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.
I don't care who your god is It's alright who your god is I don't care how you pray It's alright All I care is where my heart is Here. Here my heart is What I do with it today
. . Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
Gazing within, I can see the warm light Where I sit, the rain and cold bite. A big coat fits but doesn’t satisfy, On a familiar portal - my eyes lie.
Cars roar by, water flies in air The sky pours sideways, all over my hair. Sitting outside, peering in, eyes wide - I view my long-lost family inside. I jealously watch their fun And silently pray for the sun.
Raindrops on glass in front of my face, Oh, how I yearn to be back at this place.
The faces of my heart wave and invite me back, Grabbing the doorknob, it breaks with a snap. I dearly miss this house, for it is no longer mine, I watch at the window for days at a time.
A calamity of views abused When the alcohol is strong The choices go wrong Everyones offend through Misinterpreted temptation Using my over analyzing brain to calm the degraded Crying over a mundane sane Looking for persuasion Through persecution Picking out your weaknesses Bleakness, is a majestic trait Not intentionally Burdening their agony My name is animosity I depict a character that sympathizes Your alibies Using my vulnerability Contaminated humility Finding The hiding No problem suggesting My dark secrets of the night Applying my skits that fit right Paranoid to be viewed in a mortifying light I would be lying denying my animalistic ride I have scrutinized Remorsing I see earth born Godly you stand In the morning Behold deformities You fit the norm I bow to your Godly proportion In vein this I pray Amen
And when you pray Ask from your heart And when you pray Seek from your soul And when you pray Sniff around without ceasing Through your tears To find the doors That He has prepared To brand new frontiers For you, His pioneers. And then - Knock.
Once we were on fire Young rebeliouse free We stormed the castles and took to the skies we flew we dreamed We were ablaze our light setting raging screaming fire to the world around us When our thoughts could not sit in silence any longer When the kids were engulfed by a wave of fury of the injustice done by this world before we were even here We screamed and demanded OUR VOICES WOULD BE HEARD But now it rains Now the cold heavy water blankets the restless The fire has been drenched in worry and stress The brutal downpour has distracted all with false life or death The blaze once 100 feet high now nothing but a charred soul
And all the ones put out by the rain to tired to fight again, pray on the generation next That their fire is enough to best the storm
I still remember your look, The ''judging look'', when you saw me with him. I can't say if I was happy because I saw you hurt, Or I just was sad because you needed so long, To find out, To find out that you actually love me.
But I'm happy. I've got my revenge. I've made you admit it, Even though you never said it to me. But I did it.
But this time I have left. I've got my revenge. I've got inside your head. Even the strongest one has fallen. And finally I have found a peace.
And even tho months has passed. I still pray for you every night. I still pray that you find peace. I'm so sorry that that peace wasn't me. And I'm sorry I needed so long to see it.
But I'm happy now. He is nice, and I can say with all my heart that I love him. He is giving me everything you were never capable of. Love, kindness, happiness, protection. I finally see the future.
But still, I will remember our month, Our lovely November. Stay safe my Scorpio, Because, finally I have left. But I will pray for you.
Not everyone flies. You land hard a lot. Then just as you think it's time for a new direction, just as you think it's not worth another stumble, a fresh fall onto your knees, you launch and take flight.
An updraft catches your wings and you're airborne. And when you eventually land you see that you've got somewhere new, a whole new perspective. That's when you know you're a flyer.
Not every line flies. You land hard a lot. Then just as you think it's time for a new direction, just as you think it's not worth another stumble, a fresh fall, your thoughts take flight.
An updraft catches your wings and you're airborne. And when you eventually land you see that you've got somewhere new, a whole new perspective. That's when you know you're a poet.
Not every prayer flies. You land hard a lot. Then just as you think it's time for a new direction, just as you think it's not worth another stumble, a fresh fall onto your knees, your prayer takes flight.
Your spirit resonates with His and you see His face. And when you get to your 'Amen', you see that you've got somewhere new, a whole new perspective. That's when you know you're a pray-er.
everyday i pray for you. i pray you’ll always make it through, whatever life may throw. whichever way it goes. i speak positive words. i speak success, & strength to chase your dreams & give your best. you are safe & secure, you are blessed, i am sure. because everyday i pray for you, everyday you’ll make it through. -
Pray tell Did your soul join the fish When you died? Did your lies swim within the same water I've wondered about death As everyone else does Maybe If I plucked off your scales one by one They'd tell me The answers ingrained on the fleshy backs Blood dripping from your tail I know you thought that In dying Peeling off your mortal shell Leaving the muscles behind Snapping the tendons connecting your bones That you could get away from me That you could leave me with unanswered questions To be sown for another person Passed on But even now I've hunted you down I've snared your soul While you took another form So simple Granted even pretty But now I've flayed your scales I've split your tail in half Seeking the answers to my questions Some sort of comfort Some sort of warmth From the blood Your blood Seeping through my skin Pleasantly warm I see your large eye Glassed over Its amusing They used to be so blue With sharp cheek bones beneath them But now they've just been angled The flesh silver instead of a healthy pink Fingers replaced with fins Memories replaced with bubbles Pray tell Do your memories swirl in the vortex of under currents? Am I down there?
when I was a young girl I was raised to believe that a man in the clouds always watched over me watched over me with all knowing sight as long as I prayed to him every night as long as I blindly worshiped this being I would be happy and healthy and free but what is freedom when you are alone in a faith that prohibits the dark unknown?
"I am a jealous God," he said, for I was taught to be meek having faith in what I see is blasphemy for a fruitful life on earth, my soul I would sell, if that did not sentence me to eternity in **** spitting, burning demons aflame forever tortured in this everlasting game beaten and bruised and ****** below to a place that no one would choose to go but He loves me
"you must look well, clean up, wear your dress!" in order to avoid loneliness you must follow these ten rules he ignores the world's strife despite his tools but He loves me
why do we not thank our doctors and mothers? we thank God instead of the works of others what has he done? he sits there and stares he sits and laughs at what is not fair but He loves me
he needs time he needs money he needs blind faith he needs me to sacrifice my soul he needs me to sacrifice who I am
...but He loves me
if this poem is offensive to you, don't worry, it offends me, too.
lords, i lost both of my arms and both of my legs in the War of Vietnam the bitterness has faded away, but we must learn how to forgive i still, love my country i can sing the National Anthem, and i can say the Pledge of Allegiance, but i cannot put my hand over my heart, because of my handicap disabilities Yet i thank God, each and every day, for blessing me with my precious life, because hope is alive, and i am willing to pray
People pray so different here- that woman there, she wails and yells, while that one sheds a single tear. This man shakes a fist like ringing bells, and this one see's a ghost appear. I wonder just what the preacher tells these folks to draw them ever near- Does he weave tricks, and practice spells to keep them held by webs of fear for invisible demons and fiery Hells? Or could he be just a gentle seer who's drunk so deeply from life's wells upon which most just lean and leer, and who has tasted what Satan sells, enough to know what is truly dear?