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Narrative Fear Poems | Narrative Poems About Fear

These Narrative Fear poems are examples of Narrative poems about Fear. These are the best examples of Narrative Fear poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative | |

My Heart Sobs

I'm till struggling to connect with you...
It feels strange that you are actually here, and so near..
You...walked past me a couple of times,
Your eyes were glistening, sober, serious...
Rushing by as if something deathly important lie ahead
In that moment, I could hear my heart thrashing in my throat
A victim in a prison, desperately closing those eyes from the fear
Wanting...to reach out to you....
But not knowing how...

How will you ever know the tears I have shed?
How will you ever see the love and care in my eyes? 
Maybe we will never know what we could be...
Maybe I am lost in uncertainty's sea

But, please...
Don't walk by me...
No, not anymore...
My sorrowful soul holds its breath when you do...
And when you are gone again...
My heart sobs...


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IN TOO DEEP

I joined the Brownies when I was seven Oh what fun I was in seventh heaven Having fun and making new friends But in the Brownies my life almost ends We were doing badges - this particular one was for swimming I wasn’t a strong swimmer and was having lessons We sat on edge of the baths in our costumes and hats Then we had to swim along the side of the middle of the pool To gain our badge we had to swim a width all the way across I’d only ever swum in the shallow end before But everyone else was swimming across… So I started off… got halfway across… And then I got into trouble Began to go under the water… Down Down Down I sank to the bottom of the pool Two men dived in to save me My parents were frantic They had been watching me ‘swim’ And were sitting upstairs on the balcony Unfolding before their very eyes Was their worse nightmare Thankfully these two men saved my life All I can remember was being rather ill at the side of the pool As the water came gushing out of me One memory I have is of being given chocolate buttons to eat on the way home AND I was awarded by Brownie badge – guess it was out of guilt I never did complete that width. Now I am scared of deep water If anyone asks me if I can swim… I say ‘yes’… like a stone! 11~02~14 Contest: Near Death Or Near Life Experience Sponsor: Anthony Slausen


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THE OPAQUEST NARRATIVE

In Michigan, the weather can change for the worst in October.
This particular Halloween came a blizzaring.
The lights went out and in a dark, dark room, candles were lit; therein, the opaquest 
narrative was captured.
* With the shape of With figment With look I will invent the human. Through the mind Via light With aspect The being I will project. I saw sadness. It stared directly at me. I gazed back. It begins to glare. I looked away. Why am I afraid? It is an ape, a primate. With child fists, I walked toward this apelike creature and strike out. Finally, I saw more than eyes and it pounces. It is a little child as a man. My hands represented some insight. Would we fight? ** The universe stood as earth. Solar we are to the sky above. Humanity shouts with a hoarse voice. Man, woman, and child stands as an echo. God sent the demons. The sinners are all of us. Through commandment of what Hell is Heaven is not. Demons are with God. The Pacific Ocean is the end of the world. It runs east and west. Why do we not investigate this? [Because our capabilities are limited!] Are we afraid of what we will find? We discovered each other and now we hesitate. Procrastination is a thing that delays knowledge. Are we wise to seek? Demons are with God. Are we? *** Body [body] {Body}! Gut (gut)! Skin and bones wake up! I am a reincarnation of that that is not known. Many have come before me but none was as I am. I am the body for the human to gut a man. However, women are now involved and they want to be in the belly. Instinctive they are but this was only for man to do. Why do they want to be that damned fool? Unconscious to the world that they are within, one would ask self why they want to be like men. The answer becomes to fit in. What if there is one left out? The answer becomes their bodies have been gutted and they are only GI. **** The Moon has no Gods. The Sun is what speaks to us. It tells us prophesy and what the world shall become. We are mongoloid, brown and bronzed spiritual to our existence. Our tribes are of North America. A hundred plus [we] stand[s]. Our land is our strength. We fought. We won. We lost. Died from disease but gave birth once again. Our population stands now and we are healthy. The European man has given our wisdom and knowledge. Our minds are set on our economic growth. We will become political minded. Five hundred nations are we those lost tribes of our history. ***** The mockery of man is a stance of incorrectness. It transforms through government and states that your freedoms are not anything to believe in. You, as people, are nothing but possessions and no one knows who is blessed. You are lucky to be here. Your way of life is given by our nation’s wealth. We are brought together as immigrants and the natives of this country are indigenous. We cannot pretend that we are more than that. We must pedestal ourselves to unity and know that people are only structure to adhere. One came for liberation. Others came via slavery. Nomads were unbound. They let them in yet they were said to be uncivilized. Today we are unified. We are the United States of America bound, bonded, and realized. {We are gratis; free to form our own lives.} ______________________________________________| PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 13, 2014!


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Evacuation and Loss

The night shone for the full moon,
Sky brewing a coarse monsoon,
Bolted were windows, locked were doors,
The frequency of death frighteningly soared.
But who was this infant high upon the hill?
He denied the storm and just stood stone still,
Eyes shut like blinds and fingers dug into ground,
Felt he could move no muscle, for was sadly street bound.
Shutting his eyes, arms wrapped tight round
His skinny body, battered and browned
Praying for the sake of friends, family and all
However imaginary, he imagined them call
 “Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry, remember our love”
Joining their gaze in the beyond above,
He softly mumbled a song to forget,
The once daily song that was always a duet,
Alone on that hill without any feel,
Of an afterlife he finally accepted, wasn’t real
Tears met the floor, now bathed in yellow light,
As lightning struck him too quick to fright,
Child lay on the floor, dismembered and black,
Though his mouth was smiling and his happiness had come back,
As re-joined with family, head held high, 
He waved his tortured existence goodbye.
Hugging his mum and his dad the same,
Somehow put an end to the incessant rain,
The natives emerged from their homes, safe and sound,
The boy crying for happiness at the new life he had found.
Soul peering at his body, dead at age eleven,
Holding family’s hands they could finally pass on and join heaven. 
The touch of their skin brought old emotion,
 Parents who were torn betwixt war and devotion,
A child whom they gave their best shot,
By train to board and bomb to not.
The grave of the boy with the electric crown,
Who carried a burden he couldn’t live down,
Stood proud in the yard of cobbles and stones,
For everyone knew those were a heroes bones,
When you look into the sky on a stormy night,
Remind yourself of the boy’s plight.
As he is the clouds that damper weather,
Out to protect his town, children altogether,
He wanted a life for them around,
That didn’t consist of being mentally wound,
A life that he could never possess,
But he did not bathe in spiralling depress.
Life is sacred, upon that hill,
Those cobbles and stones bring great goodwill,
For the sun only shines on that grassy land,
Still holding marks of the boy’s humble hand,
Some say that the yearly rain,
Is him up above, the tears of a chain.
The chain of the tears shed on that night,
Of the fear and happiness’ conventional recite,
Up above, being tucked under the covers,
Is a little boy with an injury he recovers,
Mother kisses his head and says her goodnight,
Father over bed, comforting a nightmare fright.
Drifting off, the boy could hear,
A little rhyme to calm his fear,
“Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry remember our love-“
The young man rose slowly in his bed,
Opened his eyes and smiled as he said
“I’m here”


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Fear of Flying

I wonder if my false smile fools anyone at all?
Perhaps I am pulling it off!
Do I look like someone who does this every day?
Do I seem self assured and confident?
No one seems to pay me notice...
Good

I purposely chose an aisle seat
Yes....I'm ashamed to admit it...
I'm one of those you hear about,!...Go ahead...laugh if you like...
Yes, hate to tell you, but I'm cursed with a fear of flying!

Oh I know....you'll tell me all that nonsense about aeronautics
How it's safer than driving the freeways...yeah...right...
Sorry....I can't hear you....my heart is pounding too loudly
My head is throbbing...my hands are shaky, my knees are trembling...

Ahhh.... a deep breath, ...ahh...another....wheww....
Oh-oh!! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH this is it!!!!!
Ohhhh...ohhh....oooooo ....here we go!!!......

I'll just look at the floor, ...
O.K.  O.K. come on..!! ....Try to think of pleasant thoughts!
Ummmm...green grass, ....uhh, butterflies,.. flowers,  ...dirt,...wonderful wonderful dirt! ...
HEAVENLY MOTHER EARTH!!!! 

What are those for?? Oh yes, I remember,...the small lights beneath our feet
Leading us (HOPEFULLY!!)...( just in case...you know...)
Oh, God...for escaping in the dark!! ....IF escape were necessary (or even possible!!) 
Oh Lord!
Little lights that lead ...to..to...where is it??? Oh, there....the exit!!
That's the nearest exit...(must remember....closest one I count is five rows ahead)....
Hmm...better count again....five rows...
Count them again...yes...one, two, three, four, five...

Do NOT listen to the deafening noise of the engines...
What was that??!!  I said... "DON'T LISTEN!!"....

Deep breath.....ahhh

The couple next to me
So animated in their conversation
They seem deeply enthralled by the landscape below them
Just sitting there...joking, and enjoying and pointing.....
Hmm..just a peek....WOW!...Look at that world...it's shrinking in size so rapidly!
Deep breath....
Hmm....well now, ....this isn't so hard...
Actually, well, maybe just another quick look....hmmm.....

If I crane my neck a bit....wow...I can see the ocean in the distance
I can see the patchwork of man's mark on the earth
Wow!  Wow !! ...would ya look at that???!
Wow, beautiful !!  ....   Gotta get a window seat for the flight home !!!...
Wow!.....Amazing..........!  That view.....................incredible!!!!

What's that....?? "Oh...yes..a coke would be nice..thank you!"

Hey...this isn't so bad....  Wow....look!! I can see the curvature of the earth....Wow!!!
Hey.....this is AWESOME!!!!


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Night Angel

They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
The man.
The child.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
The terror
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Agonizing
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A passer-by.
A doer of good deeds.
He stops.
He sees.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
Bravely
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
He runs.
He hides.
The passer-by,
Believing he saved
A child
From a long, cold walk,
In reality
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.


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The Empty Tissue Box

My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do 
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view

I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused

I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone

So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss


April 14, 2013


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Darkness

My feet are cold; my tiredness lingers;
My back aches from stooping so low.
Dampened by the frigid water below,
I breathed warmth into my numbing fingers.
Again, I dipped my shovel into the coarse gravel
Of the stream dredging up with a gurgle
A mixture of pebbles and sand;
Into a bucket I poured it, firsthand.
In this wilderness I'm not alone, there's bear.
Mindful I am of the sounds around me;
A churning stream, rustling leaves, an elk groan,
Snapping twigs, anything that would put a scare
Or raise my hair. I looked around for a tree,
Somewhere to flee before darkness set in.
Not far from here, I spied a log cabin.
Into this stronghold I placed my supplies;
Nature's calm was just a disguise.
I latched its massive door; and bolted each shutter.
In its stone hearth, I started a fire;
Basking in its warmth worries melted like butter.
Outside, darkness enveloped the cabin;
Strong claws raked its walls peeling away its skin;
Relentless growling resonated through the dusty din.
Suddenly, I awoke huddled next to a glowing flashlight.
Shivering against the muddy walls of a beaver's lodge, 
I could hear the bear feverishly ripping 
Through the muddy grass, and the disjointed timbers 
Above me. Deep beneath the surface darkness arrived
Just, as my flashlight flickered, then died.




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Drowning in Fire


The flames are rising,  my fears have come alive!
Far away, are sirens wailing
I must decide….I must decide…
My head spins, my hands are numb
What to reach for?   What to grab?  
What desperate measure must I take? 
What treasure lost…would cause my heart to break?

I quake in fear…I scan my brain
I see embers burning, swirling as falling rain

Our documents? With taxes due…what will we do without such proof?
The doll I’ve kept from childhood? The crystal vase I cherish? 
The pearls that came from mother, or the photos of our family?
Letters from Dad, when he was far away,
       or satin slippers worn by baby…from way back when, or... was it only yesterday?


I’m calming down,…..
My breath is found,  for now I know that won't drown

Not in fire, not in fear….not today, not in sorrow….
What to take?….. Nothing!
For treasures clutched in trembling hands, are never really gone….
                                                                
I have had them all, and will take them in my dreams for tomorrow….


.......................................................
Inspired by the Contest: Last Chance
Sponsor: Kristin Bruni


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this was me

it began so innocently
we exchanged ideas on poetry
his art, the suffering he endured
he preyed upon my compassion
as he meticulously bided his time...

i felt safe as we expressed
our mutual love of words
i was excited, i was learning,
unbeknowst to me, i was his prey..

many months and thousands of hours, 
talking, reaffirmed my trust; faith in him
he shared his life, triumps & tragedies
i supported all he desired for himself..

i understood, i felt his pain, 
his drive i admired, he overcame tremedous odds,
became a doctor so others would not suffer as he had;
he baited me; the innocent and naieve one.

living life with no regret,
i chose to take a leap of faith,
he guided me, alleviated my fears,
of promises to cherish and adore me..

as a tiger waits patiently to pounce on his prey
i was oblivious to his hatred inside,
he was a master of manipulation
his mission - to destroy me..

i felt he was worth giving 
up all i knew to build a life
he so lovingly described to me,
little did i know, his words - poison..

america bound i left everything i knew; i loved.
the terror of his drunken rages, his icy silence,
the cruelty of his words stung like red hot coals.
what he admired most about me,intensified his hatred.

the vacancy in his eyes was terrifying, 
i was alone in a strange country, 
knowing no one, in a house, not a home, 
full of tension, rage, abuse; numb and in shock;
this was my reality..

with each painstaking day of living in terror
dreading his arrival, my fear reached new heights;
i had enough; i was leaving.
his rage increased, his words pure venom..

i was numb, shaking, fear drove me to action
he became desperate, i did not sleep 
for fear of never waking, his actions so terrifying
i felt a strength within, empowering me..

planning my escape, fear became my ally,
i reached the airport and did not stop shaking
until safely on the plane, doors shut, 
moving down the runway to take-off;
i wept, i crumbled, i collapsed.

jubilantly at home, i felt peace, safe, 
and soaked in the beauty of my freedom; my home.
it has been six weeks; i have flashbacks, 
terror still haunts me; i am determined 
to not let another change me.

i am healing and am grateful for every
moment i smile, smell a flower, witness
the marvel of each sunrise and sunset.
i am a blessed girl.

~this was me~ 


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Lover's Love Lesson


You’re the one who taught 
me the words “I love you”
without the fear of losing you
even though my biggest fear 
was that I always lose people close to me
you broke down the barriers
just to reassure me,
that we’re in this together…

You are the one that
always came back 
after being chased away
after being stepped on
you’re the one 
who embraced me when
we were both scared about the unknown
when were both scared of the fight that lay ahead 

You are the one who 
endured the pain with laughter
to stop me from worrying,
even on your worst days, you hugged me
and said “It is okay, I’ll be okay”
that’s all it took for me to know
that you’d never leave me
even apart, we’re still one…


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Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away


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I am HIV - AIDS

I AM HIV/AIDS 

     
Saint Luke predicted me long time ago,
While the Book of Revelation warned you about me.
I am raging like a wild fire,
I am growling like a lion,
I have spotted you and I will pounce on you!
I am HIV/AIDS!

I attack people in all socio-economic and educational classes,
I cut across cultural and religious sects,
Graves and hospitals bear this testimony.
Despite significant medical accomplishments,
I remain incurable,
I am HIV/AIDS

From Africa to America, Australia to Asia and Artantica to Europe.
From  Cape Provinces to Limpopo and Mpumalanga to Kwa-Zulu / Natal.
From Bekkersdal to Grobblersdal and Makapanstad to Marabastad.
From Sun Valley to Sun City and  Mamelodi to Mametlhake. 
From Witlagte to Langlagte and  Suiwerskuil to Kromkuil.
I am reigning, I am HIV/AIDS.

Woe for the earth and for the sea,
Because I have descended in great anger to devour you!
I refer to you, who do not abstain,
I mean you there, who are not faithful,
And you here who do not condomise,
For I am HIV/AIDS.

Media has warned you,
Priests have preached at the top of their voices,
Politicians have cried loud,
Organizations and institutions have given you warnings,
But all these have come to naught,
Now I will kill you like flies, for I am HIV/AIDS

This is not news to you,
You will certainly catch me through unprotected sex,
Shared infected needles and syringes, contaminated blood,
And from an infected mother to her unborn child.
I then multiply in your blood, mercilessly attacking
Your defence system and leave you for the dead,
For I am HIV/AIDS.

You know this fully well;
You cannot catch me through
Sneezing, sharing toilet seats, coughing,
Or shaking hands with an infected person.
Behold, even if you are not infected,
You are affected by me, for I am HIV/AIDS.

Even though I am dreadful and mighty,
I will finally die and my heart is sore,
That will be when sense is finally knocked in your head,
That will be when you abstain from sex,
You remain faithful to your partner or condomise,
Remember, prevention is better than cure, for I am HIV/AIDS!                                                 




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That Spark of Hope

A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came 
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way… 
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.

The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways… 
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…


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The Cook and His Dish

Pity her as she cried 
On the floor, ragged, she lied
She's covered with odd bruises
And hell things on mind cruises

She was there left alone
Mourning for help at home.
Hungry and parched she was,
Hoping someone would pass

“Click! Click!”, the door knob sounds
At last someone’s around.
Who’s there? Who could that be?
At last! She will be free!

But it widened her eyes
Scared and again she cried
‘Twas a man who appeared
Went to her and she feared.

He touched her hair and said
“Hush! Hush! Just go to bed
Stay quite, don’t be a heck!”
And kissed her on the neck.

Poor girl, she just abide
To the man whom she feared
“Why is he doing this?
I’m his daughter, why’s this?”

In the bedroom they were;
Father started kissing her.
Poor lil girl can’t defy
If she speak up, she’ll die.

“Oh my Lord, please help me,
I can’t take it, save me.”
Said her mind as tears flowed
Grieving in pain; she moaned.

Then suddenly she smiled
From what she heard outside.
A sudden hope in her eyes gleamed
From something she perceived.


She heard her mother’s voice
"I'll be saved" she rejoiced
“A miracle for me
Lord replied to my plea.”

And the door opened
Mother saw what happened
Shocked and startled she was
Then screamed for help, at last!

Mother bellowed and slapped him
Outraged and said to him
“She is your daughter!
Why did you rape her?”

Then neighbors came
Naked -- poor girl was ashamed
Dazed and shaken they were
Staring at poor girl and her father.

Then two cops came along
Grabbed the father for his wrong
He panicked and dreaded
Denied all he acted

Livid and offended 
Lil girl stood and stated
“Oh yes, that man raped me,
Not just once but many times.” 

Then her father uttered
“My dish is my daughter.
I’m the one who made her,
So I should also taste her.”

Wretched from what she heard
She spoke not a single word
Woeful and quite, she sniveled
Suddenly collapsed and fell

At last poor girl’s now free
From nightmare and agony
Yes she has a father
But she’s his dish not his daughter.


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The Old Man

Up on a hill there was an old house and in it lived Abigail, a young lady without a spouse. One day her doorbell rang and she went to the door. There stood an old man, his head to the floor. He appeared scared and weak so she let him come in, for if she didn’t it’d be a sure sin. The old man smiled and gave his thanks, and she said, “Not to worry, there’s no need to thank.” Abigail and the elder talked for quite a long time. Sharing story after story, and soon drinking wine. The two became very good friends and laughed, and laughed ‘til night came to end. When the next day dawned, they went for a walk, down at the pond they decided to stop. It was frigid and misty, but they enjoyed the stroll because their friendship was warmer than the wind’s dreadful cold. As they stood in front of the calm, cool pond, Abigail asked, “Where do you come from?” The old man laughed a deep, dark laugh, “I come from the boneyard, the place of last breaths. I am the man, which many name Death.” The creeping old man then pulled out a knife and slashed Abigail’s throat before she could fright. Her life left instantly, her body grew cold, and the elder’s smile sparkled like gold. The pond was hungry and the old man knew that Abigail’s corpse would have to go soon. He tied a brick to both of her feet and tossed her away into the deep. As her body sunk into the watery blue, the elder stood there and felt renewed. Back on the trail the aged man went. Not a worry in mind, no remorse ever meant. He did what had to be done, to the grave his soul belonged. The elder approached another ol’ house. He rang the doorbell and waited, innocent as a mouse.


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The Sad Truth About Life

Oh the horror! For people, it's just fun!
~Reecie


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A Naughty Little Girl

I sleep. The hours tick by mercilessly; unfilled, purposeless, full of potential "What to do? What to do???" I mutter, tumbling, like Alice, down the rabbit hole. My hands push down ballooning petticoats, careful not to show or touch anything. I twirl beneath the pile down comforters. The hours tick by crimson red and in the dream, the rose Queen shouts, "Off with HER HEAD!" An eyebrow is plucked whole from my face. It falls matted and to the ground leaving me, brow akimbo, surprised, and horrified. "What to do? What to do? What to do???" Half shorn. Half drawn. Half born? A painter's pallet appears before me. A brow is drawn… for me. Yet, the Rose Queen still screams on. "Off with HER HEAD! Off with HER HEAD!"


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Nightmare of The Past

I looked out of my window, disturbed from my sleep
I was startled when I saw water knee high deep
I saw troubled people get out of their rooms
In front of their faces there was nothing but gloom

Lurking in the hallways, were cries of the dying
I could hear nothing but the shouts of the living
There was no need to proclaim, "The ship is sinking!"
I could hear loud and clear that the waves were rushing.

As I walked through the freezing icy cold waters
My whole body's shaking, from my face to my nerves
When a ferocious wind blew, I shook and shivered
Thinking survival's the only thing that matters

The sweat of the people arouses in the air
With the smell of adrenalin, fear and despair
Some fought for their lives beyond the hopeless moment
Some gave up and accepted what was truly meant.


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Scars Left Behind

Story of a boy.....

I was to go to bed at 8 that night
When there was firing at the door,
Heard mom gasp,"God save my son."
I had no idea of what was in store.
We ran to the basement and shut it tight,
Mom pointed to the passage where dad hauls in wood
Sternly commanded me to go
While still as stone there she stood.
The sinners banged the door hard,
Through the passage there was just room for me to fit
So I sat down and shook my head,
There was no way that on my mother I'd quit.
She looked at me in the eye and gave me a kiss
And said,"Darling please listen to me,
I love you so very much
As fast as you can, do get to daddy."
'I'll get Dad' I thought and started to crawl,
I had to hurry,the door had almost gave way too
Noticed a sharp thing in the way and stopped,
But mom, in haste pushed me through.
I yelped in pain as iron cut my arm,
But what hurt me more was the door falling with a 'thud'.
Scars on my soul left me nightmares for years to come
Mom's cries and final scream echoing as I ran in the mud.
Fifteen years later, in the same but better town,
I show my arm to my wife and say
"If not for these scars I was left with
I would be with mom today."

-Sadaf Syed


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Gun Shots

Sudden as thunder they crack in the night,
the boys in the lane leap over fences,
bottles crashing into stone walls,
and bullets whistle with echoing sound.


Political war,
Tribal war,
Gang war.
The boys fight with one another for the release of "the Don"
they rampage in the little town,
and round up all the informers.


Night comes alive,
doors open wide,
then suddenly,
"Lord, someone shot Sammi Joe!"

Lights bang!
and everyone rushes to look at the innocent one
lying peacefully in her pool of blood.

"Sammi Joe is dead!"
Her frightened mother yells.

Gunshots cracking in the night,
smashing glass,
and chiseling walls,
the burning night heat,
people scatter in the street.

Mr. Crow pisses his pants when the boys spot him as the informer
Dragged in the streets,
Crow's face flushed with the wall,
bullets puncture his head.

Further down the road,
the innocents grip tightly to their beds,
trembling,
wondering who will be next.

Bullets dances around the walls,
wailing heightens,
The massacre begins.
Blood washes the street,
dead bodies blocking the gate of the little town.

                                  ©2013 Christine Phillips


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World Economic Report, April, 2012

Fear feasts on our insides
And wrecks decision-making
Evil jumps in with glee
And another one loses trust

And another one down
And another one down
And another one loses trust

Evil grins
At what might have been
As another one loses trust

Housing fails
Markets, too
And countries follow suit

“Be afraid
Be very afraid”
Used to be a joke
But now it’s the match
That lights the glint
In Evil’s eye

Every day we’re fed
Too much detailed
 information
- Perhaps true;
Perhaps not -
With stated directives
To be
Very
Afraid


As Evil laughs
And Fear cavorts
Through our souls

With another one down
And another one down 
And another one loses trust

I will myself to turn off the media
Not to ignore the warnings;
But to avoid overexposure
To the cancer-causing
Smoking gun
Of fear




According to Article 37, Section 202 of the Code of Federal Regulation, the Congress states that “words and short phrases such as names, titles, and slogans; familiar symbols or designs; mere variations of typographic ornamentation, lettering or coloring; mere listing of ingredients or contents” are not copyrightable.
So thanks to John Deacon of Queen…


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into the wedge

There are some things, we will never forget


....

the sound of a phone call, still rings in my ears
squeezing my chest.....squeezing my chest...

the sun was sinking low, into the west
along with my heart
cold, under a blood-red sky

as we drove into the wedge of dusk
on the edge of our seats
in a frozen state 
on that icy slope
I was holding my breath in the liquid silence
coping........not coping
engaging in warfare
of knowing, without really knowing
how to hope, ...or what to hope for

but deep down
already knowing, the war was over...

my torso was rocking
without my control......forward and backwards
a life of it's own
a balm for raw nerves, I couldn't calm down
something to do, something to do
knowing, but not knowing
be hopeful, or be resigned?
coping? not well
 ...knowing, but not knowing

yet, somehow fearing
the war was over....

-

on that night that would change all...

he clung to the wheel......I clung to the seat
we clung to our prayers, but what was done, will be done...
what is gone.....will be gone

as we drove into the wedge of night
watching the moon replace the sun without remorse
we stayed on course, without a word between us said
but a slither of light on the horizon
filling my head with visions of birds on the wing
flying into the clouds
like a sign
as a shroud
taking my eyes
taking my hope
taking the doubt
taking instead
my own resistance
to what I already knew
it all
meant

what was done....will be done
what is gone....will be gone
losing hope....is losing hope
the war was over...

what is left 
we must accept




_________________________________


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Mask of Insanity

Mask of Insanity July 24, 2011
Masks are a masquerade between what’s real and things hidden behind them. 
Disguising one’s life behind ornate masks chances the fantasy and real mixing 
confusing the two. Mask can be beautiful and filled with dreams brought to life. 
What, when the mask becomes you and you the mask. Is this the mask of insanity?
 I wonder did I just say that out loud or was I thinking it? Why are people looking at 
me? Maybe they know I’m wearing a mask or maybe it slipped. I know someone 
called out to me; no I guess no one is there.  I am nobody, nothing at all. Have I 
now gone mad? I try to check my sanity as fear creeps up on me hidden behind my 
life full of many masks, confused and unsure; what mask if any am I wearing?
People and life continue to change around me. Changing mask often desperate to fit 
yet filled with screams, tears, and fear more often. Only these masks can hide such 
horror and mirror the fantasy from within. 
Insanity at times just under my mask waiting to expose me for the world to see! A 
masquerade of mask creating a fantasy filled life kept me from losing my mind. Being 
safe behind these mask left me not knowing who I am. Always in life I wore a mask 
not knowing what to do, now afraid I may be insane. 
Life has always hurt and distrust is all I know as pain and sorrow filled my heart and 
soul. I put on a mask to escape, to live and fit in. Now I wonder is this another mask 
or am I Insane?
						Debbie Knapp


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Fear and Pain

Fear is my pain alone.
Death is what you wished, 
so now let  me go.
In my remorse I am scared no more.
For this pain and fear is all I have,
left to show.
When you bury me let go,
of what love and hate,
you have left to show.
For Fear and Pain is what you deserve.
No longer in my remorse.


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House of Fear - part 1

A young man named Jonas stood at the doors
Of the house that had haunted his dreams
As behind the ornate, hand-carved oak
Its interior was not all it seemed

People entered the doors, then disappeared
It was the last of them anyone would see
So Jonas had made it his mission in life
To put an end to its mystery

Jonas passed through the doors and as he did
The doors locked – he had no way out
He took a deep breath, to calm his nerves
Then he started to look about

He was standing in a square hallway
With a map of the house at one end
A door stood each side, marked ‘IN’ and ‘OUT’
Written above ‘IN’ was a legend

‘Beware all mortals who enter this place
Solve Metis’s riddles or fear you will face’

He wondered what the legend meant
Faltering on going through the door
And what had happened to all the souls
Who had walked through this portal before?

Jonas opened the door, and entered a room
The door then vanished from view
As there was no obvious other way out,
He stopped to think for a moment or too

As he thought, he took in his surroundings
The room was panelled in wood as before
With a large chandelier, providing the light
 That shone on a plinth, in the centre of the floor

Seated on the plinth was a creature
That filled Jonas’s bones with dread
Half man, half beast with a bullish face
And which, though seated, towered over his head

With wizened finger, it beckoned to Jonas
And with powerful voice began to speak 
“Who dares enter Metis’s House of Fear
And what is it that you seek?”


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My Hidden Fear

People are my weakness and hidden fear
I just feel that some words they say set me in tear
For example I gave a person a smile one day and they gave me a glare
I did not know that smiling in the world today cause people to stare
These types of stare gave me chills down my spine a feeling that made me blind
Why? why is my weakness the people who are very unkind
Hiding is all I can do when people give me a unkind view
I get to a point that my fear seems to wonder and stew
People are who they are and what should I even do
I don't understand that they are evil and some times nice too
My hidden fear are people just because they are always around
That is no argument and my feeling are perfectly sound
The hate builds up in my mind, but does not bother, how my heart feel
I learned to undergo a change that my feelings become like steel
Hard as it should be in situations needed I forget how to use it
So it becomes my weapon and it is to some people heartless just a bit
My hidden fear is what I see in people today
They harm others and they think it is okay
That is why I fear my feelings for others at times because it is so confusing
My hidden fear is some what bad and some what a blessing


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A Soul Awakened

The warm light calls me
And all the people who cries for thee
I raise my hand in this abyss
Only to make one wish
To float among the others
With all my sisters and brothers
I call out for forgiveness with passion
I take their pain into myself for this occasion
The moment that I see the sky
I will not look back and cry
My body is laying still
People standing by it with a chill
The air gets dense with sadness
I would not think of it less
Some people look up and down
To see the light hit the ground
Some can vision the uplifting feeling they see
One soul that has been and always be
It is special to notice such aberration 
And that might be how souls are awaken


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End Of Life - 2012

Senior citizen wakes up
Looks in the mirror
What's happened here?

Time has caught up
The end could be near
Nothing to calm the pending fear

So much left to do
A feeling of dread
So much left unsaid

Must be a dream
This can't be right
Visions of Heaven's eternal light

Here the children
Their beautiful laughter
Wonder what comes after

Memories of life come rushing back
Like a sideshow; a play
Wishing for one more day

Too bad the young don't know
It's all fun; They don't care
Life happens; not always fair

Twilight is here; No more time
Fading out like the setting sun
No matter our plans, our life is done


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Last Thoughts

With beads of sweat on my forehead,
And my arms and legs cramped.
I concealed in a little locker
Away from the horrid mayhem.

Damp and worn; fear and torn
I seldom gasped for breath,
And even tried reciting
Othello, Macbeth and Hamlet.

Alas, all in vain!
Aware with each passing minute,
That I would face the same brutal end
As my tutors and friends.

I heard them moving closer,
I say a silent prayer.
With final memories of my beloved -
I await those crazy monsters.

"Bang, Bang!" I hear them shoot.
But it now sounds so afar.
I drift into a deep slumber,
When the door goes ajar.