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Quatrain Angst Poems | Quatrain Poems About Angst

These Quatrain Angst poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Angst. These are the best examples of Quatrain Angst poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain |

My Torment

A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun

Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion

The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me

And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul

And then that familiar salty smell 
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things

Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts

And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher

Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror

There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same

Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |

Middle Aged White Guy

Middle Aged White Guy

How do I shed the label
of a white oppressive man
Do I listen to the message
of Obama's "Yes we can!"
Perhaps I'll go out marching 
With women take to the streets
Hold placards of "Black Lives Matter"
While trying to feel their pained heart beats

Still I wonder should I feel guilty
for horrible things my race has done
Or would it not be better
If I instead loved everyone
My friends are many religions
Jewish, Muslim, Christian Too
I've conversed with Jehovah witnesses 
if you are Sikh I can learn from you

I'm unconcerned with color
or the kind of clothes you wear
I'm more interested in your story
and the heart you're willing to share
Don't see me as an enemy
Just because my skin is white
Understanding will replace our fear
Conversations can make things right

No one wants to be looked at
through the lens of a clouded eye
If you and I are both willing
a different logic will apply
In the end we are brothers and sisters 
there is but one human race
Each person wants a sense of belonging 
It's up to us to create that space.

Written By Richard Lamoureux, January 31, 2017

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |


I saw Nazis march yesterday
upon the streets of Charlottesville.
And with swastikas on display
they spewed hate, they tried to instill.

I saw Satan grinning with pride
at racial slurs shouted in hate.
And bigots proudly by his side
let the violence escalate.

I saw torches light up the night
snaking through the black neighborhoods.
And skinheads ready for a fight,
all they were missing were white hoods.
I saw white supremacists proud
of drawing blood and spreading fear.
And a car plow into the crowd,
its intentions perfectly clear.

I saw President Trump place blame  
on both sides, for this killing spree. 
And a shocked nation reel in shame
at how callous he seemed to be.

I saw what might be the end of
tolerance and democracy.
For mantras of hate replaced love
with smugness and hypocrisy.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

Unrequited Love

Unrequited love, is the
forbidden fruit of the heart.
And, if you long for its taste,
the pain can tear you apart.

What was never meant to be,
drains, dying dreams of magic.
And like a moth, to a flame,
the results, can be tragic.

Under a veil, of false smiles,
you try, to hold back your tears.
And yet, hope’s mired in despair,
where it has languished, for years.

Doubt, loneliness and fear, form
a gauntlet of emotions.
And you’re constantly crying
enough tears, to fill oceans.

You suckle reality,
upon the bosom of night.
For fantasies, morph into
memories, at dawn’s first light.

Sequestered within your heart,
love, has brought you to your knees.
Yet, in the land of pretend, 
you get to do, what you please.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Mystic Tinklings

                   Mystic Tinklings

Mystic tinklings
	Ancient echoes from the past
Fleeting inklings
	Glimmer just beyond your grasp

Phantom footfalls
	When you know that you’re alone
Echoed choircalls
	Of a long forgotten song

Shadows slipway
	From the corners of your eye
Darkened hallways
	Hints of time passed by

Brief reflections
	Of things you did not see
Vast collections
	Of the things that used to be

Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quatrain |

Miss Communication

There once was, a Miss. Communication
With pleasure she loved to communicate
Writing of love and the wonders of life
Her passion extreme and never sedate

Those afraid, of Miss. Communication 
For she expressed herself with all her might
They banded together, to make their point
Miss Took, Mr. E and yes Mr. Right

Sadly the Kingdom, fell into darkness
For not a single note flowed from her throne
The sound of her music, could not be heard
Miss Communication sad and alone

So the town people, gathered together
Including, one who was Miss. Understood
We looked to her, in hopes of an answer
As she strummed on her harp made out of wood

Miss. Communication, rose to the call
For in the end she knew they were all friends
Because with passion, sometimes lines are crossed
Miss. Communication, never pretends

She felt real joy and her pen regained strength 
Entering again, into the land of dreams
For within, our miscommunications.
It's true, nothing is ever as it seems!

Events of the last few days have left me feeling sad.
Things said that have left people I care about hurt.
Misunderstood people on different sides that are 
really in the end not so different from each other.
Reconciliation comes from listening, in the end
each of us is looking for a place to belong and be
appreciated. Let us choose to act with gentle hearts
and kind words. Being loving is a greater cause than
being right. 

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

In A Perfect World

If we lived, in a perfect world,
happiness and love, would abound.
And in this utopic, dreamworld,
there would be no hurt, to be found.

Peace and brotherhood, would flourish, 
in, an idealistic dream.
And we would help, nature nourish, 
every ocean, river and stream. 

We would all, live in paradise,
a virtual, heaven on Earth.
And from orchids, to edelweiss,
flowers, would encircle Earth's girth.

All diseases, would disappear,
and no one, would die of hunger.
And there would be less, fears and tears,
for we’d live forever, younger.

But alas, it isn't that way,
disease and cruelty, exist.
And starvation, is here to stay,
while warfare and famine, persist.
Written Feb. 9th , 2016 

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

The Wedding Ring

I've heard the music a smile secretly sings
And the sudden thunder a teardrop brings
No beginning or ending round a golden wedding ring
Together love and time keep on turning

It takes but one breath to keep on living
When your dreams and sorrows become the same thing
Empty eyes open there for the forgiving
Then memories invade, night becomes morning

Like the ring we wear, no beginning or end
We search to see where this journey shall send
Apart we are halfed neither night or day
Where nothing can grow, shall it be that way?

©Donna Jones

Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

Titanic Forever

My father had been out of work for way too long.
At night, I often heard him and mom weep
Food was scant, but love was strong. 
As was that hunger pain when I lay to sleep.

My little brother was too young to understand.
Still a babe in arms, he brought our only smiles.
I loved to play with him and hold his tiny hand.
It seemed to take away the hurt from life trials.

Then, one-day dad came home all excited.
He was talking so fast, grinning from ear to ear.
He said that our future was well fated.
That we were in for adventure was clear.

It was that new ocean liner, the Titanic. 
Dad had been hired for the maiden voyage.
We were going along as his sidekick.
A family destined for American homage.

In just five days we boarded that ship.
Immigrating was a dream come true.
Accommodations would be a hardship.
But it was worth opportunities…new.

Dad worked as a scullion in the restaurant.
We were housed on the lower deck.
It was a very crowded lodgment.
We stayed together until the shipwreck.

Sirens were screeching people screaming.
We could not find dad anywhere.
Was he locked up as a cageling?
Could it be true; was he trapped down there?

Lifeboats were being lowered.
Mom held my brother, crying.
Dad must be somewhere cloistered.
We all feared a dreadful dying.

Someone put me in a lifeboat.
I reached for mom as it descended.
The Titanic was still afloat.
But my family separated.

The water was freezing.
I had forgotten my coat.
People crying, sniffling, and sneezing.
The lifeboat soon became an iceboat.

Within a few hours, death began.
Shivering, I crawled beneath two corpses.
A young girl destined to live without her clan.
Hidden from polar breezes.

That was the last time I saw my mother.
My mind holds the image clearly.
She, calling for dad, was cuddling brother.
Oh, how I loved my family dearly.

When rescuers finally arrived.
I was the only one alive in the lifeboat.
Beneath those bodies, I survived.
Then, I was wrapped in a warm coat.

I never did see America.
I was sent to an orphanage back home.
Life had dealt a great trauma.
Forever had sunken in the ocean's foam.

© April 9, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest:  My heart will go on and on.... Free Poetry 
Sponsor	Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

Beauty and BigFoot

Beauty and BigFoot By thirteen I was quite tall— Five-foot seven—friends were small Always tallest in my class On school lines—was always last. Friends were shorter, more petite Always looked to size-up feet Compare shoes, I do not fib Was self-conscious—mine were big. Their size five to seven, fine— I was BigFoot! Mine was nine! Teenage complex anguished me BigFoot phobia, you see! Later friends caught up with me Height and feet grew handily Soon size nine in grownup form Looked upon as kind of norm. Thinking back on “BigFoot” years To fit in, drove me to tears! Teenage stresses to compete— Happy now with normal feet! © Sandra M. Haight 2015 All Rights Reserved ~3rd Place Contest: BigFoot Judged: 05/07/2015

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Average Age 19

Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for

Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain

Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin

I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail

Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled

Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss

How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run

I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance

James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |

The Welfare Poem

The welfare poem is not for you
and not enough for anyone.
The welfare poem is very small
and not just given to everyone.

It's not enough to read for long.
It's just a little short.
It's not paid much attention to
and not the longing sort.

With thanks there's those who'll get it.
Those of who deserve it.
It's just some stolen words,
though I would soon forget it.

It's filled with much disgrace.
Those wary as they read.
It may be meant for you
if you accept the need.

I hope you have enjoyed it.
I'll cut you off for now.
But if you want more later
just beg there's more somehow.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

Don't Look Back Track

You played your pipe for me to dance,
as puppet master, worked the strings,
but today my heart will pirouette;
I am giving back the gold nose ring.

Last night I saw just how it is
Between yourself and naive me;
you are the wolf, I am the lamb
always destroyed  in repartee.

You think I cannot live alone
without your condescending reign;
you won't hear Arrivederci play,
I won't come back to Rome again.

This love train has left the station;
It is speeding down "don't look back track."
Goodbye to disappointing love; 
I'm moving on to be exact.

Copyright, September 6, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

Be As Before

When rejection eludes understanding,
anxiety places love on trial. 
And though it hurts, you plead for one more chance,
extrapolating hope from denial.

When your heart is pierced by nagging doubts, 
it's like sharp splinters that undermine trust. 
And lies built on fleeting shadows of joy, 
leave you drifting between love and disgust.

Total truth’s a prerequisite for love,
if it is to have any chance at all. 
For shackled to an inflated ego, 
passion only intensifies your fall.

Reality tends to just disappear,
isolated in your fanciful dreams.
And depression becomes love’s nemesis,
orchestrating psychological schemes.

Decaying dreams morph into frustration,
resulting in an inward migration. 
And walling off your heart you improvise,
courting demons of your own creation.

As falling tears threaten to drown your soul,
happiness quickly slips away once more.
And you beseech God's help to turn back time,
so that everything can be as before.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |



To stand you anymore
my head will burst
you're rotten to the core 
and maybe even worst

My eyes are closed
I can't stand your sight
just get out and leave
before we start to fight

What you are inside
is a true disgrace
but you hide it all
behind that face

To people and folks
you seem innocent
but to me you are
so crooked and bent

Just go away
I can't stand your sight
move from here
before we start to fight.

Copyright © Maryam Jameela Haniff | Year Posted 2009

Details | Quatrain |

Day After Day

Why do you do, hurtful things,
acting, like a soul possessed?
And, try to resurrect fears,
time, has long ago repressed.

You can’t relate, to pity,
for bullies, exploit the meek.
And, it feels good to demean 
those, who turn the other cheek.

I see a heart, that’s hurting,
using drugs, to numb the pain.
And, a sore loser in life,
treating winners, with disdain. 

Shame, has no meaning in hell,
you do, whatever feels right.
Yet, guilt gnaws at your insides,
and, part of you dies each night.

You stand, ready to attack,
pushing those who care, away.
And, uttering threats of death,
you pull back, day after day.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Pit Of Despair

At times, life can seem unfair,
as your heart loses all hope.
And, from a pit of despair,
you struggle, merely to cope.

Love, is an elusive dream,
interlaced, with nightmare thoughts.
And anxiety's extreme,
tying your stomach in knots.

You try to rewind life's tape,
but you find, it's stuck on pause.
And, there's no way to escape
the suffering, or its cause.

Abuse, morphs into self-hate,
guiding the knife, on its path.
And admonishing your fate,
you let its blade, purge your wrath.

Every cut, exacts a toll,
unleashing a scarlet flood.
And yet, the pain in your soul
is numbed, by the flow of blood.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Find My Way

Darkness is killing my will to fight
The way to climb beyond my scope
Searching for a ray of light
In an oasis called hope

Feel like a stranger in my house
Drying inward from the edge
Climbing like a spider
Got stuck in my own web

The clouds in the sky
Add to my tears
The balloons in my hand
Do not bring me cheers

Nothing to push me down from here
I can only jump without fear
I break the balloons, I dare the rain
I splash in my web full of my tears

Here I come, you can push me away
I will find my way to dodge you away
Not everytime can I go astray 
A day will come I will find my way

Copyright © Suresh Iyer | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quatrain |

I Stand Here

I stand here and watch the changing of seasons,
a summer of winters, an autumn of springs,
I stand here in thought, not knowing the reasons,
to the meaning of life, how the caged bird still sings.
I stand here and watch as the years pass me by,
regrets of my past, what my life might have been,
I stand here and muse over one butterfly,
freed from the prison it had put itself in.

I stand here and watch as the dark turns to day,
the first glimpse of sunrise, a shimmer of light,
I stand here and wonder where clouds go to play
would they take me with them when day turns to night?

I stand here on guard while my inner self dreams,
of a world free of hurting, a life blank of stain,
I stand here and listen while my inner self screams,
with fear in his eyes and a soul filled with pain.
I stand here alone, memories by my side,
a flood of emotions, bittersweet in my mind,
I stand here unknown with the tears I have cried,
searching for answers in a world where I'm blind.

Copyright © Curt Mongold | Year Posted 2008

Details | Quatrain |

A Pegasus's Broken Wings

A poor Pegasus dreams
Of soaring freely in the sky
And to graze on the mountains
With her friends, she would fly.

She awakes with a stutter
Each and every day of her life
Hoping to soar free
As each dream becomes a lie.

She gallops through the meadow
As she tries to take flight
But she falls every time
Wings like a withered kite.

When duty comes and calls
Her friends soar off the cliff
The the poor Pegasus cries
For she shares no part of the myth.

Her hoof's thunder away
As she gallops with all her might
Her wings try one last time
Only to fall out of sight

Each day she weeps alone
As her friend leaps and sings
For poor Pegasus can never fly
With her withered, broken wings.

Copyright © Catherine Adams | Year Posted 2009

Details | Quatrain |

Fragmented Fantasies

Crushed, under the hand of fate,
misery, shadows my day.
For, I looked into your eyes,
and saw hope, crumbling away.

Fragmented fantasies, morphed
into long forgotten fears.
And dreams, began to flounder,
in a sea of fallen tears.

When feelings, felt out of place,
suspicions, began to rise.
And yet, ignoring the truth,
I closed my eyes, to your lies.

Now, you’ve abandoned me,
and my world’s, falling apart.
For, I don’t know what to do,
or even worse, where to start.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Drenched In Tears

I recall, the kerfuffles
we had, when we shared a bed.
And the ever-present screams,
that echoed within my head.

Each confrontation, festered
inside of my heart and soul.
And amidst the arguing,
depression, levied its toll.

I pace the floor, late at night,
unable to sleep or rest.
For I can hear each heartbeat,
as it pounds, within my chest.

The hurt of your betrayal,
has torn my whole world apart.
And I haven't stopped crying,
since you crushed my fragile heart.

My pillow, is drenched with tears,
yet, I still weep for your touch.
And I cannot forget you,
because, I love you so much.

You left me, without a word,
and yet, I pray you’ll come back.
For I’m feeling all alone,
and the night's shrouded in black.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Princess Ballerina

Princess ballerina
Comfortably numb
Hidden from the world
Holding angels ransom
Princess ballerina
With ivory inked thighs
Legs swallowing purity
Prying pink eyes
Princess ballerina
With sin studded threats
Slicing delicacy
With pierced pirouettes 
Princess ballerina
Leering from afar
Come out of the corner
My jaded sultry star

Copyright © Xavier Keough | Year Posted 2006

Details | Quatrain |


Why can't she learn to do that right?
You'd think that she'd know better.
Someone should tell her what to do,
To hone her each endeaver.

What is he doing over there?
He should be over here.
He should be told where he belongs,
And make it very clear.

She never does as she is told,
Although I've tried and tried;
What she should do and how and when,
I took it all in stride.

I spoke to her, I spoke to them,
To bring her back in line;
But she is stubborn, wants her way,
But she will learn in time,

That I am right and she is wrong,
I'll teach her that I know,
Much more about her work than she,
I'll tell her where to go.

It seems my help and good advice,
Is just ignored and spurned.
I only want the best for all,
The best for all concerned.

I guess my help's unwanted,
But if 'twere put to test,
They all would see that I am right,
And my way is the best.

No matter where you go or what you do you're going to find some people in the world who think they know more about eveything than anyone else and they will do their best to force their opinion on everyone they come in contact with. Th ebest way to handle someone like this is to give them a wide berth. Stay aloof but friendly in a distant sort of way. However, don't hesitate to let them know you cannot and will not be bulllied because this type of person capitalizes on your weakness. Whenever they start something with you it's important to make sure everyone knows exactly what was said and done when it happens so you don't end up looking the fool instead of them. When they find out that instead of keeping quiet you will fight back using their own methods against them they will back off and leave you alone.

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011

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It Doesn't Help To Cry

You're confined, to a bed
with a sweaty smell.
And, there are no windows,
as far as you can tell.

Food, spilt on your covers,
gathers flies to your plate.
And you find yourself, in
a vulnerable state.

The radio’s broken,
yet, there’s no books to read.
And you can't get a nurse,
no matter how you plead.

Geriatric nightmares,
await you in this place.
And you feel forgotten,
as the years slow their pace.

You know that you’ll be here,
until the day you die.
And yet, you hold your tears,
it doesn't help to cry.

Secluded in shadows,
you long to feel the sun.
And pray death will soon come,
so your time here, is done.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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FREE CEE nursery crimes

there once was a time of simple pleasures
like hop-scotch, marbles and electric trains
hop-scotch turnd into scotch on the rocks
when i got drunk enough to realize what adulthood ordains

childhood led to my becoming a hood
i held a lot of adoration for adolescence
my youth was an era of hopes and dreams
and faith formed of fact was at its essence

stealing kisses in the kitchen became blatant thievery
i played spin the bottle until i spun out of control
jumping rope landed me at the end of my rope
and sin seeped deep into my soul

I recall when nursery rhymes first became rhetoric
And when reality dashed the dreams to which I once clung
Now, at sixty four, I have only one regret
And that is the fact that I didn’t die young
 © 2012  copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~

Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |


In the darkening room I stood:
tears welling in my eyes:
by the windowed-wall, looking out,
my small chest full of sighs.

Headlights bright white and tail lights red,
paired, meandered down the street,
yet the white headlights that I sought
seemed only to retreat.

Cold, calm, singular, tear drops fell,
soon reaching down turned lips;
as in the house across the street,
the living room was lit.

A Father held his baby high. 
He hugged that toddler tight.
I wiped the corner of my eye,
and gazed into the night.

Above the darkened woodland near,
beneath a cobalt sky;
the highway brought their Fathers home.
alone again stood I.

Horns blared out in drives near by
sweet laughter filled the air,
and, in the drive across the street,
their Fathers did appear.

The children ran out slamming doors,
on small unshodden feet,
with tiny squeals, and upturned cheeks,
their Father they did greet.

Where was the father who I sought
our lives incomplete
a traveling man, my Father
did nothing but retreat.

*A memory from when I was 8.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2008

Details | Quatrain |


Confronting fragile feelings within, 
pain, will inevitably begin.
For, pride rebuffs attempts to amend
the sins, you still stubbornly defend.

In a world, of shakers and takers,
trickery, breeds liars and fakers. 
And a fledgling spirit, clipped of wings, 
attracts trouble, and the tears it brings.

Nagging doubts, fill your heart with despair, 
letting uncertainty, foul the air.
For somehow, you are not like the rest,
you study love, yet fail every test.

Riddled, with flattery and deceit, 
fond memories, can be bittersweet.
And, blind to the jealousy you bear,
you contort the truth, beyond repair.

Fears, festering in shadow and dream,
constantly prey, on low self-esteem.
For in truth, there’s nothing more tragic
than a heart, bereft of love’s magic.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Laid To Waste

A fledgling heart's, plagued by deceit,
infected, by lies designed to please.
For sincerity's, a delusion,
and intimacy, is but a tease.

Doubt fosters, currents of disbelief,
casting trust adrift, in unsafe realms.
And, the anguish of a broken heart,
mimics the wind, crying in the elms.

Dreamers, sugarcoat reality,
trying to dilute, its bitter taste.
Yet, when happiness begs compromise,
youth’s illusions, are soon laid to waste.

Riddled with feelings, of incomplete,
your yesterdays, unwind and replay.
And, inhibitions begin to fade,
facing feelings, you once put away.

You sift memories, for signs of truth,
having lost it, somewhere in the past.
And allow fantasies, to reshape,
till the heartaches, slip away at last.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |


Swimming through the raven depths—
darkness envelopes me in his cold embrace—
searching for what may never come,
and feel a hand upon my face.

I reach, scared it might be you,
and terrified it’s not.
It’s no one: I’m alone again,
in the place that you forgot.

You say distance is you’re only friend,
I’m struggling and sure you see.
Don’t understand this game you play:
leave me searching for eternity.

I see you not, but I feel you:
sense you’re watching, but you’re not.
Difficult now, treading in circles;
I need air, but you forgot.

I fear I need to give up soon,
my limbs become so numb.
Eyes heavy, compressed by fear,
to the oceans prowess I’ll succumb.

You were my every waking breath,
and my every golden dream,
now you’re nowhere, yet always somewhere,
bubbles muffling my scream.

My eyes are slowly closing,
tide drags me to the abyss,
until I’m nowhere, maybe somewhere,
saved by Raven’s deadly kiss.

9th August 2016 

Copyright © Nicola Byrne | Year Posted 2016