"catherina" poems
On my nightstand, there is a beautiful music box Ballerina
She is stunning, passionate and young, her name is Catherina
Catherina used to dance in circles without ceasing
to the same note, her only purpose was people-pleasing
Whenever someone would open the box and wind it up on repeat
she continued dancing, on demand, ignoring the pain in her feet
Nobody cared how she felt, as long as she kept turning
like a clock, that never stops, she felt her passion burning
The older she turned, the more pain she had to go through
she couldn’t escape ‘cs she was tied to a strong *****
the music started to sound uncanny
she wished she didn’t have to see
So she made her tears red, voluntarily
to escape into her own imaginary
Jun 13, 2025
Jun 13, 2025 at 9:26 PM UTC
She was ambitious,
driven to succeed at life,
but could also
be incredibly chill
and had
a great sense of humor.
I even asked myself,
"Could such a woman
even exist?"
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
It has been
one year
and still not a day
goes by where I don't
regret
letting you go
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 2:06 PM UTC
Catherina Deveraux
It was a Sunday in August, late at night, there were many rats
eating left over from a chippy
when I met my informant, she said the revolution was imminent
they were going to take over the town of Faro.
I warned about it in an email, and it was ignored,
Catherine a famous French star warned about it a few days later,
while my email was ignored, hers became a runaway success
And that is the difference if you have named the public
listen, if you speak the truth as an average Joe you will
be utterly ignored, but then I'm quite used to have an opinion
more illustrious figure adopts that is pleasing.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 6:41 AM UTC