Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Nov 2013 Tessa Simons
Courtney
I used to sit,
and think
about all those times
that I've been hurt.
I would sit here,
in this very spot
and reflect on why I simply hate
everything.
I would sit for hours in self-pity,
and that was normal for me.

I never really understood,
why nothing ever changed.
Why everything constantly stayed the same,
no matter what I did.
Day by day,
I waited
for everything to get better.
It didn't
I waited for happiness
to come to me.

But now things are different.
Not just different,
better.
so much better.
Now,
I can make my own life happen.
I'm done waiting.
Do you remember when we were young?
we didn't listen,
we never held our tongue,
now those times are old,
and these days are dark,
as dark as a coal miners lung,  

Through thick and thin,
we found our way,
whether it be grim,  
or just the darkening grey,
on those dim, confusing days,

We lay'd in the park,
i gazed upon the stars,
you rolled and i remember every time the lighter would spark,
everyone would share the cask,
of cheap wine,
and speak about the past
just to get the troubles out of our mind,

Those times are more valuable than anything locked in a treasury,
lost in time,
but never lost in my mind,
forever in my memory.
Eating my meal at the usual fast food spot,
Public intimacy at the counter,
That love bird love,

Seeing person after person walk in,
So many memories in this very seat,
From back then,

Some moved on, some still in touch,
Those days when adrenalin was frequent,
The blood, my heart, would rush,

I still remember sitting on that hill,
In isolation staring out,
Into the stars and clouds,
Wondering what life's about,

This poem, written on a fast food napkin,
Concentration clouded,
By the noise of laughter and a screaming kid tantrum

The skate home that night,
My jacket shielded the cold from my neck,
It was 1 o'clock, no people, no cars in sight,
Except,

That one police car flying by,
Colors of blue and red,
With it sirens ringing,
Past my head.
 Nov 2013 Tessa Simons
HDI
The way I see it is

There are two types of people in this world
People who work to design and people who work to create
One isn't better than the other
The truth is, we need them both
If people didn't design things, then people could never create things
And if people didn't create things then we would have no history, stories or beliefs

Rome wasn't built in a day right?
Someone had to come up with the designs behind Rome
And then someone had to make these designs come true

Each one of us needs to work out what type of person we are
Are we designers or are we creators?
And then and only then will we truly be happy
Title really explains it
 Nov 2013 Tessa Simons
duncan
i always wanted love.
never found it, but always wanted it.
true love.
not the fake love I saw around me.

i had a fake love.
bought her flowers.
as the flowers died, so did our love.

if I find my true love, I’d buy her fake flowers.
as do the flowers, our love will last forever.

                          -duncan
I Dreamt a Dream! what can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen:
Guarded by an Angel mild;
Witless woe, was neer beguil’d!

And I wept both night and day
And he wip’d my tears away
And I wept both day and night
And hid from him my hearts delight

So he took his wings and fled:
Then the morn blush’d rosy red:
I dried my tears & armd my fears,
With ten thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again;
I was arm’d, he came in vain:
For the time of youth was fled
And grey hairs were on my head
Your sorry for my pain
  And sorry for my sorrow
Sorry for the mess you made
   That ******* up my tomorrow
But are you sorry for my heartache?
    Sorry for your mistake?
Sorry for all the things,
     That you let him take?
Are you sorry that im crying?
      And feel like i am dying?
Sorry that it hurts so bad that
       I dont feel like trying?
  Are you sorry for the words you said
       That cut me like a knife?
  Sorry for the pain I've felt for my entire life?
        Are you sorry that you hurt me?
  Sorry that im not free?
      What i really need to know
  Is that your really
          SORRY!
I could talk to you for hours and keep a smile on the phone
We could walk on the beach, as it's your hand that I hold
I can look into your eyes
And be so genuinely hypnotized
Thinking how truly lucky I am to have a woman like you be mine
I can ask you any question, anywhere, any time
And know when you're hurting bad cause I can read all your signs
Be the support that you need and the bandage to help you heal
Slow kisses to your navel and let you know our affection is real
I'll miss you when you're gone
But know ill see you soon
Every time I see your smile
My love for you re blooms
Light tickles to your hand
I know you love that light touch
I know you love butterfly kisses
I know what to say to make you blush....
(Alarm clock)
****, it was all just a dream...she's not mine and those words don't mean a thing
I just imagine all we could be...and want it so much
Guess I've become a firm believer in hope...in my imaginary crush.
We can all relate to pain and wanting something we just can't have
A man enters a flower shop
and decides on some flowers
the florist wraps them up
as the man puts his hand into his pocket
to find the money,
the money to pay for the flowers
but at the same time
suddenly
he places a hand over his heart
and falls

As he falls
the money rolls around on the floor
and the flowers fall
with the man
with the money
and the florist stands there
as the money rolls
as the flowers ruin
as the man dies
it's obviously all very sad
and she really should do something
this florist
but she doesn't know how to go about it
she doesn't know
where to start

There are so many things to do
for this dying man
these ruining flowers
and this money
this rolling money
that won't stop.
Like the first gulp of air on a frosty morning…
or a majestic view from halfway to the heavens..
the moment I saw your smile…
you took my breath away
By John Thomas

http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com
Next page