Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I am a traveler
on a journey into your heart
a holy place
where I am in love.
 Sep 2020 Bobby Copeland
Lily
why?
 Sep 2020 Bobby Copeland
Lily
When
    did I become an acquaintance, an object you pushed to the side, only used when necessary?

When
    was I not the first person you texted with news, not the first person you would say hi to in the morning, the first person on your mind?

When
    did you cut me off with rainbow bruises and lightning scars, and the thunder of your footsteps left me alone?

When
    did you create that perfect storm, that hurricane, that took me away, so now I don’t even know you anymore and I don’t even know what I would say to you now?

When
    did you stop loving me and

Why?
this is a product of my english class
He never sings in stadiums
There are no curtain calls
He follows his musical heartstrings
That leads him to village halls.
Singing songs for a living
And he'll tell you he wrote a few
His love it is for music
And he is out there singing for you.
He travels around the country
Performing one night stands
He never makes much money
And he hasn't got a band.
He was never there with the big names
They just gave him a little slot
Then he doesn't  care for all that fame
He is happy for all that he has got.
Now he's been around for fifty years
And still doing his same kind of thing
His fans they are still out there
So he thanks them for everything.
Music is not all about fame.
 Sep 2020 Bobby Copeland
Whiskurz
"Daddy look at all the sandcastles"
"Aren't they all so grand?"
"Who could have known a king and his throne,
Could simply be made out of sand"

"Look at the beautiful towers"
"I wonder if a princess lives there"
"I'll bet she is kind, they're so hard to find,
With beautiful long flowing hair"

My daughter loved to go to the beach
She loved the sandcastles the best
But she didn't know her heart was too slow
And soon they would open her chest

It's funny sometimes how time can fly
It only seems like yesterday
There was a major complication with her operation
And my daughter has passed away

I still go to the beach from time to time
To see the sandcastles on display
I still close my eyes and part of me dies
Each time I hear her say

"Daddy look at all the sandcastles"
"Aren't they all so grand?"
"Who could have known a king and his throne,
Could simply be made out of sand"
There’s infinite universes,right?
I think you told me about some theory ,once upon a time, that there’s infinite universes,all different, in at least some minor aspect.
That means there’s one where dogs wear hats and clothes and walk people who try to eat squirrels.
That means there’s one where colorful dirt runs the world.
One where cities move on the back of giant reptiles
One where fairies kidnap people and magic is real.

I’d like that theory to be true.


I’d like to think it is,at least.
I’d like to think there’s one
Where I’m not empty inside.
One where we’re having burgers
At that place you liked- It had a color in its name, and the dog is barking and running around,and we’re laughing at some inside joke,and I don't consider jumping out the window every single day,and we’re happy.
inspired by the poem (The Multiverse Theory) by Autumn Stott and The worst ballad ever written by Harsha
Do you always feel the words you write or always write the words you feel?
Not such a simple question at all, is it?

If you'd go through your poems again at different points of time or different phases of life, you may feel differently about it.

To quote Led Zeppelin's Stairway To Heaven -
"There's a sign on the wall
But she wants to be sure
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings"

So, how do you feel now?
Next page