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Nicholas Hollingsworth Poem
Me?
I'm two hundred and sixty pounds of fat
muscle and bone.
ligaments and nerves.
emotions and freewill.
six feet and three inches
of longing
and of hope
that is bound to be lost
I alone am no hero.
but then again,
alone,
none of us are.
solitude brings out the strength
in only the mad
the frantic
the hopeless
and the dead.
strength lies not in
the whispers of the dead.
is there an after-life?
is there a god?
a heaven?
a devil?
a hell?
a nirvana?
a sanctuary in the clouds; the earth?
i could die on the streets,
as many are
leave no impression on anyone
where is god then?
millions die.
where is god now?
so many christians;
yet so few are christ-like.
i see the hypocritical
the sad
the greedy
the desperate
the mad.
I am one that longs
for love
yet at the same time
i absolutely love the feeling of being sad
above all other emotions.
a rainy city,
overcast and chilly everyday
of every month
of every year.
an apartment,
on the top floor.
my future self
staring out of the window
with a glass of scotch
a teenage alcoholic turned pseudo-celebrity.
my job being listless and endless,
just as my life.
long and un-happy.
this is not what i portray in my life
to my friends
to my love
to my family
they know nothing,
only suspecting.
And yet here i am,
climbing the ladder to a happy little life.
secretly longing for what so many scorn.
loneliness is my blanket and my secure little life is my pillow.
teenage alcoholic turned pseudo-celebrity.
Copyright © Nicholas Hollingsworth | Year Posted 2010
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Nicholas Hollingsworth Poem
This world we have created-
neatly sown earth ripe for the planting.
This world had been perfect-
silent creeks and boisterous waterfalls.
This land that was once Mother Nature's-
destroyed for some superfluous coffee shop
where liars and womanizers lay in wait.
These words from our mouths-
are a right given to us by "Law;"
are they not going to be spoken without such written privilege?
False worshippers-
i speak not of a religion, but of the followers.
hoping living in the shadow of their God is a ticket to life after death.
This world we have created-
it saddens me.
These lives we now lead-
frivolous and jocund.
Greed-
it runs our lives now.
Monetary value is the way the world earns its keep.
A higher being or a mere fraction off a fraction of a chance has given us this Earth.
Someone gave us a mold, and we said "To Hell with it!"
They won't even own up to the actions they've taken.
Neither will I.
A white sheep in a herd of white sheep.
Who am I to call out a mistake?
This world we have created-
it saddens me so;
but if one should ask if i've taken affirmative action,
the answer shall be "No."
Copyright © Nicholas Hollingsworth | Year Posted 2010
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Nicholas Hollingsworth Poem
She's taking me, honey. She's taking me...
I saw her in the hall.
This odd glow was about her.
That girl, she seemed so small.
She's taking me, honey. She's taking me...
But my love, please do not fret.
To my grave, she leads me now.
Tonight, I pay death's debt.
The life I lead was happy and long.
That much, you can rest assured.
This dainty little girl, her hand guides me tonight;
My end has been secured.
Those days of summer, in '67;
Yes, those days have gone and past.
Staring into the stars above,
Those memories will always last.
When i knelt down on one knee,
The mood of love was set.
The ring on your finger still shines tonight.
Please lover, don't get upset.
Death's embrace has taken me.
Oh yes, this much is true.
But one thing Death cannot take,
are the memories of me and you.
Copyright © Nicholas Hollingsworth | Year Posted 2010
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Nicholas Hollingsworth Poem
And underneath my bed, in the corner where we would lay for hours
with your head on my chest
with your breath berating my skin
where we would talk about all the things to come
and where we had shared our first kiss
where i lay by myself, worried while your father was sick, as you were crying softly on
the edge
where we made fun of Jersey Shore
where we perfected our fake Irish accents
where my parents walked in and told us to “Play Uno with us, homie.” on a drunken New
Year’s eve.
Where Christmas morning I gave you your present.
Where i spread out your Valentines gifts for you to walk in on
Where we agreed that we were each others’ “One.”
That spot on the bed where my heart was always beating 10x faster.
I was cleaning, and came across your hairband.
And as i held it, i remembered how you lost it, and i stole my sister’s for you.
And it hit me like a truck.
The hairband burned my skin like acid.
You changed.
You’re different.
But I don’t think my feelings are, just yet.
So today I cried for the first time since I left Hawaii.
I cried hard, and i lost my breath.
I called your name and asked for help.
But it doesn’t matter, because it’s my fault anyway.
Copyright © Nicholas Hollingsworth | Year Posted 2011
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Nicholas Hollingsworth Poem
I absolutely hate myself
for all of the things I've done
It's hard to ask for forgiveness
when I break your heart and run
I want to cry, I want it bad
But truth be told I can't.
I want to feel alive again
Breathlessly, though I pant.
The tears won't come, the drugs don't work
elixirs and potions won't sooth
nothing will ever compare to the love
I felt when wrapped up in you.
Copyright © Nicholas Hollingsworth | Year Posted 2011
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