC
Carry me through Golden period of love
Feel me so close if so
Its more precious moments between us
Care you gave me
Need you felt for me
Desperate our soul for togetherness
My only love mine ever
This one completes my world
Passionately I declare to say
I won't get any replacement ever
Never .....
As he is ever mine for ever.....
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 5:04 AM UTC
Born into this world, that's filled with color
Hoping just to be kind to one and other
A blank canvas, on a artists wall
Moulded like a flower, ever so small.
Actions you take, steps you make
Decisions you've made, due to someone's aid
A painting, brushed by the colors all around you
All these colors, but which one to choose?
Maybe indigo, or teal to be as strong as steel
Or sapphire is your style, a black fire that's versatile
Turquoise if you're weird, cyan too
Ultramarine to be feared, or just an ol midnight blue.
All these colors to look up to
But in the end, we are all just shades of blue.
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 1:05 AM UTC
Sometimes you wonder if you're significant
After all there is 7 billion of us, how am I any different?
Maybe there is someone out there that is just like me
Talks like me, walks like me, thinks like me, but isn't me.
The ego we have to think we are special
A speck of dust made of star stuff on aboard a giant vessel
Hurdling through space at magnificent speeds
Yet going no where, just staying still it seems
The moonlight seems real, the sunlight warm
But does it matter? It doesn't mean much after all
You start dying the moment you were born
Start your journey as a rose just to be a thorn.
In a thousand years we'll be long gone
maybe what we write here would live on.
Ten minutes after this is written, ten days a year or a hundred
Would you have been the last person to have read this I wondered.
Seems insignificant doesn't it, quite demeaning
So enjoy the little things in life, maybe that's what gives us meaning.
A nice cup of tea or a good book to read
Telling a loved one how much you love them, for that moment would seem insignificant, but to them it would mean everything.
©trevordemello
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 3:37 AM UTC