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Best Lay Poems

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When I lay by Seligman, KC
She Would Lay in the Wind by barchettadrive, red
To Dumb to Lay Down by Guzzi, Debbie
Nature, Lay With Me by A., Mike
A ROSE SHE LAY Andaree by Guyler, Ian
lay down by Ntsane, James
Lay down by Ntsane, James
As My Muse Lay Sleeping - Part 2 by Spangle, Michael
As My Muse Lay Sleeping - Part 1 by Spangle, Michael

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The Best Lay Poems

Details | Lay Poem | |



A key to unlock the heart in loving thought to impart of simple words two lovebird simply find a way..... A simple wish A wish of love A simple love To wish upon To hold you near To let you in To let you hold Me once again I open up A heart of fear With opened eyes A love so dear This loving moment Held deep within Within a moment Gone again A simple wish A wish of love A simple love To wish upon I open up A heart of fear With opened eyes A love so dear

Copyright © Rick Parise

More great poems below...

Details | Lay Poem | |

Words from the Oracle

We are in our fall before the season comes
Misting eyes and dropping a dandy heart
A sullen silence around the bee hive hums
History has no center left, facts fall apart

I have nothing left for honey but my words
Listening cleanse the eyes to see forever
Soon the sky flocks with all departing birds
Old bonds are unbroken, new loves sever

But to come again in heat and passion and lie
Cradled against the unknown of life's tomorrows
So summer goes, and sweet flowers will die
To bloom again as carpet for graves of sorrows.

Soon gold will fall from trees in a gray misty shroud
And all that was green will be brown and dim
And wild grass will bow where the land was ploughed
And wind will tap on its trumpet life's requiem

Copyright © L'nass Shango

Details | Lay Poem | |

My Celestial Life

My life goes on and on
without any breaks nor rest
it’s like an icicle that melts
but never goes away.
My life is as perfect as it could be
like a rose to be seen
A garden of such beauty
from the fence to the house
My house is warm as a
fire burning in a forest
Music as Grace to the winds in a meadow
my room is messy as a tornado to a house.
The color of Red rose to blood
Color of the Night Sky to Black Sheets
those are the colors to life
Everyone else is happy with life
while I’m looking at stars in the night
Searching for a friend’s light
which are Galaxies away
Once I find her
She brings me happiness and joy
from her heart that chines at night
My life is as perfect as it could be
As we soar though the Nightless Skies of Day and Night.

Copyright © Annebelle Birch

Details | Lay Poem | |

I went out walking to the woods today

I went out walking to the woods today
I saw some canvas cities there
And many empty houses along the way
With yards overgrown or bare
And some building still in a heedless way
I met the paradox of man's dismay.

I went out walking to the woods today
To find the road not taken there
But following fire and cloud turned away
To  wipe my friend's uncomforted tear
And watch the jays and the magpies play
All around our descending disarray.

I went out walking to the woods today
To escape the cities cold despair
But from earth's predicament could not turn away
The sunlight withered gardens everywhere
And there the road not taken made of clay
God with us amidst sins decay.

Copyright © David Smalling

Details | Lay Poem | |


When in bondage your spirit flies
Your voice a distant, bleeding dove
On the table of my heart lies
The silent shadow of drooped love

Copyright © David Smalling

Details | Lay Poem | |

No Tomorrow's

  You know, its been in most fimiliard circles that the saying is...."tomorrow is
not promise to you". Yet 7 day's a week the census of time passes us hour by
hour, minute by (?) you know. The way of creation dictates why so many fimil-
iard people's live with so much sorrow. Do we tell them also that "No Tomorrow's,
no need to expect hope, hope in exceedily better yesterdays that promises a
chance at lease, if you get up-pitty is replace with No Tomorrow's".
You know, its been said by the glamour of religious folk's of scholar, that the mea-
sure success of rules and regulation, help determine how far some churche's bridge
out into the community. But what if the same bridge only pan out to certain people's
with Dollar for dollar faith in a God of wealth and presteige.
  The word of God tells us that the death on a tree is an atonement that reunite be-
lievers unto his Kingdom. That the light brings one from the darkside who's suffering
despair and horrow's. It will give some strength, some the knowledge that heaven is
a better place when the bridge offer's a one way road to all that know the word is my
foundation, in a world that thrive's on, "No Tomorrow's.

Copyright © John Streeter

Details | Lay Poem | |

Weeping Willow

I am the weeping willow
Inside your garden green
And I hope that you can hear me
Hear me as I scream
Into your bedroom window 
As you soundly sleep 
To that quiet thumping
Of your heart-beat

And I hope that I am with you 
To make your day feel bright
But I've gone and went so far away
To a place that won't feel right
Until I see your shining face
Shining out into the world 
Shining out to give me sight,
Because it seems so lonely here without you 
But you get me through the night
And into the morning 
Because I think you might, have
Dreamed of me last night
Dreamed I would be coming home 
To hold you close to me.

Now I miss you more than breathing
And I am writing you a song 
To help your patience wait for me 
To help you feel like you belong 
And your inside my long-lost heart.
Inside my long-lost song. 

Because I think you might, have
Dreamed of me, inside your garden green
Dreamed that I would sit and sing
In the right piano key 
To help you through your nights and days
To help you think of me.

Now that I have made it here 
I don't know why I'd ever leave
But then I'll think of how you'll smile 
When you finally see
This plan I have for the two of us 
This plan won't believe

So we'll bring along a camera
To capture of memories, 
To keep them deep inside hearts ,
To keep them in our dreams, 

And I am the weeping willow
As we float downstream
Like something from a movie
Or something from a dream.

I just want you to know that I care
That I think your perfect, 
And you'll see when we get there 
I'll bring that smile through
To see those bright eyes shine 
To see the real you.

I miss you 
And I don't think they understand
How I wish I was a child
And you my mother's hand 

And I am the weeping willow 
Inside your garden green 
That intrudes upon your loneliness
And intrudes upon your dreams

And I hope one day you'll love me 
Like a love I've never seen 
You'll intrude upon this loneliness
And intrude upon my dreams

Copyright © Levi Powell

Details | Lay Poem | |

pray for me

have no sypamthy 
or pity for my actions
but pray for me 
when i'm 
in ones life there 
are many 
for me to stand here 
with a open heart for you 
i guess your prayer 
reach god!

pray for me 
when i walk in 
to them streets
not knowing what is
waiting on me 
pray for me 
that i make something 
of this talent of mine.
pray for me 
and i'll pray 
for you each time

Copyright © frederick smith

Details | Lay Poem | |

Shadow Maiden

I see you in my heart. You pass by like a shadow.
I never fully see your face and your smile haunts me. 

I want to meet you so bad but you never stop. 
Always in motion and fleeting just enough to catch my attention 
during the moments when I am alone. 

Occasionally, you pause long enough for me to survey you
and it makes we yearn for you.

Sometimes, you let me catch you and hold you in embrace.
Our passion is so powerful it consumes us. We are perfect.

Then, when you want to go, you do, and there is nothing I can do to hold you.

I wish you would appear and meet me. I think I wouldn't feel so alone 
if you were in my life, cheering me up with just your presence. 

I would treat you with love's proper attention and a hope that would propell us to 
go even higher, into the infinite, where love is opened to it's fullest expanse. 

I desire you so much. I just wish I could catch you.
Who are you? Why do you haunt me?
I have sought you in every woman I've ever met. 
Yet, none has ever been you.

I want to stand close to you and feel our tenderness shared.
When we touch, the power of love flows through us.
It makes me hungry for you. 

I've come to realize who you represent. 
I just don't know where to find you.

Copyright © Black Hawk

Details | Lay Poem | |


It is crop time in Beantown.
The people of the City have the seeds to plant.
Their best harvest is the orange that is yellow.
Jake Castle is a great farmer.
His wife, Nefreda Maria, is one of the conservators.
Their yellow orange yields a greater harvest.

The children of Beantown are full of excitement.
They are the ones that florae.
This year is hyperactive because six years have passed. 
The yellow orange is now in vegetation.
Once picked, the seeds are replanted 
     making the next garnering even more fulfilling.

This year Jake has a plan.
He will visit Giant’s land to plant the yellow orange to grow afar.
He desires the experience of a different crop.
He knows the rich soil of Giantvillism will bring forth a larger fruitage.
This is an ultimate gain to a more endowed yield.
Therein, the next six years will culminate in both places.

Once the harvesting was completed in Beantown, 
     Jake journeys to Giant’s sphere of influence.
His bag of seeds was his gift to the Land of the Big People.
Giant of the Big People embrace Jake 
     while Maddy shouted “A hearty hello to Jake.”
Tomorrow they will scatter the seeds of the yellow orange.

Six years later…

Beantown sings as the yellow orange gleams 
     in the photosynthesis of the sun.
Every family harvested their fruit and 
     people from other realms travel to purchase the fruition.
Beantown economy flourishes.

In Giantvillism, Giant harvest was grandiose.
The yellow orange fruition was up to 
     twice the size of Beantown’s fruitage.
Jake and Nefreda along with their three children journeyed afar 
     bringing back seeds of Giant’s yellow orange to grow in Beantown.
The next six years will make all very proud.

But for now, Beantown wealth is the show stopper.
All over talks about how those people of little means
     henceforth a world of meaning.
Penned on December 30, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Lay Poem | |

Dare to dream

Dimmed and crestfallen
You object for the vices!
Your trimmed hopes
Your dampened spirits
See what has befallen you
You played the prey
You braced for the claws

In the grinding grip
An enduring grotesque 
A slew of bottlenecks
Verily the grain of misfortunes
You grew pale and sunken
Dejected and conquered
In a fairytale
'Who spelt your doom?

You object of mockery
Drop that flawless skin
That shadow you revered
Unlock that potent self
Enliven your reasons
For life is seasons
Seasons for reasons
Reasons to live for.

Copyright © Hassan Haji

Details | Lay Poem | |

Making Love A Collaboration with Eileen Manassian

Poetry: Sentiments and words making love
Sentiments: the unspoken word lingering within
Making Love: Poetry of the mind and body

A mini collaboration with Eileen Manassian

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Lay Poem | |


Somebody said Harmonica Baldwin was a smart child. That she would grow into her womanhood and set the world afire. Her characteristics inform her personality. Harmonica Baldwin is magnetic. She is perceptive and mindboggling. Within, Harmonica is alluring. She is inspired by her need to discover cures for a universe troubled. She knows her father’s Warlock Garden well and prepares her journey of healing. Harmonica Baldwin enthralls a Nymph who gives her vision. She shows her her future to come and tells Harmonica not to share this with anyone. Engross, Harmonica sees herself at the age of three where she is given the gift of love. In her visionary state, she leaves. Harmonica absorbs her purpose and is mesmerized by her metacognition. She knows her source will be Biology. Life Science becomes Harmonica's focus. She will be at the top of her class in all core subjects. Harmonica Baldwin success is a nuclei of medical science. She will become a top contributor. Her gift of love will be seen. As a spiritual healer, she has formed a source of strength and compassion. Within her father’s Warlock Garden, she thrives. She reads Tarot and captivates the mind. Diverse in her school of thought, Harmonica's neurological presence is cognitive. Harmonica Baldwin is oblique. She will become a wonderful human being. Might I share the vision of the Nymph in its idiosyncrasy? *** In the destiny of all is a vision foretold. In that, vision is a trial and a purpose. Only the holy knows if the crossing is safe. Light of the day is as dark as the night if that is what you have to face. *** I am what many say I should not be. That is an angel within humanity. I am the third child of the Baldwin’s six. My mother loves me senseless. My father tries not to dote as much but he knows as well that I am chosen by God. They name me Harmonica because I harmonize when there are problems. Many do not even know I have done such, being that I am only twelve years old. I know about my father’s Warlock world. It is a part of God’s Divine Order. My brother Fabien is supposed to be chosen by Lucifer, but that is only God in reverse. Do you know what I mean by that? Well, Lucifer Satan is the Angel God banish from Heaven. However, God’s Angels are infinity throughout eternity. This means God controls Satan’s equity and identity. Therefore, my brother Fabien will be as his Father is - a Master Warlock, and Lucifer will always be Satan. Now let me tell a little about myself. In destiny, I will achieve the presence of a Physician. I will find the cure for some dreaded disease and become renown. However, my prominence will be with Jehovah God Lord and I will speak to him via the mind. As I become older, I will gain distinction in the neurological world as a top doctor. So great I am that when I do marry, this man will not be able to be my soul mate. I will go to my father and mother for advice and they will tell me to talk to God Lord Jehovah. Within a dream, I will visit The Lord and ask for guidance. As I ascend, there stand my husband, mother, and father. Little did I know that this man was chosen for me when I was merely a toddler. Therefore, as The Lord spoke, I touched my father’s cloak and watched my mother smile and my husband told me he was a God child. That is just a glimpse in my destiny. In closure, I will leave you with my complete identity, which is Harmonica Deontia Baldwin.
Verlena S. Walker Penned on October 19, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Lay Poem | |

Dearest Heavenly Father Song on CD

Dearest Father in heaven above,
To whom all honor and glory belong,
Thank you very much for your love,
And holy spirit that keeps us strong,

We thank You for directing our way,
With support in doing Your will,
Please lead us to those gone astray,
While time allows us still,

We deeply appreciate everything,
You provide for us each day,
The kindness Your blessings bring,
Through all of Your wonderful ways,

We look to You to comfort and guide,
Us servants near and far,
Please keep Your hand open wide,
And protect us wherever we are,

Please comfort and strengthen those,
Be they sick or persecuted,
Guide us through such worldly throes,
Please keep us firmly suited,

As imperfect humans we do fall short,
Failing to measure up in many a way,
Please hear our repenting hearts exhort,
For Your forgiveness as we pray,

Thank you Dear God for everything,
You bless us with each day,
Especially for Your loving son, our King,
Jesus Christ, through whom, to You, we pray,

Copyright © Lawrence Ingle

Details | Lay Poem | |

Mastering My Life

The day was short and I was tall,
oops, got that backwards after my fall,
for I was mixed up and worried,  befuddled I say
on this brand new morning in the month of May.
I set out like a flash and look what I saw
not much as you may point and guffaw
as without my glasses I followed my assets
like a dog with a tail but with far less facets--
my nose may quiver but I sniff far less
the reason I’m off as you might obsess
is the cleanliness rule is so often boohoo
so boring and dreary, I’m afraid someone may sue
me for the dust in the corners or tiny feet
who confront me and scurry as fleet as may skeet.
Ah, there they are, hanging around my neck!
Glasses sure make the world look like heck.
You see it and flee it as bold as one may
for look, it’s quite beautiful and sunny this day.
So I quaff one diet coke and with nerves prepared
I step out to take battle on the weeds I shared
for weeks on end with the neighborhood slough.
One must give back with fulsome ado dues.
Don’t you agree? I always agree it saves need to flee!
Why do you nod and sneeze like a bee?
Ah, the weeds, yes, let me clamber down there
And pull out tufts and Beware! The dirt I must share!
How does one deal with a face full of dirt,
why wipe it and the sweat on my new clean shirt.
Why not? It shows you’re living to the limit of full
and one certainly can quit when the cull is at lull.
Yes, a bucket is enough to start this week
because groan, my knees feel done in and weak.
So I shall water the flower beds sometime
after I watch the clouds float and unwind...
Did I pay the bills? Oh, yes indeed, I think yes.
Help me out, dear, don’t let me guess.
Okay, okay, here’s the hoe, I go check...
Yawn, wow, I did too much, I must hit the deck
rest in my easy chair and button my games
turning my head I fall asleep without blame.
Until I wake with a sputter and the phone cranky
making noise so much it must be hanky panky
And so after I groan, moan, and drink another diet coke
I set down to work on whatever I remember of the bloke
who once taught me about the drinking arcade
with buzzers and blowers and hints of life with no aid
and tell his tale with not much ado or PU
because keyboard tapping is easier than the loo,
or the weeds or the awake or the find of glasses.
Yes, I suggest, give me honor of many masses
to help with my head now lonesome for pills--
I will be finishing up by making a new will.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper

Details | Lay Poem | |

The Sun

  I wait for your warm embrace

  It pierces the harden shell were I dwell

  The brilliance of your beauty draws me in

  A vision of  magnificence

  My eyes long to hold your gaze

  I wait with a heavy heart for your arrival 

  Never disappointed

  I am Captured
  My Eyes
  My Skin
  My Soul

  At Peace Once More That You Are Here~

Copyright © Ninette Carey

Details | Lay Poem | |


In world of mannequins, I step to the cause. I see this woman fussing at her child about wanting to go to the park. How formed is this. Hello Lady and such a beautiful boy he is. He wants to play in the park. However, you do not have time for that. Let me see if I can solve your problem. I am Intelligence. Intelligence is a superhero that forms very delightful scenes. I am humorous as well. With superhuman powers, I provide a child with a dream. I give this one the dream of playing in the park. The child stops crying and obeys his mother. In another episode, I am sent, telepathically, an abusive scene. I transform arriving there instantly. Through superhuman powers, I find a nurse and instruct him via mind to be compassionate. Intelligence watched for several days. The facility conformed their healthcare tactics to better ways. A little girl has broken her leg. Her mother neglects and flagellates her more when she does not feel well. Intelligence has watched for a short while. The scene was sent via the mother verbally abusing her child. Then she would stop for quite some time. However, the child broke her leg while riding her bike. The mother sees the chance to abuse outright. Intelligence deploys to her mind and the mother begins to praise the child. Intelligence is a moralistic superhero. No age or race barriers does this superhero has. In the time of hostilities, I am there. I was given my superhuman abilities to achieve peace unconditionally. ----------------------------------------------------------------------| PENNED ON AUGUST 30, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Lay Poem | |

Love Like A Candle

                             My love for you is like a candle 
                             The wick spills tears of joy for you 
                             Helping me through the darkness 
                             The light of your eyes shine on
                             Every time you flicker it’s like magic
                             Love and devotion carried me through 
                             You are sweet as  a red rose
                             With kisses and hugs I feel alive
                             Your heart pressing against mine
                              I am over the moon when you are with me
                              I cherish every moment we’re together ,
                              forever yours until the end of time.

Copyright © Nicolas Crowley

Details | Lay Poem | |

Big City Life I See You

Looking out onto to the glare off the streets, it almost appears as if the asphalt were a 

sheet of glass, as the rain pours down on the street. I see them but they hardly even 

notice me. Another cold winter has come and gone for me, life in this Big City ain’t for 

the weak. They look at me as if I was some kind of freak, as I bundle trying to keep 

warm inside my filth laden sheets…I sometimes can’t remember the last hot meal I did 

happen to eat. As I dig through a dumpster in the alley behind some old fancy 

restaurant whose name I can’t even pronounce. A fifth grade education, if even that…I 

see them, but they rarely ever see me. Lost here in the Big City this ain’t no place for a 

country born boy to be…yet I see them, but they rarely see me. My bones ache and 

sometimes I can hardly see, no refuge from the hot summer’s day heat…Look at them 

all riding around in their air conditions cars with the music blasted so loud, I see them 

but they rarely see me. Don’t pay me any mind. I ain’t mad at this old world or even 

God… just upset with myself because I let the Big City life capture me and still my 

youth. Still do what you always do when it comes to someone like me? Stare off at 

someone else and just pretend as though you don’t see me standing here, just asking 

for some help. Yes, look away…because no matter what you do? I still see you.

Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor

Details | Lay Poem | |

Plight Or Divined Flight

This is confusion at its best
One's will has been put to the test
This concerns the crossing of line
Events all do play out just fine
Consider this before you whisk
The reward is more than the risk
No matter how we scream and shout
Lacking faith always carries doubt
Feelings of love never taken
From those who have felt forsaken
The condition of heart and mind 
They really put us in a bind
Yes, true life is all about change
Though we try not to rearrange
Sometimes we try do what is right
Knowing it is well beyond sight
Whenever you feel the wind blow
Try to understand this and know
No matter how we scream and shout
Lacking faith always carries doubt
Feelings of love never taken
From those who have felt forsaken
Baby eagle steps off the cliff
Spread your wings sweet baby for lift
Soar the heavens way up above
Along side his heavenly dove
No matter how we scream and shout
Lacking faith always carries doubt
Feelings of love never taken
From those who have felt forsaken
Remember the climb of trunk slow
For those of you whom in the know
Again the spreading of wings
Sailing upon wind as though sings
No matter how we scream and shout
Lacking faith always carries doubt
Feelings of love never taken
From those who have felt forsaken

Copyright © Steven Henderson

Details | Lay Poem | |

Last Man Standing Again and Again

Those left sitting there will be none
See the call to stand has begun
Across the globe people ask why
There are so many who must die
Arising from said, prostration
They act without hesitation
Not learning from their past
Upon the vast fields of grass 
Are all those who go off the path
They fall until the very last
Cry freedom is to liberate
Unjust it is to subjugate 
Equally both used in jolly
Yet be the cause of their folly
Causes will be undertaken
Claiming it is for the forsaken
Not learning from their past
Upon the vast fields of grass 
Are all those who go off the path
They fall until the very last
Who can claim to be unaware?
The response is you did not care
Regardless of where one may stray
All feel the affects of this spray
Being not told was part of the plan
They look for those to extend hand
Not learning from their past
Upon the vast fields of grass 
Are all those who go off the path
They fall until the very last
Goal at end it is to dominate
The last man will pontificate
For if it is for I to be
Then my will shall always be free
Mind you this story has been told
Yet again it shall soon unfold
Not learning from their past
Upon the vast fields of grass 
Are all those who go off the path
They fall until the very last

Copyright © Steven Henderson

Details | Lay Poem | |

A wolf story

The journey was rough, the road was long
Her withered face radiated, turned in song
Still she fought, her faith was strong
She had no power, but she knew they were wrong

She turned her face towards the breeze
She heard them shout, she didn’t dare to breathe
Opening her mind, she sent a silent message to the sky
Please, dear god, don’t let me die

Before they reached, her creaky tree
Something made them turn and flee
Climbing out to have a peak
No hero, no human did she seek 

But on the waters edge she heard a growl
A lone wolf was on the prowl
Thank you, she whispered bowing to the ground
But the wolf if it heard, gave no sound

Off it stalked, in between the winding tree
No one she told, no one would believe
Everyday she would thank the grace,
For her saviour with a different face.

Copyright © Crystal Wilkins

Details | Lay Poem | |

Never Finding Peace

Their search be never ending
Emotions constantly bending
Not mindful of one's health each day
Using it as a price to pay
Their intent is to make you slaves
Until they drive you to your graves
Many are like rats in a maze
All walking around in a daze
They are fighting amongst themselves
Because they do know themselves
Driving desire be the land
And to use the resource there man
Mantaining them in illusion
Secretly their control moves in
Tactics are more than ordinary
A song sang by the Canaries
Many are like rats in a maze
All walking around in a daze
They are fighting amongst themselves
Because they do know themselves
Others are slaughter by thousands
Numbers grow by tens of thousands
A leader's false belief in peace
Or fundamental change unleashed
See those who enter over there
That path they go ends to no where
Many are like rats in a maze
All walking around in a daze
They are fighting amongst thmeselves
Because they do know themselves
Consider this a last warning
Better said be a forewarning
The balance of scales will soon tip
This is when all will start to trip
Cause once there was a rat named Ben
Who once had been a friend to men
Many are like rats in a maze
All walking around in a daze
They are fighting amongst thmeselves
Because they do know themselves

Copyright © Steven Henderson

Details | Lay Poem | |

My ghetto (What makes it so?)

Ghettos simply defined but true…a place where society’s worse of the worst 

seem to reside, a place were the way where’d people tend to thrive…a place 

where the maddest of people come from and a place where no one cares about 

who lives or dies. A place where broken glass can be found on every street and 

is considered as the norm instead of as an eye sore or as a disgrace…a place 

with dilapidated buildings that people sometimes refer to as the slums…or 

cribs, a place where no decent person would want to live. All though this be sad 

and some of it even may be true…I contend that a place is only a ghetto when 

no blade of grass will grow, when no flower can be found to be in bloom…when 

the decent people who live there let crab grass grow and the bad people 

outweigh the goodness of the decent people who do live there and just want to 

call it home. So, you tired and sick of my ghetto and you need to get out? 

Then become a decent neighbor and we can eradicate the name ghetto and 

rename it a great place were all can live and each of us can say this place I 

shall now call it my happy home.

Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor

Details | Lay Poem | |

The Fragile Egg...

Sitting here in this room, it seems as if it somehow shifts and moves? It makes me tremble 

and shake…as I naw on what little nails I have left, in an errant attempt to calm down my 

razor thin nerves. Reflecting back on my ride home on the bus, those other kids they never 

seem to stop chattering and laughing at me…I know that their all talking about me. I press 

my face so hard against that bus window, I know when I got off you could still see my face 

print and could count each of those ugly pimples that cover my face. Mom say it’s just an 

awkward stage in a preteens life and that it will pass…But Mom and Dad are not the ones 

who are biting their nails, an shaking like leaf at the very thought of having to go back to 

school the next day and there not the one’s with a face that look like it’s a part of a bumpy 

old rollercoaster ride. I’m no different than those other kids, I just want to be like and be the 

best me I can be in this life…instead , I sit around just like a fragile egg dangling on the edge 

of the kitchen counter top, just waiting to fall and break.  I should be out having fun but I 

just sit here in my room on the edge of my bed crying on the verge of a nervous breakdown 

with my dad’s old Saturday night special gun clenched tightly in my sweaty palm.

Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor