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Feb 2021 · 193
Bit of Truth and Fun
Amber Heaney Feb 2021
Why can’t I ever seem to write?
As well others do or might?

The wondrous imagery created
By skilful poets, leaves me deflated

Their similes and metaphors
Have me thinking ‘Of course! Of course!’

Why couldn’t I, (didn’t I) think of that?
My brain battery is running flat

Still, I enjoy every poem read
And on that thought, I’m off to bed.
Jan 2021 · 626
1/20/21
Amber Heaney Jan 2021
Hope reigns
Injustice fades
Love remains
A brand new day
Jan 2021 · 162
Unforgiven
Amber Heaney Jan 2021
I can’t forgive what you did
It was your duty to protect
Yet you threw your innocent
To a wolf

I can’t forgive what you did
Yet I know
It is not the sum
Of who you are

I can’t forgive what you did
Even though my heart
Misses part of you
Your suffering is deserved
Amber Heaney Jan 2021
This is a story
All about
How important it is
To let feelings out

It’s dangerous to hold them in
But where to start?
Where to begin?

There once was a girl
Who loved to write
All of the day
And all of the night

She’d pen observations
Her feelings and fears
Poetry, stories
Paper up to her ears

These thoughts weren’t for others
Just for herself
Her private emotions
For her own bookshelf

One day an invader
Snuck in to read
Her private thoughts
What a ***** deed?!

When the girl discovered
Her privacy breached
She vowed never again
To put herself on a sheet

She’d hold things inside
Keep them in her own brain
Where no one could read them
See her joy or her pain

She promised herself
She’d take time to reflect
Not writing stuff down
Wouldn’t have an effect...

But slowly she found
She had less and less time
To acknowledge her thoughts
To stop, think and refine

Her ideas became jumbled
Squished inside of her head
With no way to release them
She was confused instead

Life became busy
And years passed real quick
Sadness overcame her
And she became sick

Then a teacher encouraged
Her to write feelings down
Remembering she once did
Brought on a frown

But she built up the courage
And decided to try
Her teacher promised
No one would pry

Slowly she began
To write things again
And feeling flowed
From the end of her pen

Her mood was lifted
A sentence at a time
It felt tremendous
Wonderful, sublime!

She promised herself
Right there and then
Never would she stop
Using paper and pen

To let out her feelings
It was her release
The way to maintain
Her inner peace

So, the moral is
For your own health
Whatever YOUR outlet
Express yourself!

By Amber Heaney 2021 ©
Party inspired by my recent return to writing verse. Partly inspired by my children and students. I would very much like to hear feedback, I imagine this as a children’s (8-12yos) picture book.
Jan 2021 · 1.2k
Bed Time
Amber Heaney Jan 2021
Side by side
Yet miles apart
Misunderstanding
A broken heart

One tired, One awake
One oblivious to
The other’s hurt feelings
Their point of view

When the sun rises
Both will pretend
Nothing has happened
Nothing to mend

This way a small rip
Can become a large tear
If no party takes
The time to repair
Jan 2021 · 1.3k
Gone
Amber Heaney Jan 2021
I found
Your picture
And it
Didn’t hurt
To look
At first
Then I
Longed for
The stabbing
Pain in
My heart
Almost
As much
As I
Long for
You
More grief. Different stage.
Dec 2020 · 149
Teenage Angst
Amber Heaney Dec 2020
Life is a ditch, in which we sit
Digging, digging
Trying to find a way out
Searching, searching
Until we find the light
Wrote this many (many) moons ago as a frustrated teen. I chuckled when I discovered it, looked to my teenage son, and remembered what it was like to feel such keen emotion.
Dec 2020 · 140
Escape
Amber Heaney Dec 2020
Facing the monster
I jumped into the abyss
Falling was freedom
Had planned this as a longer poem but the gist fit well in Haiku form
Dec 2020 · 102
Intangible
Amber Heaney Dec 2020
It is solitary
In the morning
To rouse
And remember
You are no longer tangible

Our memories exist
Only with me now
I cannot confer with you
Joke with you
Cry with you

Tears are my own
But not now
The prickling has stopped
Morning is numbness

It’s at night
I lay awake
Sobbing softy
Salt trickles reach my ears
Choking whimper

Bruised soul

‘And I miss you,
Like the deserts miss the rain’

You loved
Everything But The Girl

I loved
You
Dec 2020 · 80
Broken
Amber Heaney Dec 2020
Can you tell I’m broken?
I think I hide it well,
It takes a lot of effort,
Concealing my cracked shell.

It is just a masquerade,
This smile upon my face.
Inside I am empty. Smashed.
Pieces are displaced.

Pretending is the answer,
The way I spend my days.
As Bill said, we are but players,
The world is but our stage.

But Cohen said the crack in things,
Is how the light gets in.
Perhaps I should not be so scared,
To let others see my skin?

I know I’m not the only one,
Who feels empty, lost and bruised.
Brokenness more common,
That unbereaved or unabused

Still, this broken feeling,
Somehow seems more personal.
I don’t want to share my memories,
That means facing you are gone.
I wrote this after the loss of someone very dear to me. I began writing it a few months ago, and went back to complete it yesterday.

— The End —