little thought, little
nudge, little step
little push, little
drop of confidence
little bucket to fill
little hush, little
conversation
little discourse
little smirk, little
understanding
little point, little
laugh, little soldiers
in little lines, little
waste, little fear
little lies, little
significance.

Everyone thinks,
"It'll get easier when I get older"
Then you get older
And you find no one's there,
No one to share,
No one to say,
"Hey,
I stay because I care"
Or
"Let's get through this together"
Making it harder than ever before
Not wanting to remember
Not even a single chapter
Though at one point,
When I was younger,
I think I use to matter

©2024

(a second time posting)


T'was a short poem I was reading...
I had started writing
My comments,
When...
Along came a very strange feeling,
With very strange thoughts:

"This... has exactly happened before...
This poem...I have read before...
Written these very same thoughts before!"

Over and over, I blinked... had to make sure...
But, all at once... one brief moment...
I found myself seated beside a grand piano,
By a wide ostentatious stairway,
In a bright, candle-lit mansion...
But, stranger still, while I was writing,
My eyes strayed to my right,
To a mirror by the wall...
I saw a handsome young man,
With slightly long curly hair,
Wearing a long-sleeved, white ruffled shirt
And a pair of dark pants,
Holding paper and quill,
Looking back at me.

I was staring at myself!!!

I was holding the paper,
Where I had written my thoughts,
About a poem titled,
"....WILT...."



Sally

Copyright November 5, 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

::::::

             Below is Timothy's poem,
             the reason for my "Deja Vu."


WILT

The wilting of the flowers;
Ephemeral bubble bursts;
The last grains of sand run out;—
I wilt just like flow'rs.


~Timothy~
Dodoitsu.
© Timothy 30 July, 2013.