September Rose Mar 2018
Little house
Timeless street
Childhood garden

The scent of your preschool playground after a storm on a Wednesday in may

The distinguishable noise of your parents' doorbell

The weepy feeling looking at childhood photos and knowing you'll never get those moments back

The melancholy moment you realize the book you're reading was your favorite bedtime story

The second the atmosphere shifts and you're suddenly thrown back to memories of your mothers embrace on a stormy night

The suffocating feeling of revisiting tales thinning at the ends as your recollection slowly fades

The slipping grip of what once was that will never be again, slowly turning faded and acid washed until its nothing but a feeling you cant put a name to

Nostalgia
Cress Rosario Aug 2014
Looking back at the smiles that once shared
Faces that once brightened with love
Memories of the past we wished that could last
Laughter in our hearts we still hope to come back

Looking back to the years we could climb those trees
Running through the open field, shouting, "We're free!"
Had those million laughs when we got dirt on our faces
Realizing that our friends are dirtier than us

Looking back to the days we were young and loud
Looking back to the happiness that we almost forgot
When reality finally hits you it hurts
When the truth comes into focus it’s brutally painful.
Hope isn't always enough
It’s not always a happy ending.
What happens when faith is not enough?

I get hot flashes
My depression splashes
My soul is cold like stone,
the fear of being alone.

So now I lay me down to sleep
I pray you lord my soul to keep
Don’t let me die before I wake
I pray you lord my soul do not take.

I barely have a past
And may have no future
       Empty pages of a book
       A story left unwritten
       A life left unlived
       A hope left in the dust.
Please don't take me yet
Your mercy you won't regret
I am down on my knees
Begging you please
Don’t take me away.

At night I dream a misty graveyard
A tombstone the name I cannot see
A flashlight in the darkness
A figure so lifeless I cannot breathe.
Then I awake not as fearless as I may seem.

If this is my future
And if it comes to pass
And this breath be my last
Then this thought to you I cast.

What if faith is not enough?
Then life would be rather tough
With nothing to believe in
And nothing to justify
Nothing to keep you sane
Nothing to grasp when you fall
You will have nothing,
nothing at all.

Sometimes that is how I am
Falling in the darkness
With nothing to take hold
This feeling leaves me cold
hearted, soulless, empty.
All I feel is the pain of being unreal
No one knows how this life feels,
when you are so lifeless.

So now I lay me down to cry
I pray you lord you can't let me die.
Now I lay me down to sleep
Close my eyes without a peep
Never to be opened again.

Your body goes warm then cold like rain
Slowly your body numbs,
to your fingers and your thumbs.
As your body stops working, you feel the cold mist of death
And peacefully while you’re sleeping you take your final breath.
Read more at http://www.******-in-oncology.com

© 2016 Christine Mulvihill
Kevin J Taylor Sep 2017
Reminding me
of my first trike

The poetry of
red and white

The poetry of
pedaled motion

Piston footed!
Vision frozen!

Head and hair
gone separate ways!

Freedom found
on Glory Days!

Down the sidewalk
runway riding!

Faster! Faster!
Out of hiding!

Faster! Faster!
Spirit! Gliding!

Faster! Faster!
Up! And free!

My body can’t
catch up with me!

Somewhere in
the days between

I left my trike in
rusty scenes

Traded life
for lesser stuff

Left the trike
and kept the rust

Until a friend
came to my door

With gamesy thoughts
that life is more

Than failed hopes
and rusty bits—

Pointing skyward!
Tag! You’re it!
.
r m b May 2017
It's strange
how childhood felt
like a train ride
that would never stop
like reading a book
with an infinite number of pages

But now you're 19-turning-twenty
and the train has finally
come to a definite stop
the tracks have changed its path
and you've reached the end
the epilogue

It's time to move on
move along and grow up
step off that train
and on to the next adventure
close that book
and start a new chapter

Be brave and brace yourself
for there is more to come
beginnings can be daunting
because it also means
saying goodbye to a life
you've lived and loved.
Note to self.
Happy 20th to me.
hello adulthood I don't want to be here
Savanna Paige Aug 2018
All my life I was afraid
Anticipating the bad to appear 24/7
B/c truth be told, it did show up
Morning, noon, & night when the rest of the world was asleep
During those darkened hours fear still crept through
Those nights when you  didn't want to sleep w/ the enemy, your drunken body laid beside mine
Tossing & turning
Unconscious
  Arms flinging & words screaming
Fear came then
Confusion followed , not sure what was wrong w/ mommy
Little girl lost & afraid
Constantly trying to shove you awake & warn you that you were suffocating me.. mentally & emotionally
You never got the notice

All my life I was afraid
Threats through clenched teeth, fuming at the mouth
& a sweaty forehead signaled an angry man
Be aware!
Don't get too near, don't say the wrong words & don't bother at the wrong time
We feared approaching him when he wasn't on cloud nine
All others were bound to be storm clouds
Ready to rain down on anyone's parade Pounding his fist against walls
His blacken robe imitating a villain’s cape Wrapping his fingers around her neck
& beating us til we were lessons learned
george glass Dec 2015
my childhood was removed from me
inside of a blue mustang
and what remained after that
I tried to barter off the highest bidder
but I grew,
not up,
but forward
further away
slowly releasing
hands of defiance
fists chock full of hopeless words
like anger, the flavor that aches the bone,
the cold kind,
more barren than the green of Christmas lights
glimmering off the icy veneer of a white picket fence
overeager, in the apathy of theatrics,
to ***** off the remainder
because the empty feeling that followed
might one day
make a decent poem
Wayward Jul 2018
I was born out of fur and cotton,
With eyes that were shiny, black buttons.
From the store rack, I always watched the distant tree.
But one fine day, this little girl picked me.

My owner handled me with great care.
I was, after all, her beloved teddy bear.
I seemed to be her biggest comfort,
When she couldn't sleep or she felt troubled.

Years passed by and so did my time.
The little girl didn't need her teddy when she cried.
As I lay with the other toys in the attic,
I realized that my short life was quite tragic.

"Mr. Cuddles! Your child's best friend!"
But who's going to care about me in the end?
I played my part. I stayed with you.
But in the end this is what it came to.

Mr. Cuddles, the lonely one.
Who lies in the attic with his fur undone.
The cotton keeps falling out of his limb,
The once happy bear now lays grim.

                                                    -Waywa­rd❤
I attempted personification for the first time. I kind of relate to this poem though. I feel like Mr. Cuddles. And that somehow is my greatest fear. I fear being unloved and forgotten. I hope I got the message delivered in the poem.
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