"nicole" poems
She introduced herself, as
Sunset.
Batted her lashes not to be flirtatious ,
But to hide that her eyes were wet.
All around me were blurred, but beautiful faces.
Yet, my eyes only focused on hers
The first that I noticed.
*When I bought my first camera,
From that sales-man down in Alabama.
And he taught me how to use it,
He said, "see here son, if I was to take your picture I'd set this camera here on portrait.
But if I took a picture of that pretty little girl 'cross the road"
he said with a smirk
"I'd have to set this here camera on Firework"*
It's funny how memories work.
I think of that man now, of his coffee colored skin and straw hat.
I never thought I'd need to know any of that.
but right here and now I set that camera to sunset.
raise it to my eye
And take a picture of
Sunset.
As if she were a colorful sky.
and that's it.
some people deserve more than a portrait.
And I know, I'm going to take her to a dark room.
And see what develops, of her negatives.
But first, I want to hear all about her crazy relatives.
Who gives her, her beauty?
where's she take her dog to groom?
The poodle on her leash is a cutie.
and what does she doodle on her notebooks?
stars or hearts or sugar skulls....
Does she know she's caught me on her fishin' hook?
What's she think of me, I'm sure I look dull.
Why are her teary eyes so full, About to overflow.
There were so many things I wanted to know....
before I took her to a dark room.
But it happened
And all I found in the picture that developed was gloom.
I realized I was her first.
And the best night of my life became my worst.
because I took something from her she didn't want to give.
But I just didn't know that she wouldn't want to live.
Keep reading, this ends beautifully.
beautifully like a sunset ends a day.
But, you have to believe me when I say that's not nearly as beautifully
As Sunset ends my hopes and dreams.
How she ended her own life
With pretty little pink pills.
One....Two....Three
gripped in her hand they found a picture of me.
And now I know, Sunsets are all about Beautiful Endings.
It's funny how memories work
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
You had me hooked,
When you asked to cook for me.
But you seasoned my food with poison ivy.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
When I asked you to fix me,
You told me I wasn't broken.
But, let this soak in.
I just wanted to know,
If i was still a pretty enough picture to be worth, agonizing over a puzzle.
Even when it's a struggle.
And you have to nuzzle each piece into place,
Kissing the pieces bent out of shape,
Searching for pieces gone missing,
But you can't make a raisin back into a grape.
Yes, I Remember your middle name
And who says we can't celebrate failure?
Don't be sad, we tried, we tried.
When you write your story in the sand it washes away with the tide.
It isn't our fault.
We may have cut ourselves open, But we didn't ask for the salt in our
wounds
Can I still say "we"?
I guess you're kind of done with me.
I don't blame you, Puzzles are frustrating.
they're a tease.
Please, tell me I haven't lost the most important piece.
Tell me I haven't lost
you.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
I guess I just expected
Something else
It happens every year,
I get excited
Hopeful
Giddy
That maybe
This year will be
Different.
Maybe I'll find an awesome friend
Who does my nails
And answers calls at two am
Like Nicole did
Before she moved to California
Or she could be like Kayla
Who would be silly with me in
Drama class
And use chocolate sauce for blood
In our Black and White movie
Before her dad died in combat
And she went to bury him in
Some foreign country
Where cell phones
Don't count
Or a boyfriend like Louis
That I could see a future with
Sitting listening to Relient K
In a college dorm
With a million years to spare
Before he left for London
But the girl in front of me
In English
Pops her gum for the boy
In the next desk
And could poke my eye out
With her fake straightened hair.
The girl in my drama class
Cakes on her mask and
Participates in pageant after pageant
And calls her anorexia
A diet
And I heard the rumor
That the boy I thought was cute
In chemistry
Was caught ********* his
Girlfriend
Under her desk in
Español Dos.
I didn't think my standards were too high to meet.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
rihanna and lana del rey
please don't become her
one day
dorothy dandridge
whitney houston
marilyn monroe
anna nicole
their sadness I did know
beautiful and broken
the pain never let go
the men, the drugs,
the heartache followed
they were all a living example:
misery is captivating
and beauty is shallow
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
& I have loved every moment of it.
This summer has drawn me in with heat and rain,
and spit me out as a whole new animal.
I have danced drunk around bonfires, done rituals in the damp woods, cried on swing-sets, screamed about the stupidity of boys, and smoked too many American Spirits.
My heart has been opened to others as well as myself.
I have met the most wonderful of people and some of the not so wonderful.
With Nicole I have found a family that has no blood ties to me.
I’ve found a
HOME
not just a room where I’ve created a home for myself.
My feet have found pleasure in the heat of the earth after a hard storm and my lungs the heaviness of summer air.
Love has become a thing I demand rather than crave.
I’ve found my strength in bottles of red (&chocolate;) wine and in the embers of a fire.
I have found myself knowing that I am enough.
I may be confused in the ways of my future, but I have a place to figure it all out. I have a family dwelling in my bear-heart. I carry them in my chest and in my soul.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 5:10 PM UTC
Is it nice inside your closet?
Do you have enough room?
Listen, you can talk to me. I have secrets too.
Do you enjoy Life inside your Closet?
And can you call it Home?
Maybe, you'd like to get out.
Visit Jamaica, Paris, Rome?
You know, I wouldn't let you travel alone.
Are you afraid of your parents?
or the judgement of your peers?
Afraid your deep dark secret might spill out after a few beers?
Don't want to ruin your reputation?
with what? The truth?
Scared of Confrontation?
Sweetie, don't waste your youth.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
Aesthetician stares deeply into the center of a tulip
tears stream as we cry
but the earth doesn’t
ethereal spectors flow about religion
Washington did live in
a racecar, palindrome
*** Wisdom!
Meowth! I haven’t since the 90’s had a soul
estaban caresses his lover
his wife prepares
a pineapple
tapeworms infest
****** inside of a colonic protestant
whipped into shapely curves once withheld
by the likelihood ferrari
Pro-lifers are only just a fad or fling
cloudy like the soft color of pink
union between man and *****
Nicole smith I hope you go to
h
e
l
l
Awesome is he with a fatty
slimeball
foil wrapped burger
SASQUATCH GONE WORLDWIDE
Santeria love making ends with regret! Nay, Disgust!
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
2003, where did you go?
My Scene dolls and All Time Low
Red Jeeps and glitter cheeks
Thirteen and hip hop beats
Tube tops, pop n lock
Don't forget your frosted lipgloss
Butterflies and Blink's First Date
"Forever Yours" on a silver keychain
Belly rings, snorting pills stings
Tiered skirts and ankle bling
TLR, Summerland
South of Nowhere, Degrassi: The Next Gen
Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton
Travis Barker and Ashlee Simpson
Fall Out Boy and Timbaland
Pete Wentz almost ended it
Promiscuous, Grand Theft Autumn
Jeans hung low, and girl you got em
I wanna live there over again
Everything was better then
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 3:57 AM UTC
Her poem
"Take Me Home"
Meant so much to me
How I have often wondered
Why my life is
The way it is
As I wander the streets of my city
I am a lover of the light
Whether it be daylight
Or moonlight
I would walk a 1,000 miles
Just to see a glimpse
Of her smile
To be honest Nicole
You are incredibly beautiful
I hope you find someone
Worthy of you
Someone to treasure you
I would gladly be your scribe
Recording your words
Of wisdom
On parchment if I could
Nicole
You are a true Goddess
In every sense of the word
I bow down before you
The most beautiful women
Of the ages
Cannot compare
To your radiance
Truly, A Goddess
In every sense of the word
Thank you
For your beautiful poetry
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 4:45 AM UTC
Before I was born,
My mother wanted to name her child Kaitlyn
As the firstborn,
That should have been me
Kaitlyn was my mother's favorite name
But as soon as I was born
She looked at me
I just took one look
And realized,
I could never be her Kaitlyn
Three years later she tried again
Now her Kaitlyn was born
A beautiful,
Happy,
Innocent little girl.
My mother calls me
"The trouble child"
I cause trouble
I am not good enough
I am not her Kaitlyn
Now I am named Nicole
My mother wanted her child to be Kaitlyn
She loved the name Kaitlyn
Was I not good enough?
Why was I not her Kaitlyn?
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
Flick my bean and I might scream,
do it right and I shall cream
Want to try come on by and work that tongue in my inner thigh...
Now you got me all riled up...
I just want to make you **** ...
*** on my face Or in my ****
I don't care where I just want your nuts.......
By Morgan Nicole Humphrey ... Liberty mo
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
I like to make lists,
of things I've lost, assignments I've missed,
Of people I want to meet.
And I admit, most of those people are poets.
And I know how typical that might seem,
aspiring poet looks to understand a greater inspiration,
be enlightened by the sound of their voice as humans,
not the voice they use on stage, a made-up persona, a super hero.
And all of that? Is true.
I want to ask questions, I want to hear about their triumphs and their regrets and try to match each one with things I've heard from other poets, relate it to myself.
I'd think maybe I can be great one day, display one of my own poems on a trophy shelf.
And for every person on that list I have another someone,
on another list labelled People I am Proud to Know.
And all of these people are poets.
People you will probably never hear of,
And if you have, you still can't possibly understand the origin of their stage names,
The inspiration for their concepts.
And I will try, with every ounce of my being to spill out the trivia into a fishbowl as if these people were goldfish. As if I could ask you to stick your hand in and try to grasp the idea in your bare fingertips with my muck of explanations as your only net.
But its hard, because not all poets have pens, not all poetry is built with words.
It is built with sweat and and laughter and pride.
In name calling I wish I could go by on stage.
There is poetry in the way she kisses her boyfriend,
There is poetry in the way Malawi still sparkles in her eyes,
There is poetry in our long nights and jokes and the way they tell me to shut up simultaneously.
There is poetry in our dances on the sand.
I will forever follow in their footsteps.
When we were little, they they used to make me cry just so they could be the ones to tell me it was okay.
There are still days I cry. There are still moments I feel homesick no matter where I am and feel like it'll only get better if they let their baby sister crawl between their sheets.
I follow in their footsteps because it makes me feel like I know where I'm going,
through sand or snow or mud,
there will always be poetry there.
I feel it. Its all I've learned to know.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…open wide! The all-new Angus third-pounder…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…illiteracy: an incurable disease or education malpractice…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…childhood obesity is at an all-time high…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…suicide bomber, 10 people dead…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…teachers on strike again…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Michael Jackson…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…another Amber Alert has been issued…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…number of Americans going hungry increases…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…ninety-six billion pounds of food go to waste each year…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Nicole Kidman loves her new *****
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…another soldier was killed yesterday in a firefight…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“...you can do to protect against H1N1…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…live the rainbow, taste the rainbow…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…the King of Pop…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…confirmed: the remains belonged to 6 year old…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…boy refuses to pledge allegiance unless gays and lesbians have equal rights...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…scientist reveals her secret life as a **********
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…police are waiting on a positive ID on the girl’s body...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Michael Jackson...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…actor who played Santa Claus jailed for having *** with boys…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Iran is restarting their nuclear facility…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…armed teen jumped the pizza delivery man…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…woman who has three hundred ******* a day finally meets her dream man…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…why we love Taylor Swift…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“fifteen year old son, shot by his father, has died tonight…”
BTZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ [click]
Jan 3, 2010
Jan 3, 2010 at 8:25 PM UTC
Hace algún tiempo, cuando todavía me consideraba cadaver, no hubiera llegado a pensar que podría volver a sentir. Desconectarme era lo mío. No sentir, no querer vivir, lo usual, lo de todos los días. Cuando todavía me consideraba cadaver, no tenía documento que probara que algún día hubiese estado viva. Cuando estaba fría y sin vida, todo lo que quería es sentirme como ahora lo hago. Lo negaba, si. Me odiaba, si. Pero quería, claro. Después de ese tiempo, cuando ya no me consideraba cadaver, descubrí que las marcas no se irían nunca. Seguirían tanto en mis piernas como en mi cabeza y que todavía podría ser almenos parte cadaver. Solo amaba a la tierra mas no a los habitantes y menos al tibio cadaver llamado Nicole. Pasaron meses y el cadaver vino a la vida. Revivio y en cualquier momento se puede convertir en una persona como otra. El cadaver dejo de ser cadaver. BOOM. CAPOOM. La agonía termino. ¡El cadaver esta vivo! Se grito por las calles, mientras este saltaba y gritaba que lo amaba.
Se podría pensar que esto termina como en los cuentos de hadas. Finales felices y cuentos para dormir. Pero una historia tan tenebrosa como la del cadaver no puede ser contada, ni recordada. Pero talvez, solo narrada.
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
Knock Knock Jokes Aren't funny when There's nobody there.
Actually, Nothing is funny when no one's there to care.
when your sense of humor washes down the drain.
there's nothing left to feel but numbness and pain.
I'ts been an eternity since the landscape of my face has had this much rain.
My cheeks have been so dry.
I was self-taught not to cry.
I'm understanding now, why a drought was called The Great Depression.
Depression, Not a direction I want to go.
But you wouldn't know I'm there.
That's how it works, Depression.
You know, it goes so much deeper than a ****** expression.
It's not so much easy to hide it , as it is you get good at it.
But no matter how long-lived the drought,
What I would be more worried about,
Is the ground being so dry it's lost the ability to absorb the rain.
Have you ever seen it rain after a dry-spell?
the raindrops plop to the ground and swell on the surface, not soaking in.
I don't know where to begin,
They told me I'd feel better if I cried and "let it out"
But, I think they know, it takes more than that to end a drought.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC
I want to thank Vicki, Poetry Journal, Paul Butter, Adhi das, Mia, FJ Davis .
Anu, Sukeeti, Paul Gaffney,NvrMd, Pradip, It gonna make sense, Marian.
Timothy,Jasmine,Georgia,Janiloms,Iluvia,Nameless wonder,Firefly, Bianca.Mike Hauser , Mohamed ,Falen Acon,MydystopiA, Vanessa Gatley, and Nicole.
Plus so many more whom poems are so beautiful, they touch us all.
I just want to let you all know on here that you are truly appreciated.
For all of your beautiful words , feelings that went into your poems.
I just wanted to say thank you to each and everyone of you all here.
God bless each of you today and every single day that you live here.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
the film plays
a 1950's film
I am lost for a moment;
dancing to the blues and looking into the eyes of a lover -they're grey.
grey eyes. grey skin. grey lips. grey ballroom.
grey. grey. grey. -everything is grey.
But his eyes are a deep grey with light specks,
and the tiles on the floor are patterned with different shades,
and he is dressed with dark grey attire
-but he is the most colourful thing I have ever seen.
In a colourful world you would think things would be complementary;
but the more colourful it appears, the more black and white it is;
the carpet is red, just red, the walls are white, just white,
his eyes are brown. Just brown.
but in this film his eyes are grey -light, grainy, grey.
There's grey in his eyes,
and there's grey all around me,
but my, I seem to have gotten lost;
his eyes are the most colourful things I've ever seen in my life.
the film stops.
(Nicole Joanne) all rights reserved
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
I think I'm losing you, but I will never regret choosing you
Because I am in love, and for now that will be enough
And the ones around me convince me that I was the only person who was dumb enough to believe that you and I had hope.
But now I know even after you began to let your emotions slow the only reason I stood alone was because I was the only one who knew our love was never going to let go.
Everyone wanted me to see that we could not thrive, so gouge out my eyes.
Because if this is reality then I guess I'm not alive,
Because I don't know a life in where I can't make things right.
And when life teaches you to drive and you finally say goodbye
And you won't let me stand by your side
Ill know that though some feelings are hurt, none will have died.
Cause I used to stay up at night and picture myself looking into your eyes
Shouting as you would sigh “how dare you think you can fall asleep with water dripping from the kitchen sink, how dare you think you can fall asleep with all these little leaks in this home we built in our dreams”
A picture is worth a thousand words or whatever people say to me.
It's hard to believe when your mind is lost and in need,
And all you can picture is a memory inside of someone else's sheets.
A prayer that nothing will keep,
A hope that light will seek before the dark sinks too deep.
Or at least the sinking feeling inside of me will decrease when the release of perceived dreams burn in the flame of feeling free.
So feel free to be free if that's what you need.
And if someday you feel alone and everything caves in when you try to breathe,
Know that you are not alone as far as I can see,
Because you were everything to me.
Through this I have realized that if I were God we would have all just died,
Because darling you were mine and now I feel so dead inside,
And what good am I if all I can create is a projection of my own mind.
A dream of finding time to remind you that I'm still here and I'm not fine.
And darling if you're going to leave just remember who you are,
And do what you can to remember me.
Maybe someday we can talk about our past and we can talk about the weather.
Whenever you leave I don't care what I'm remembered for,
I just want to be remembered.
Because even if I failed you at least I tried,
And maybe our lives don't add up now but someday our graves will look the same when we both die.
And if I had a chance I'd give you one last kiss and I'd bite down on your lip
And I'd try to puncture it so you'll never forget that time,
But you'll always regret.
And darling I know sometimes life will take a turn for the worst,
And sometimes life will even hurt.
And I know some days, some days you'll be afraid of the lessons you'll have to learn
And some days you'll even feel burned,
And I want to let you know that I want to love you through them.
But I always get what I deserve.
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 2:47 AM UTC
Verse:
Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Ghandi, Lucille Ball
Quiet and soft-spoken
Take the spotlight
Every bone in their body tells them not to
They took it not because they wanted to
Not because they enjoyed directing others
Not out of the pleasure of being looked at
Because they had no choice
Because they were driven to do what they thought was right
Chorus:
Roosevelt and Ghandi
Rosa Parks and lovely Lucy
Inner peace is what we all need
You're not a failure if you can believe
Verse:
Steve Martin, Ella Fitzgerald, Nicole Kidman, Lucille Ball
Shy actress was an oxymoron
In the so-called Golden Age
Let's make today the real Golden Age
And stop being so mean to each other
Take a walk in another person's shoes
Play the role of the person terrified to speak
Turn a party around so you can see it the way we see it
As a battleground
As a place of judgement and fear
Verse:
Einstein, Lincoln, Edison, me, you!
Laughed at in their classes and by the masses
When they had the ideas to change the world
If you would ever let them read their books
How many people have given up their dreams?
Just because they were shy?
There has to be a better way to deal with this
And someday I know you will get there
Touch the sky, touch our hearts
And find the love you always wanted
Bridge:
Solitude
Solitude
Inner peace is what we all need
The ability to be you
The ability to be the original
Not the knock off
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 5:10 PM UTC
I know all of the cuts and burns I've seen myself before.
I know all of the twists and turns. I've been down this road before.
Like a Geode, I have Crystals inside.
But on the outside, I'm like any other rock.
so how would you tell me a part from a stone.
I don't have a lot of self pride.
That shouldn't come as a shock.
I've always walked this road alone.
But I'm a Geode.
I'm a Geode.
Though you'd never know till you break me, and open me up.
only then will you see my crystal beauty.
when I'm in pieces and have had enough.
But there's no way of knowing a Geode from Rock.
You won't find out in time, No you won't hear it from the clock.
But if you love them you'll break them.
no matter how tough.
and you'll see the inside shell and if it shines.
You'll never find out if you don't cross any lines.
And it might be rough.
But they just might shine.
I read that Thunder Storms are formed from unstable air.
And I don't know,
I'm just taking some unstable breaths right now.
I didn't mean to start a Storm or anything frightening.
But oh well, Brace yourself. I'm not afraid of lightning.
It's only energy tween earth and sky.
Were all energy but were not as striking as lightning, though i don't know why.
Because We keep our beauty on the inside.
instead of being broken and exposed.
When you broke you chose to heal
we all do it has more appeal.
But why not expose ourselves.
Not every thorn has a rose.
not every rock is a Geode.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC
MISERY loves Company
Mainly,
Because Happiness already has it.
SMILE
why should I when no one's there to see it.
LIVE
why should I when no one's there to breath it.
No one to inhale the promises I exhale.
Misery loves company, loves heart ache, loves heart break.
Victim of earthquake
Loves
Victim of Tsunami.
Sad Fatherless Girl
Loves
The boy without a Mommy.
MISERY loves company.
Mainly,
Because happiness already has it.
If the homeless love the homeless they'll be hopeless to ever have a home.
If the orphaned love the orphaned they'll forever be alone.
Misery loves company and Misery loves love.
Love,
Is a miserable thing.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
I take off my coat and stomp the snow off my shoes.
Trip over the rug and instantly bruise.
Glance up at the stack of medical bills, next to the various bottles of pills.
Crawl into bed to drift away.
Ready to escape another horrid day.
and right when conciseness started to vanish.
There's a knock on the door,
A little Spanish girl I'd never seen before.
"Sorry, wrong house."
She says in a heavy accent.
I notice her knit gloves are frozen
On her hands, made perfectly for imprints in cement.
And I wonder
If she ever made art with her hand prints when she was a kid,
I don't know, maybe she was better than that.
But for some reason, I want her to make me one of those hand print crafts.
So I say, "But this house has a fireplace, come on in."
She steps inside and laughs.
I pull the frozen knit gloves off her tiny cold hands. and breath into them to make them warm.
My stomachs butterflies are flying in swarms.
Then she sees the the pills and asks "what are all these?"
My heart sinks
"Don't worry about it, just forget it...please"
Her eyes drop and get wide when she sees the bruise on my knee.
And for the first time she really sees me.
I know how she must feel.
getting in on the short end of a sick deal.
Or maybe she can't believe that it's real.
she just pulls up her sleeve, and shows me her wrist.
A hospital bracelet with bold type reading flight risk
I start to tell her she needs to go back.
And feel my cheek turning red from her slap
she says "I'm sorry, Just don't make me go..Nobody want's to die alone."
I don't know if it was the needy look in her eye,
Or the helplessness in her tone.
But you should know that
She didn't die alone.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
Write a Clerihew:
It’s easy to do.
Two rhyming couplets of any length:
Short and simple, that’s its strength.
Remember Johnny Giles
A player with all the wiles.
In midfield he did scheme:
For Leeds he was a dream.
Nicole Scherzinger,
What a messenger.
A Friend so loyal,
Regally royal.
Oh Nick Clegg,
Why did you have to beg
For a Tory-led Coalition,
Sending the Lib-Dems into Perdition?
(PS) All hail be to great Don Newton,
Always had a winning solution.
Played table tennis with flashing blade,
A Legend that will never fade.
Paul Butters
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
When we were kids, I'd leave my window open,
So you could crawl into my bed.
Keep me company,
And direct the dreams in my young head.
But I had to board my window shut.
Yet, you still direct my dreams, somewhat.
So I made a dream catcher.
And trained a deadly spider to spin a web inside her,
As her Dream Catching net.
To stop the deadly dream's you inspire.
And so it went.
But now, I miss the nightmares.
For at least, in them, I could admire you for being there.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC