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devante moore May 2018
I’ve never received a flower
Or even a rose
But I’m a guy
So it’s acceptable I suppose
No kisses
Or sweets
No treats
That signifies ones feelings for me
No token of ones love
But I have gotten
Disappointment
Watered with hate
Planted in betrayal
Fertilized with lies
And maintained by fakes
Roses are Red
But my roses are dead
And crumble beneath my feet
Danielle Baxter Jun 2013
A cry let out
Into the new world
Disappointment fills the air
A baby girl, not a boy
TR Takoda May 2013
I am a disappointment to my mother.
I don’t call when I’ll be coming home late. My room is wreck. I’m not in school, and I work two dead end jobs at places that don’t matter one iota to anyone in my family.
I curse. I smoke. I drink.
I’m a foul mouthed little child that can’t lose weight and sleeps around and never does what she’s told.
I’m a disappointment to my mother,
Despite the years of good behaviour. The good grades, the chaste life, the driven nature that took me half way around the world just to see if I could do it.
I stand in front of her today, still 6 inches shorter. Still rounder, still brunette. Still foul mouthed and still rebellious.
I still hug her tightly as if she’s all I’ve ever had. As if she is the only stability I’ve ever known. As if all those boyfriends who claimed they’d never leave either of us, as if all of those friends she had that I grew to love, and the pets we abandoned, and the apartments we called home, as if all of those things never mattered, or shaped me to be the distrustful little being I am today.
I still look at her like she’s all I have left. I never talk to her about stuff like that because I know it will only make her mad. Her hormonal short temper and her distrust of my judgement. I know I’m young, Mom, that’s why you should let me make my mistakes now, instead of in ten years when I’m married with children and never got to taste what being wrong in every way felt like.
I’m a disappointment to my mother. I want to have bad times. And hard times. I want to be knocked on my *** by life and barely able to get back up. She doesn’t get it.
She never will. I love her. With all that I am I will always love her but that trust that was once only reserved the only person who never left me, never deserted me and never gave up on me, that trust needs to be placed in me.
I am a disappointment to my mother because I grew up, and now I need to be a disappointment to me.
Sweet as Salt May 2011
I dont believe i can do it
i never did
i never wanted it to be like this
i hate the way this feels
i see the disappointment in their faces
i let them all down again
i always do
i always knew i couldnt do it
i dont even know why i tried
i wish today would be my last
i wish tonight id die
Evelyn Genao Mar 2018
Don’t talk to me in that tone!
Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.

Why can’t you be more like your brother? He’s younger than you!
Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.

You need to lose weight! You’re too fat!
Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.

I am the mother! You are the daughter! I own you!
Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.

You are such a disappointment.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry mother.
I’m not the daughter you expect of me.
I will be
better.

Why am I never good enough for you?
You comment on my flaws, constantly, diminishing my already low self-esteem.
You compare me to others, saying how I should be more “like them.”
Will you love me if I’m compliant with your every wish?
I’m sorry I’m not your perfect daughter.
Stop reminding me that you love my brother more than me.

I’m sorry.
For being who I am.
For being different.
For bringing you pain.
For not being enough.

Please. Stop. Don't.
Your words. Won't leave.
My head. Hurts.
I don't want to listen.
Make it stop.
I can't take it anymore.
SHUT UP!

I’m sick of listening.
I’m sick of you.
I hate myself.
I hate you.

I know.
I should be more like him.
I know.
I am not perfect.
I know.
I do not have your love.
I know.
You hate me.
I KNOW.
I’m a disappointment.
this is a rant that I needed to get out the only way I know how, through poetry. Most Of it is true while some is made up to make the poem better. Like, love, repost, comment.
Beaux Dec 2017
Disappointment

I see it in my mother’s eyes
I hear it in her voice
I feel it in the air
The tension is painful
It’s sharp like needles against my skin

Her words hit me like broken glass
“Can’t” “Don’t” “Wouldn’t”

“Why”
     It stings
“Why”
     It seeps into my skin
“Why”
     It creeps through my veins

How does a mother’s disappointment explain why?

Why?
     My brain was asleep
Why?
     I was on autopilot
Why?
     My head was full of fog
Why?
     I wasn’t in control

Disappointment.

I am everyone’s greatest.
Written: 12-12-17
I'm just having a rough time
jack of spades Apr 2017
You’re a Monday child, born on the first day of the week--
the weakest link--
You’re like the moon.
You’ve got nothing to give--
the sharp darkness of your crescent is someone else’s shadow,
and your light is nothing but the reflection of something bigger
and brighter than you.
You’re a disappointment child,
potential building like the Tower of Babel,
everyone telling you that if you had just tried hard enough,
then you could have touched God.
But you’re just a Monday child,
an extrovert who runs up the electricity bill by leaving on
all the lights when you’re home alone,
how even with your earbuds in you leave the TV on.
Pretending to be near people who are alive makes you feel a little less like you
already died a long time ago.
Darkness doesn’t take days off and
neither do your thoughts, so
wrap yourself in stars.
You want to find light in the constellations but
it’s hard to trace lines between dots behind fog.
Mondays are longer on Mars.
You were born with stress in your veins, heaping projects with no real due date,
in a constant state of waiting for Friday,
but weekends are for the weary,
and the taut line of your spine implies that you
don’t deserve a break.
The thing about Mondays is that they’re crushing,
filled with longing,
the way that you only feel homesick when you look up at the moon and her fraud light.
You wrap yourself in nebulae and galaxies to try to
keep the homesickness at bay while you sleep.
Nothing will ever be good enough.
You will never be good enough.
You are a Monday child, a bitter aftertaste of someone else’s loss,
like you’ve smiled too brightly at a stranger leaving a funeral home.
You dug your own grave a long time ago.
Your eyes are clouded with looking too far forward, stretching yourself backwards,
hanging onto the aftertaste of the weekend while living for the next.
You hang like laundry,
brittle in cold wind,
the step between that no one likes to linger on.
You were born on a Monday.
But your eighteenth birthday fell on a Wednesday,
your sixteenth on a Sunday,
and you are more than a desperate reach for empty space.
The Tower of Babel did not touch God.
You are not here for someone else to tell you to touch God.
You are not here for someone else.
You may be a disappointment child,
with your Monday fog eyes and shaking hands,
but sometimes you have to choose your own joy over someone else’s expectations--
because I was born on a Monday,
and poetry comes easier than physics but nothing
calms me down quite like solving differential equations.
I was born on a Monday,
and I’m used to looking at other people’s faces and seeing disappointment
because I don’t think I'm quite what any of us wanted me to be.
I cling to the past the way that Monday clings to Sunday,
but daydream about the future like it’s Saturday.
The problem is Tuesday through Friday, because
nothing quite makes me want to die like the concept of
planning out the rest of my life.
I think I’ll be alright, though,
because on Monday nights I look at the stars and think that
I might be figuring out how to feel alive,
like maybe home is in the constellations that I still don’t quite know.
Maybe home is in the Mondays,
or maybe it’s in the weary camaraderie of humanity’s ability to cling to weekdays.
Most days, I have to remind myself that this is just the beginning,
simultaneously relieving and daunting,
because I’m scared of the future and I’m scared of being disappointing.
I’m a Monday child, born under a full moon that feels like home
whether I’m looking at it from Jamaica or Germany or Kansas City.
Chaos comes with the start of the week,
and losing myself has always felt comforting:
that’s the only time when I have no one else to be.
Dayton Nov 2014
Alone and cold.
I do it myself.
Others try and get close,
They just wanna help.
But this emptiness inside my chest is breaking me down,
Tightening my throat,
Making me drown.
I'm sorry for the depression;
I'm just so cold.

Another night in my car thinking.
It's freezing outside,
My body keeps shaking.
On the verge of tears,
I'm doing my best to keep quite.
Only thought on my mind is them.
"Please keep having fun,
smile, laugh,
The night is young.
I'm out here so I won't bring you down,
I'm trying my best to not make
A sound"
Well, ****** up again
Megan McCormick Nov 2013
You were supposed to be the one.
The one little girls dream of,
My ******* Prince Charming.
I wasn't scared
So my guard was down and
I let you in
Even though I shouldn't have.
Lucky me, you turned out to be
One more disappointment.
Hailey P Feb 2014
Every time I check I phone
I expect to see a text from you
And every time there isn't a message
I set my phone down in disappointment
And accept that I am not worthy of your time
Shari Forman Mar 2013
A sound better and livelier as ever startled me. Baffled and unaware of my surroundings, my eyes slowly opened, viewing my irresistible grandmother’s hand gently touching my cheek. Listening carefully, I noticed a beautiful sound coming from her voice. The warm-hearted, lovable lady warmly smiled down at me as my smile formed into the shape of a crescendo, getting larger and wider, finally to a laugh of pure joy. I knew one thing was certain to be true; I fell in love with the intriguing sounds bit by bit.
I awoke to the sight of my father playing his guitar at a medium volume. The sound of the instrument inspired me and motivated me to follow him. I lie in my crib listening intently to the various sounds coming from the guitar. It was almost morning, yet I thought it was later in the morning because my light was on its maximum strength. I watched his fingers move very quickly on the guitar, yet the sounds were beautiful.
“Good morning my love,” said my father smiling at me. “Did you have a good sleep, my love?” he said.
“Pno,” I said on my very own.
“What did you say my love?” said my father startled and impressed that I had just muttered my first word at age one. His smile was soothing in my opinion. His eyes became lively and big with complete shock and joy.
“Po neo.”
“Piano!” said my father ecstatic at the moment.
Considering music was his dream, he wanted me to take part in the wonderful career as well. He set his guitar down against my light blue-colored wall. Then my father went to my small rocking chair and sat down. He put his face in the palm of his hands. I thought he was crying and intimidated by me, but then I realized he was very proud of me and believed I would go far in life. He stood up and picked me up gently and set me down on a chair next to my piano. He smiled and embraced me with affection. I knew my father’s name by heart but I couldn’t manage to say it. It was William. He started playing simple notes on the keys with his thick, masculine hands. He played six notes, all with important meaning and full-care. He motioned for me to take part playing as well.
“No, no. You’ve done it all wrong my love. You must listen with ease and act how you feel,” said my father with concern.
I started weeping large sobs as my father talks in a loud tone with disapproval.
“What, my dear?” says William concerned.
I pressed a key on the piano and roar with laughter.
“You’ve got it my love,” said my father in a soft, mellow tone.
I then take again to the keyboard, this time with full confidence playing again. My father then sang a song while playing the piano. I didn’t know the name of the song, but he told me it was a song he had written after. That inspired me to write my own songs and play the piano and possibly the guitar.
“This is the world, I hail from.  The sorrows and pity we might feel for each other. But arised a God who’s mighty strong. Who turns our sorrows into pride and joy, and this is where I am hail from,” sang my father very emotional.
“You’ll go far my love, I promise you. One day music will save you...” said my father.
…28 years later those words stuck with me…
I was off to work going about my usual day. I was thirty one now and living with my girlfriend in our apartment. I still lived in my hometown, California. Whenever I thought of my hometown, the song “Hometown California,” came to me automatically. I’d just start singing. I wouldn’t consider myself an excellent singer, but that was just a hobby of mine. I was phenomenal at playing the piano and very good at playing the guitar in the eyes of many people.
…When the weekend finally came, I found the time on Saturday morning to fit a tennis match in with one of my good friends, Troy.  As we rally back and forth, something caught me by surprise. A grey-haired man about twice my age had an awkward looking smile that lit up his whole face. I was baffled at the bizarre stranger. He came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder.  I looked at him.
“Hello young fellow. My name is Harry Hayfold and I was wondering if you would like to train with me to become a professional tennis player.” said the man.
‘No thanks man, I’m just playing a match with my friend. Thanks anyways.” I said and I went back to rallying.
“Young fellow, please. You’ve great skill as I see,” said the older guy eager to say something more.
“I don’t think I want to train for hours for a chance at becoming a pro- tennis player. Thanks for the compliment though,” I said a little annoyed.
“It would be your loss sir.” said the man.
I just continued rallying with my friend. My friend looked baffled as well and felt bad for the guy. I didn’t care if he was still standing there; I just wanted to play. When we were finished rallying, we started a match. As I throw the ball up to serve, he shouts something right next to me.
“Would you please just listen to what I have to say?!” said the man angry.
“Oh, my god; could you leave us alone now?  I’m not doing the training classes; I have a job. I work in a music store, okay!” I said very annoyed.
My friend came over to my side of the tennis court and asked what the problem was to the man.
“I can’t stand people like you. You’re a liar and a creep.” said John.
“Which music store do you work at?” asked the man.
“It’s called Music Academy. Can you leave us alone now?” I said perturbed.
“I’m very sorry to have bothered you.” said the man.
“Yeah,” I said without any enthusiasm.
“No wait, he’ll be honored to do the classes with you sir. He needs money anyway,” said John’s friend Troy.
“What are you doing?!” I said to my friend with fury. “I will be fine financially once I get signed professionally which will happen troy. It will definitely happen. This guy… He’s out of his mind,” I said confident.
“What did you say your name was?” said the man.
“John.” I said.
“Excellent Johnathon.”“Meet me here on these same tennis courts tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. Don’t be late.” said Harry.
I smashed my racket as hard as I could on the ground with full force, releasing all of my stress and anger out on the court.
“Alright John,” said Troy with pity on him. We’ll hang out again soon.” He said and left.
“Crapola!”  I yelled in mid-air after everyone left.
The next day I don’t even consider going to the psychotic man’s tennis class. Instead, I make my way to work early.
As I’m exiting my shift at night, I noticed someone standing behind a wall. And there it was… I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Oh, no,” I whispered to myself.
“Hello Jonathon. You’re session was at eight am this morning. Have you forgotten?” he said concerned.
“Listen, I don’t think this whole business with the excessive training classes to make me into what I will never become and putting my job in jeopardy of getting fired, is going to work out,” I said with a smile.
“I’ve watched you work in the store John,” said the man concerned.
“Oh jeez, now I’ve got a personal stalker. This is gonna be interesting.” I whispered.
“How much do you make a week? I’ve come to sought you don’t look happy working there and want to become into a real musician.” said Harry.
I was just about to completely lose my mind when I took a deep breath and bit my tongue to avoid making a scene. My face turned so red.
“Once I get a record deal with the piano, then things will be even better for me. But as of now, I’m very happy, just not super happy. And you know what else, I’m so happy I began music because I couldn’t get much happier. Oh, the glory of being a musician would make me so happy. And you barging randomly into my life and ******* up everything… well I couldn’t get much happier!” I managed to scream at the end of my statement.
“Come with me John. Please let me help you find a way to forget that you’re not a musician.” said the man.
“My father was my inspiration. He’s dead now, yet I’m following in his footsteps because I want to.” I said.
“I see… I’m very sorry for your loss John,” said Harry with a fake sad expression on his face.
This man was driving me up the wall by now. I had had it with his monkey business.
There was a long pause…
“So tomorrow at eight?” I said completely unsatisfied, yet willing to experiment with what he had in mind to teach me.
“Yes, oh yes that would be just perfect John,” said Harry ecstatic.
We both started walking to our homes. He had walked rather quickly for an older guy, and me, slowly like I’d just had a pancreas failure.
When I arrived at my apartment, my girlfriend wasn’t there.
“Jenny, I’m home”… “Jenny, you there?” I said baffled at the silence. “Jennyyyyy”, I said playfully. Jennifer… Is dinner set toniiiight?” I said as I smiled at my own humor.
All of a sudden, the phone rang, which startled me and made me uninterested at this point to answer. I answered the phone anyway.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hello, this is a patient of Jennifer; is Jenny there?”
“No she isn’t at the moment,” I said unsure of my answer.
“Ok, thank you,” she said and hung up.
“You’re welcome,” I said sarcastically after she already hung up.
I walked into our bedroom to take my work clothes off and put pajamas on. The door was closed which got me a little concerned and angry. I walked in the bedroom and turned on the light.
“What the hell is going on here?! Get off my girlfriend you crazy *******!” I yelled.
“No John, please stop. He’s my fiancé John,” said Jenny annoyed with me.
“What are you talking about Jennifer?” I said raging with anger.
“Listen john, I’m sorry. Things weren’t working out between us recently and things just clicked between… well Steve and I.” she said.
“ I can’t believe what I am seeing right now,” said john through tears of disappointment and anger.
“Things weren’t working out between us John_”
“Yeah, I think you mentioned that already.” said John crying hysterically.
“Well don’t be sorry. Be sorry at yourself because I did nothing but treat you nicely. What happened to us Jenny? We were so in love with each other. I can’t believe what I am seeing.” I said.
My girlfriend my starting to cry now and as she began to speak I walked out stomping on the floor and slammed the front door as I exited my apartment.
“The next morning John arrived at the tennis courts that he visited two days ago with his friend.
“I’m here; let’s start playing tennis,” I said calmly.
“Wait, wait. I have not yet explained the concepts.” said Harry.
“Yeah, yeah, concepts. I know,” I said annoyed.
I picked up a tennis ball and hit it over the fence as hard as I could.
“Excellent work there John,” said Harry sarcastically.
“That was just a warm up professor. Now here comes glory,” I said about to ****** someone.
I slam my pre-broken racket on the floor so hard that it cracked in half. The man was outraged at the horrifying scene.
“I missed work this morning for this crapola?!” I yelled.
John, you’re crazy right now. Sit down and relax!” said Harry firmly.
“Music is all I want and you’re taking that away from me.” I said
“I apologize sir; I don’t think I want to do this anymore.” I said.
“Anymore? You haven’t even started playing yet,” said Harry with a little chuckle.
“Ok, fine; I’ll play.” I said. “I don’t have a racket now.” I said ashamed and guilty.
“That’s not my problem.” said Harry. “If you no longer have a racket, I will let you have my spare racket if you practice drills catching the ball precisely with only your hands.”
“Ha, you’re kidding right? That was a good one Harry; very good.” I said.
I tap him on the shoulder.
“See you tomorrow.” I said.
“Will you stop acting arrogant and negative for once John! I was serious about the hand drill.” said Harry.
“Ok then.” I said.
Harry got on the side opposite from my side. He took a bunch of ***** and out them in his pockets.
“Now John…I want you to catch the ball wherever I throw it okay?” said Harry.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” I said.
He fed the ball over the net and John caught the ball wherever he threw it. When he was getting exhausted from the number of ***** being fed to him, he took the ball and smashed it on the ground.
“What in heaven’s name has come over you?” asked the man terrified.
“Nothing, except the fact that my girlfriend is now getting married with her new fiancé and was having an affair in my bedroom. That is it ladies and gentleman, the show is now over,” I said sarcastically.
“Oh, haha…hahahahahahaahahaa.” Harry chuckled.
Harry burst out laughing.
“John, John, I’m sorry. The way you said it made me laugh, that’s all.” said Harry.
I run up to the old man about ready to **** him (not literally) when he started coughing. He fell down to his knees holding his chest.
“John,” he whispered trying to grasp more oxygen.
“What happened Harry? Are you alright?” I asked nervously panicking.
I ran off the court to get my cell phone in my tennis bag on one of the park benches and called an ambulance. I then run back to Harry.
“I’m calling an ambulance for you Harry. It’ll be okay,” I said about to cry from the sight of what just happened.
When the ambulance came, he was put on a stretcher by several paramedics and taken to the nearest hospital. I don’t bother calling my ex-girlfriend, knowing I was through with her insecure ways and immaturity level. I drove to the hospital following the ambulance as I drove. I arrived at the hospital minutes after him and sat in the waiting room for over two hours with his son who was about my age, if not older. The doctor came out looking down with tears in his eyes. He ripped off his glasses and fell to his knees. He stood up…
“I’m very sorry. There was nothing more I could precede on doing,” said the doctor.
The doctor walked away looking very upset and disappointed in himself and what happened. I turned to his son and saw such shock and disappointment in him.
“He was a very mysterious, outgoing person and a great father,” said his son through tears.
I nodded my head and smiled.
“My father tried to teach you basic steps of becoming a tennis player, but it wasn’t for a career. Trust me. He wanted you to learn something new. That’s all. He can be difficult at times, I know, but he is a very courageous man and loves helping others,” said his son smiling at me.
I was shocked. I was living an okay life with music. But now I realized that this man inspired me to follow chase after what you want. He taught me that things may be challenging in life, but you can overcome them if you work hard and love what you do in life. Even through financial problems, I realized that you can still achieve your dreams and it is never too late to start a record deal. His son left the hospital before me without mentioning what his name was. I believed the Harry and his family were a mystery, but a good mystery. I showed up to the music store the next morning and the manager of the store had exhilarating news for me. I had gotten signed by a famous musician! This was the best day of my whole entire life and I could not have asked for anything more in life.
“Signed by Buddy Clark, I present to you your record deal. Sign this and you have a chance to work with this talented man for a chance at achieving your dream John. Well done, we’re all very proud of you,” said the manager of the store.
All of the workers in the store started cheering me on and applauding my superb work and efforts. I was now in tears of pure joy and I felt worth something major for the first time.
“Thanks a lot Jason,” I said to the manager of the store. “This is a gift; it means the world to me,” I said as I gave him a hug.
I realized life is not all about tennis or music. It’s the important things in music that make you feel out of this world amazed. People may have a strong opinion about something they love, but never take a person for granitite.
Christian Ek Jun 2014
Disappointment is thrown strongly at my direction.
Blame gathers in large quantities like a pest infestation.
"It's your fault" and words like "You always make mistakes" evoke anger.
Anger which I want to take out on myself and take out on others.
I can excel in my work of choice, I know I'm more than average.
The bad gets pointed out more and little praise is given for the good.
Stunned by unmoving words. I'm like a prisoner sentenced to jail, released and expected to do worse.
Destruction emerges from my enraged emotions, i wish your words could offer a solution.
I want to be an alchemist and turn things into gold.
It's ironic how I am a creator of words but cant create better words in my critics.
Conversations lead to arguments because i want to be heard.
I'm sick of revolving doors, sick of being slammed by your atrocious comments.
"You have no common sense" you say to me, maybe I just prefer to be in a daydream, my mind drifting away because life is too dull.
Realize that what you say has an effect and that effect can drive somebody or stop them in motion.
Jack Mandala May 2015
Disappointment runs across my face
As your life has gone south and left a bitter trace
The future looked immensely bright for you
A golden crown carved with your name looked true
But enticing decisions inspired by the devil
Pressured you to get on his level
Based on recent experiences with a close friend
Cat Fiske Jun 2015
I don't mind if you touch them,
but maybe she did,

I don't care anymore,
to me there just a pair of flesh,

but to her,
they're still innocent,

Mine have lost the specialness in the I want you to touch them,
Now it's met with I don't cares,

For I no longer have what she has,
those first time butterflies like i'm shy when I remove my top,

when it's the first time I show them off to you,
because they're not special anymore,

when a time in my life my brest made me happy,
were I could look in the mirror and feel good about something,

but they became nothing,
so now I look and see nothing but a black canvas of disappointment,

everytime I stare at my reflection,
every time I see my wound,

our wound,
because that's the one that everyone sees,

the rest I made are hidden just for me,
and I wish our wound was like that,

I wish I could totally remember what happened to my breast,
but all I remember was burning right over the year old scar again,

because the pain of remember hurt more then my second burn,
but the first time you were the one to burn me,

and I had hid it so well,
but there came a time where I didn't care,

and I showed it off,
battle scar? call it what you want,

if you wanna grab my **** go for it,
they have gone through worse assault,

if you wanna see them,
it's not going to mean **** to me,

and I am really sorry that thats hows it's been for me,
but it's not my fault my ***** innocence was stolen from me,

because of a *****,
with what used to look like the end of one of his cigarettes,
a **** poem, go figure......
Blake Mar 2019
I know that I'm a disappointment.

I've only been told that half a million times.

It's a running joke within the family now.

I know that I get angry at you.

I know I fight with you.

I know I make things hard.

And as much as you don't think so,

I'm trying really hard.

I'm trying to be better.

I'm trying to better myself.

Get my grades up.

And fix myself for you.

But to you,

I'll always be a dissapointment.
Sue Violetta Oct 2014
Crushing disappointment
A dark shadow
Smothering my world
Clouding my mind
Why ? Why ?

There are no roses
Only thorns
No fire, only the smoke
I'm blind to your kind comfort
Why ?
I cry
hiding behind a smile.

But you are wrong!
There is a fire
Behind the smoke.
It's in my heart!
The thorns come with roses
A beautiful sight.
The tears of my disappointment
Just made up my mind
I will try harder
again and again !
I CAN !
Bad luck in a competition.
22.11.14   ...I  did it !    I won !!
Ann Beaver Feb 2013
She knew
It would be good
as she stood
under a sky more colorful than blue.
As she stood
on a threshold of something
that smelled like the silk and satin
he had slept on just the night before,
She hoped for more
than red lights flashing,
than hearts surrounded by fences.
But, she only heard the mashing
of sweetened heartstrings not fully cooked.
If only she had looked
for something more than a cookbook.
Do you remember what you said that day
How terrible you felt inside
When all those clouds of disappointment
Blew into your lovely skies

Your life could not get any worse
To yourself you sadly said
Because your glorious sun no longer shone
While lightning crashed ahead

Your teardrops fell like rain that day
Unnoticed in the downpour
Torrential streams from the blackest skies
One had ever seen before

One day your sun returned to shine again
Winds of disappointment changed
Your flowing tears glowed into a radiant smile
As your life’s direction rearranged

Now here you stand, downcast once again
Black cloudy skies moving in
Never give up looking for that sun of yours
To shine through those clouds again
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
Daniel Mashburn Feb 2015
I write in fragments,
Becoming more stagnant
'Til I write nothing at all.

And so I falter:
Stammer, stutter, stumble.
Mumble. As my words crumble.

These notebooks I've filled?
Toss them. Tear pages out.
Destroy it; fury unbound.

Let's dissect the hate.
I'd hate to disappoint.
Disappointment? I digress.
MRR Feb 2013
I remember when
We fought those
Angry Puerto Ricans
With their shiny knives
And one of them got you
In your thigh, John.

I held your head in my
Lap as the blood from my
Nose trickled down your
Neck and chest and we
Were pretty drunk and
Very high on who knows
What and you asked if
You were going to die.
I said, "No, John. It's
Just in your thigh."

I remember that look;
Disappointment.
A furrowed brow and
You threw a gaze
To the wood-line in the east.
We all knew that feel.
The disappointment when
Death evaded us.
Cunning fellow.
Sunshine Nov 2014
Decision after decision
is death after death
is another look of disappointment
from the adults who knew me as an intelligent kid

We're working backwards in timeless cities
where "getting over it" are my good mornings
and tearful hands around my throat are my good nights

Suitcases filled with souvenirs just to visit my own home
but nothing feels like home anymore
maybe your arms are the welcome mat
and maybe its the highway

no one knows
but everyone knows my mistakes
and there's no going back now
this is who I am.
A Disappointment
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2017
There are times when the Lord will take from us every familiar thing and send all the others away to have us to Himself, uprooting and dismantling our earthly anchors until we find no safe place of attachment but to Him alone. And though we search feverishly to secure another, He will faithfully cut off our efforts at every pass and every attempted by-pass, almost as though we could see them being escorted out the door, marching one after the other in file and possibly taking our sanity with them. “No, not another one! Where are they all going and why am I not invited?” But it is His alone to give or not to give, to give and take away.

The One Who took up the cross and took the cup of the Father’s wrath for us has the absolute right to take anything and everything from us at any time for whatever reasons might please Him. But know this for certain: concerning His redeemed, those reasons will always involve two things—glory and intimacy. They are the overriding answers to every lingering question of “Why?”.

But if we fail to understand His glorious and intimate intentions we may misconstrue our losses to be a sign that He is actually withdrawing His affection from us. The very things which He is doing for love’s sake to perfect our pathway to intimacy might be taken instead for obstacles blocking it, causing us to doubt His love. We could not be more wrong, but sometimes it's so hard to see through the veil of pain.

For it's a strange and bewildering thing to feel that you belong to no place and no person in this world, to have nowhere to call home and no one to share it with if you did. A severe untethering indeed that though meant to prepare us for flying can seem to us more like drowning. The sobering truth is that none of us belong to this life or the things of this earth; all sense of it is only an illusion, and pain and loss are simply the dispelling of the myth—the rude awakening from a bewitching dream we once had. But oh how we fight the disillusionment.

Maybe we remember a time when we had prayed to be refined, to be made more like Jesus, but we didn’t know it would have to hurt so bad and take so long and look so dark and feel so lonely. Even if we have understood and embraced His call to deeper intimacy we may after a while, when nothing seems improved either around us or in us, start to resent our belonging to such a determined and jealous Lover, though He is doing exactly what we had once asked Him to. We may start to think we can no longer bear anything except that which superficially distracts us from our grief. We may even start to give up hope, for if not anchored exclusively “behind the curtain” and if repeatedly crushed it threatens to **** our hearts for good should we have to face one more disappointment.

We may feel very much like we are flailing around in a deep and darkening ocean, repeatedly pulled under by the powerful tow and thrashing waves of overwhelming emotion and continuously knocked back by the brutal winds of confusion. Yet we can still see the unshakable boat of faith and truth standing solidly only a small distance away. We know it is real and that if we could just reach it we would be safe. We hear someone shouting through the din, “Just hold onto the boat! The boat will save you. Look beyond your feelings and walk by faith. Hold onto truth!” But can’t they see that as hard as we may try we have no strength to swim to the boat? Can’t they see that we are sinking?

And so we are left with nothing but to cry out to Jesus, to cry out to Him to bring the boat to us, to come Himself and rescue us. Do we have that much faith? Enough to just say, “Jesus, help me! I’m drowning!”? Enough to see that He is our only hope and nothing else matters apart from Him?

Because when we do, we will understand that this hope in Him alone is the very lifeline by which He will pull us to safety—back to faith, back to truth, back into His intimate arms of love, back into a peace which passes all understanding and into a joy that gives us strength for the journey.

As difficult as it can be in our grief to hear the Lord whispering truth to our hearts above the constant clanging of our feelings, we must now more than ever choose to take the time to be still and seek our soul’s rest in Him and in His promises. But how amidst such clamor and confusion?

Simply decide to cast your cares on Him, if only for the moment, by climbing into His Shepherd’s lap to look and loiter and listen. And if you have no energy to climb up, then just lift your arms and ask Him to pick you up. And if you haven’t the strength even for that, only raise your eyes toward Him and you will soon find your sanity restored as you behold His love for you. Ask Him earnestly to let you see it afresh, for perhaps you have been temporarily blinded from recognizing it.

Stop everything; cease just for this minute from all worry, anxiety, fear and anger. Forget the past and do not look toward the future. Focus only on this moment right now, as if you knew it would be your last, as if it were the very one to lead you into eternity. Inhale like fresh air the powerful promises of God’s Word. Soak in their grace and drink in their healing, keeping your eyes fixed on Jesus’ face. Can you see Him longing for you? Exhale every distraction, conflict and uncertainty of this world. Then listen... What is He saying to you right now? Wait for it, then let your soul rest in it, and let go of everything else. Rest in the grace of this present moment and in His strong, sure arms. Let Him take care of you, wounded one, for you are His beloved, and He longs to tend your broken and needy heart.
~~~

"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
    my hope comes from Him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation;
    He is my fortress, I will not be shaken."
~ Psalm 62:5-6

"The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
    my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,
    my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I called to the LORD, who is worthy of praise,
    and I have been saved from my enemies.
The cords of death entangled me;
    the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me.
The cords of the grave coiled around me;
    the snares of death confronted me.
In my distress I called to the LORD;
    I cried to my God for help.
From His temple He heard my voice;
    my cry came before Him, into His ears...
He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
    He drew me out of deep waters.
He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
    from my foes, who were too strong for me.
They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
    but the LORD was my support.
He brought me out into a spacious place;
    He rescued me because He delighted in me."
~ Psalm 18:2-6,16-19

"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf..."
~ Hebrews 6:19-20a
Calli Kirra Jan 2014
Get away from your friends and over to me
Zacgabranth Aug 2014
You will go to sleep early to talk to your pillow.-Isaac Brock
The thoughts in my head were spinning around. It's all in doubt, it's all in doubt. - The Pacific Ocean

"Tell me why the stars are so bright?"
"They are made of gas which is constantly burning and the twinkling light is the result of that."
"You are simple"
"so what, I didn't listen to my teachers very well. you were the one who asked a simple question anyway"
"But was it?"
"I'm pretty sure it was, and how come you don't know?"
"I wanted to hear you tell me. Are you done with your video games now? I want to go outside"
"The game is almost over. Where would you like to go?"
"You always say it's almost over and yet it keeps going on and on. I don't know where to go, we should just go do something outside.
"Like what? I haven't been outside lately and there isn't much to do when you don't have money"
"It's not like we need to pay to go outside. You seem so reluctant to leave the house, who are you again?"
"How come you don't remember? My name is Bashful. What happened to you Jealousy?"
"I'm not entirely sure, something must have hit me on the head. We have to go now Bashful!"
"Why? It's not like there is anything that interesting outside."
"You have to come Bashful or I won't know how to act."
"Remember going outside always ends with disappointment."
"It won't be like that this time Bashful. We will find something fulfilling this time I swear."
"No Jealousy I don't want to go back outside. Id rather stay here in front of my screen."
"You know I'm not surprised much, after that last experience I can tell you don't want to show your face again."
"haha whatever Jealousy, just leave me alone."
"You are going to live with that disappointment forever Bashful if you don't let it go. I'm going to see if Envy wants to go and tell me when you change your mind. ok?"
"Will do."

"Wake, wake up you."
"What, whats happening?"
"Nothing at all you see that's why you gotta get up."
"But jealousy I was just so comfortable laying here, and the dreams were just about to start."
"You need to stop sleeping so much Envy, you will end up holed up in your room like Fear."
"Hmm, whatever you say. So what exactly did you want from me?"
"I wanted to see if you wanted to go outside. So do ya?"
"You don't seem yourself today Jealousy, why exactly do you want to go outside?"
"I feel so restrained in this place, and I'm not sure what there really is to do here anymore."
"You could just relax ya know like Content. He's been sitting there all day reading books and he seems fine."
"Yes he seems fine ,but he rarely even talks anymore. That last incident was just to much for him. Its as if he isn't even present anymore."
"You think too much, but ya Ill go outside with ya it's not like I have anything better to do. Have you asked Bashful?"
"I did but he's still upset about the other."
"I see. He sure is getting sensitive these days."

Jealousy and Envy then leave the house

"This isn't like you Jealousy. You have never been up to leave without Bashful with you. What's up?"
"I'm not sure..."
"Well you should try to sort things out before leaving next time because you don't look well now."
"It's the heat I feel faded and stretched."

The two walk down to the road

"What is there really to do outside these days? All I see is passing cars and others in the distance."
"Umm well I know Stress and Confidence usually go to the nearby station.."
"That's where they work Jealousy don't you remember. You've had to go with them once or twice now."
"Maybe, but the thing is I have no recollection of it."
"Something must of happened to you too during that last time out. You can recall that something occurred, but do you remember what exactly happened?"
"An other created a disturbance... I can sense it in Bashful and the rest of us..."
"Yes that's true but you have no idea of how it happened."
"I don't ya.."
"I guess Ill have to tell ya then, but lets get out of this heat first."

Jealousy and Envy walk over to a grass covered area with trees. Then Envy and Jealousy light up a cigg and resume their conversation.

"The day before, Stress,Bashful, and Coward had just returned from work and they wanted to head into another town to drink with friends. The rest of us agreed and we were able to get a ride. We arrived and thus collided into physical form."

Envy then shares the memory with Jealousy
"Who's ____"
"He's an artist she knows."
"Ohh ya, she told me about him last time I was hanging out with her. They seem to be getting along really well."
"Are you okay there___?"
"Ya I'm fine. I'm in the process of letting go. Are you ready to see if shes there? I want to get drunk."
"Let's go."

"Hey _____"
"How ya doing?"
"Fine. I brought my friend over too. Did you still want to hang out?"

The Memory Dissipates

"So where are you now friend?"
"I'm in a different place than before"
"Where is that? I've never seen you so distant"
"I think it's a place that doesn't truly exist. An imaginary space that confines it's only prisoner, me."
"That place doesn't sound very fun if its just you entrapped. Don't you have any visitors?"
"Once in awhile I let people inside, but then the space becomes distorted and chaotic with constant pressure to release myself"
"So you are the warden too?"
"In a sense I am but in another I'm not fully in control of that place."
"Who is?"
"I'm not entirely sure yet. I see a dark figure trailing me sometimes and I think it's the thing that brought me there. Though when I look back it disappears."
"Don't fade away ok?"
"I'm not gone yet. My mortality always brings me back, but someday I want to stay there."
"Why do you want to leave so badly?"
"I hate being here."
I thought it would be nice to start posting my writings here again. I don't necessarily like the direction of this piece, but it inspires me to write further so please comment away. I need it........
Chris May 2010
I am the void left by hope.
I am the frantic scrabble,
the gasp f­or a mirage.
I am the empty box,
the joke with no punchline.
I am the end of the road.
 
I am the face you thoug­ht you knew,
the parcel for someone else.
the missing last page.
­I am the second, 
after the second,
that you knew it was over.   ­

I am the coup leader 
shot at dawn
I am redundancy
bankruptcy, ­lonely
I am the king
with blood on my arms
From the nails
 
I am ­the logo on the trainers 
on the heels 
of the one in front 
I am­ the vibrating molecules
Of the sound
Of the door closing
I am th­e dawning realisation
That you are not
as good as you thought you­ were.

I am disappointment.

I am the sun reflected
The gleam of­ polished brass
I am the lace of frost on leaves
I am the newborn­ laugh
The vibrant flowerbed
I am the happy child 
chasing the ra­inbow
of a bubble on the breeze

I am more than the sum
of the ga­ps between dreams
I am the strength
In the arms
That hold you
I a­m the other side
where mysteries are plain

I am the miracle 
the­ rank outsider,
the last to be picked,
who scored the winner,
I a­m fresh hope.
I am unwavering joy.
I am the rock.
 
I am.

And I ­choose you.
Matalie Niller May 2012
Not sure why
I ever expect anything else
but I always manage to feel let down;
I know what I want
and I do nothing to get it except complain when I don't.
I know that I want to be happy
and what do I do?
I be sad, and afraid
and not very happy at all.
And why?
Because I have bugs in my brain that just love to make my life uncomfortable
and as unfullfilling as possible.
I want to be free and what do I do?
I become a slave to everyone and everything so that I am no longer me
but an image of passivity and repressed desires.
If I were free,
I would scream from the top of a building my opinions
and kiss that freaking stupid boy
and then do terribly explicit activities with him,
but none of that can happen
until I can accept myself and reject the possibility of disappointment.
Vilene Joubert Nov 2018
I finally broke down every wall for You

And you picked up every single stone
Just to throw it back at me.........
igc May 2015
I saw the best minds of my generation congested and
polluted overdosing on irrelevance

Abandoned abused replaced
Fed to the thought police
Corrected corrupted
Declining the potential to be heard in
exchange for the opportunity to be documented

Lives being lived according to unfeasible standards
You either make it or you don’t
there’s no in between
there’s no maybe
there’s no equal

Left to meander through the conceived thoughts of others
decisions being made
moves being made
eulogies being made

nothings real
nothing’s right
nothing’s honest
nothing thought up matters


Who in the safety of their homes were taught respect
are told to mask their emotions
Identities saved for the weak
Only to be showcased when conducive

Who pump iron into their veins
looking for an angry fix of acceptance
Sweat streams surge down their backs
Failure prominent in their thoughts
Motivation blessing their features
the Devil clever in disguise

Who see little white fields of fairy dust
a never ending landscape of courage
giving them superpowers beyond belief

Nothing beats the freedom of being told
You can fly

Who dream of equality behind closed eyes
But render to imposed birth rights when open
The upper hand implying more than height
and executing more force than necessary to move them

It’s all about the cause until you’re indubitably
the effect

Who tuck monsters into their beds
Forgetting to check closets for skeletons not quite left behind
in the path of carefully chaotic self destruction
Conveniently purging themselves of words whispered
in the throes of passion
Forced upon the ears of all naive enough to listen

Who carelessly expend countless hours playing with
condescending pawns disguised as adults
All grown up with no where to go
Replacing quality with quantity
Leaving long dull trails of breadcrumbs
leading to hearts long since lost
Never to be recovered again

Who follow sexuality by the book
doing this to get that for this him them who what when where
Why does the finish line have to be covered with brightly colored lace and muffled drunk cries chanting no

Who stare dead straight into the soul of love but never
Never into her eyes
Told she is not worthy of being addressed directly
Fingers itching to cop a feel
Only to discover the body is but a passage to her straight dead soul


Who trade in their voice mind and individuality
for half assed smiles and superficial men
As the face of a leviathan nicknamed acceptance
hands them a paycheck they’ve worked too
night day night night hard to refuse

Who idolize the feel of phantom limbs of lovers past
Twisted words convoluting their heads
Forcing on masks of pure heroine
at the sight of scars left on the soul
Scratching at the need to feel wanted
But cowering at the ability to truly be heard

Who have perfected the art of parallel painting
Elegant red streaks hidden beneath layers of
choppy dark colored hate covering pretty pale limbs
Seeming to fade as colorlessly caked on insecurities susurrate bitter-sweet nothings that curl themselves just inside her mutilated skin

Who scavenged their looks from the bottom of holes
they’re expected to clamber out of
Smiling pretty smiling
Being treated to complimentary meals
Only to be served plates full of disappointment.

Who crave companion’s flaws
in ruthless attempts to satisfy their hunger for compassion
Selfless beings dedicated to less than noble attempts at vanquish
The call for heat too satisfying to refuse the trade off forever uselessly launching themselves into razor sharp blades
aimed at ***** sleeves

Who see soft lips as cushion enough to fall from towers built of fear
Dragging moist palms across pavement thighs
Tearing at the seams holding their
hearts together

Who cower behind brick wall appearances
fruitlessly clutching on to ideas reserved for the most fortunate
Scaring away potential with claws that seemingly only come
out to play in the face of acceptance

Who’s sick stick thin limbs trail their worn down
fingernails in an effort mar skin no one can see
Streaks titillate their bright red scalps
A reflection of their underlying journey

Who disgorge yesterday's meal from stomachs long before empty
Blood spewing from the mouth an open wound
Continuously sewed up but never stitched tight correctly
Wiring shut opinions but never gorged enough to
muzzle their Howls



Ideas, calm and collected have long been hijacked and invaded by Hestia

Hestia! Consent! Content! Acceptance!
Long nights and roid rage men!
Two faces fighting a losing battle!
Girls playing mom! Boys playing war!
Ill ridden parents still pledging to the
United States of Controlling Media!

Hestia! Hestia!
Overall reign of Hestia!
Hestia the beautiful!
Incarcerated Hestia!
Hestia the ******!

Hestia twisted and shaped to form the voice of conformity
Hestia constantly watching over and monitoring
Hestia being told what to ******* think

Hestia seeping creeping sneaking into the
darkest crevices of our minds
Hestia when least expected coming out to say
Hello

Too late! Hestia’s already made herself at home
Wedged between the rooks of your biggest fear and
burrowed deep into the folds of
Your  Worst  Nightmare

Stuck in a constant battle between
rejecting Hestia,
and accepting her.
This was obviously inspired by Allen Ginsberg's "Howl."
Considering it was, at the time, the voice of that generation, Welcome to Generation Y.
This is a work in progress.
R Sep 2013
I know that when
You see the
Grade I made on
The test you spent your
Time helping me with
You'll be so
*Disappointed.
Arwen May 2013
How do I learn to truly forgive myself?
How do I stop blaming myself
for the mistakes I have made?
How do I find peace within
myself to move forward,
instead of always looking backwards?  
How do I turn this around,
before I totally lose myself again?

These questions haunt me
each and every day.
Just when I think I am making
even the smallest of steps forward,
there is something, or someone,
who pulls me back –
back down into the abyss
of pure sorrow and shame.  
Sorrow of love gone wrong, or lost;
shame for allowing it to
consume such a beautiful heart, and mind.

I know that I must learn to forgive myself
for all of my errors of judgment,
which is one of the hardest things
I have ever had to face.
Being one’s own worst enemy,
while facing the deepest of all criticisms,
is very hard to overcome,
especially, when you lose sight of
the light at the end of the tunnel.  
My faith deserts me when
I need it the most.  
I am solely living on the outside,
while slowly dying in the inside.  

I see, nor feel, any real purpose.  
Am I always meant to loom
in another’s shadow?  
Never to reap the benefits
of all that I have invested?
Never to be acknowledged
for having a good heart?
Never feeling like I will
ever be truly loved,
or cherished, for the
person that I am?  
What does it truly take
for someone to see
the worth in me?  

All these questions,
while not having the answers
makes it hard to believe
that you matter that much
to all those around you.  
Am I just going to always be
an afterthought,
instead of, a forethought?

What more can I do to
prove my own worthiness?
Will I perpetually be stuck
in uncertainties of my own
self-doubt?  
Will I ever truly find my
place in this world?

All these questions constantly
swirl in my mind, as I try
to figure out the answers.
The pressure of finding
these answers lies
heavily on my shoulders.
I am a strong woman, indeed,
but when I face one
challenge after another,
without truly healing,
I tend to find myself
questioning my own existence.

I do not want to be remembered
as a woman who was always in pain.
I want my self-description to be of
a woman, who despite her
many adversities,  found her
sense of being, as an example to others.
Life is exactly what we make of it.
If I continue to allow myself to
wallow in these fears,
then I have truly succumbed to
own my demise.

Even with the most clouded
of mind, I know I can not
allow this anymore.  
I know that my heart
cannot endure the pain
and disappointment that it bears.  
So, I must learn to recognize
that I am human, and that
I will make mistakes.  
How I learn from these mistakes
is what separates me from another -
it is what defines my uniqueness.  
Regardless of the loneliness
that surrounds me constantly,
I must remember that I am
needed, and wanted, by others.

The only way to do this
is to try to forgive myself,
while realizing,
that those who also recognize
my true beauty are the ones
that deserve to be part of my life.  
As the haze lifts more and more each day,
I do believe I will find my way again.
Just some more bumps along this
road that they call life.  

Vicki A. Zinn
May 27, 2013
This poem is about the last nine years of my life, and all of the questions I have had surrounding me in regards to the struggles I have endured.  Sometimes, even the strongest of people have some very rough times, where even they question their own place in this world.  I hope that this poem helps those who have felt, or still feel, the same way as I do.  Just know that you are not alone.  My best advice is to take one day at a time, while living in the present.  Do not look back on the past, but instead, learn from it, so it will lead you into a better future!!
Melanie Kate Oct 2009
Just a disappointment

I don't hate,
It’s just wasteful-
Breathing in
and never breathing out.

The space is empty
with crammed tug-of-wars
dragging my heart,
Heart dragging months.

I don't think
any less or worse-
Character undefined. Always repetitive.
Bored of the ****
pulling over old paintings;
Same as yesterday,same as before.

I don't cry
for actions cowardly
shunted inwards;
Explosion due released.
The shedding tears,
carving maps upon lips,
design attention
inward reaps deliverance.

I don't hurt
for lacking sensitivity-
desire for one embellished
with lapping present conviction.
The same minuscule point,
returned again and again-
Intentions to change;
Stairwell to nowhere.
(c) Mel D. Ltd. (10 Oct. 09) 2009
E Townsend Nov 2015
The disappointment that resides in me,
as much as I tell it to go away,
swallows my entire body.

It eats away at my flesh and rarely
leaves enough time for skin to regenerate.
The disappointment that resides in me

licks its lips hungrily
at the sight of my blood, salivates
and swallows my entire body.

This cannot be healthy,
I say to myself. There has to be a way to invalidate
the disappointment that resides in me.

I wonder if there was ever a phase of sobriety
when my expectations' weight
did not swallow my entire body.

I suppose I must return to reality
and succumb to incubate
the disappointment that resides in me,
that swallows my entire body.
Jaimee Michelle Jun 2013
Daddy, where'd you go?
I can't find you
Haven't we played hide n seek long enough?
I need my dad
I don't think these games are so much fun anymore

Daddy,
What did I do?
Why do you look at me with eyes full of disappointment?
The words you speak are so angry, so violent
You make me feel so small.... I want to go hide again

Daddy,
Why did you hurt mommy?
How could you let me see that side of you?
Is it because, she's better than you?
Did you get mad that you couldn't just love unconditionally?
Are you still playing hide n seek with your dad?
You broke my heart that day daddy
That's the day you stopped being my daddy

Dad,
How is it you can't say sorry, and really wish you hadn't hurt me so?
When you hear me pour out my heart to you, tears flooding my face
Eyes burning red, and hardly able to catch my breath
You remain cold, silent unchanged
You're sorry
Lets never forget that... That you're sorry I feel this way
You're sorry I want you to explain why you hurt mommy?
And why you've never looked at me with pride in your eyes?

Dad,
You're so clueless to the damage you have done
A little girl needs her father
He's supposed to show her how a man is supposed to treat her like a princess
But, that was impossible, for you are the monster that guards the castle
You taught me things
You taught me love hurts
Love leaves
Love bleeds
And that the word love can mean nothing, even though its such a powerful word

Dad,
That was years ago
But, I carried around what I saw, what I heard and the feeling of your breath on my face when I displeased you
I grew up backwards
I thought craziness, pain and drama was the norm
As much as I despised you
As much as I hated even saying the word "dad"
If there was anyone around that was remotely like you
Anyone who yelled, pushed, threatened or verbally beat me so low I could barely stand
I let them in my life and said "oh I'm finally in love"

Father,
Don't get confused
Don't get my words twisted
This is far from all your fault
I stayed in the relationships that caused me extreme amounts of heartache
My mistakes in life will always be mine
But, if you dare try and say your hands clean, I may show you another thing or two I learned from you "daddy"
The corner was the safest place until I finally got away
And clung to mommy to save me from the bad man
She became mom and dad
She filled your shoes way better than you ever could
Are you still sorry I feel that way?

Father,
This has gone on too long
Chasing acceptance and love from a man who didn't get it himself,
So how could he give it back right?
No. But, that's what you say to help you sleep at night
My hatred and anger towards you consumed me for many of my years
Everything lead back to, why doesn't he love me?
Why doesn't he want me?
Mom, what did I do wrong?
These were answers she didn't have answers for
So she just loved me more to try and make the void you created go away

Biological father,
Many things have changed over the years
I'm cracked, but no longer broken by the words you said, or couldn't say
I don't care about that look of disappointment in your eyes
Trust me, my disappointment for you is much stronger and much more powerful than the "standards" of yours I didn't fulfill
I haven't seen you in so long
I don't think I can remember the last time we spoke
Most of the time, I can't seem to fill in time when I've thought of you
You don't deserve my time
You aren't worth my words
And you'll never understand what I think
My life is a mystery to you

Daddy,
I will leave this world the same way I came in it to you
A person crying with wide eyes
Wide curious eyes that never really saw you
A person with no words that you'd understand
Someone who simply just needed you to show up
To say "I love you"
But, I suppose even adults can't say things they don't understand

Daddy,
It's round two of hide n seek
I'm going to hide first this time
I'll hide for a minute
Then I'll quietly get up and slip away
You'll never be the wiser
You'll wonder how I got so good at this game
Well, don't you know what a great teacher I had?
The further I go, the clearer the skies get
The breeze is warm and inviting, the house I walk into has the door open, in fact, it's always been open
Eventually, you'll realize I'm not hiding, I left you without saying goodbye
Your eyes will fill with disappointment and your voice will shake with anger because, it's the only emotion you know how to express
My blank stare won't make it better
Taunting in a way
You'll open your mouth to really let me know how I am
But, ssshhh daddy
It's ok
I'm sorry you feel that way
lauren Nov 2016
i have slept restlessly for  nights now, reliving the events that have conjured within the past 72 hours. i think to myself, how would anyone want to bring another into this world knowing the pain they will endure? yes. you will feel pain, indescribable, chest filling, body aching pain from your head to your toes. i wont try to paint a perfect picture of this world and let you down. hating me every moment for the things i never said. you will be beaten down by others, torn away from the connection you thought you had. you will sit in a coffee shop alone, biting your lip with anxiety, and he will call you in the dead of night pleading for you to keep him company once more. you will miss the way you looked at the world, with innocence and purity, reliving every moment of suffering and rewriting its pages. you will invest your heart in people, things that will only let you down. but sweet child this suffering that you feel will be soon over. it is how you overcome these situations of awkward confrontation and scandalous betrayal. because one day a bee will buzz past you and you will jump up and down like a child again, tugging on the end of your own dress, smiling. you will laugh once again because the perpetual love you feel from those who surround you with positive energy will fill the gaping hole of disappointment that the world has so willingly handed you. like i said, i will not paint a perfect picture for you, because every artist has their flaws, but they cover them oh so well. and you should never have to carry that kind of burden.

love always,
me
Colin Kohlsmith Feb 2010
I can’t seem to get
The hurting to stop
The emotions run deep
And I can’t let it drop
You breeze into my life
And dance up a storm
You embrace and you leave
As if it’s the norm
And I’m left with this churning
And deep sense of loss
But you’re happy and smiling
As if there’s no cost
I don’t like where it’s going
Or what I’ve been through
It’s a choice how I feel
And it’s not something new
I’ve had it explained
So often before
You just can’t force open
A closed, bolted door
So peace is a treasure
You give to yourself
How you face disappointment
And the dreams that you’ve shelved
jeffrey conyers Jun 2013
Life's full of disappointment.
Some we can't help.
But when you think back about your mother and father.
And the way they tried to stop them from happening.
You respect them.
For even they knew something were meant to happen.
Because many are out of our hands.


Life's full of disappointment.
But after the tears been cried.
You mainly find a few reasons to smile.

Even at our worst.
We always able to find comfort within church.
Kari Dec 2012
Young,as a child
I knew, someday, dreamed, someday,
I'd find a prince.
Grown, almost
I search,always, hope,always,
and find only men.

— The End —