Because I'm Ready To Grow Up
I have had enough
Enough with the happy times
I'm ready to take on the stress
No more playground or bubbles baths please
Enough with the piles and piles of mess
I'm grown up now ready for change
I had it with being a baby bird
I don't want to be fed I don't want to cry
I want to get out of the nest, spread my wings
I want to take flight in the sky so high
I had enough of the princess dresses
Get rid of those Barbie dolls
Throw away all those plastic high heels
And bring on the teenage texting of Lols
Don't u get it I've had enough
I'm ready to grow up to break out of the shell
I'm prepared to take on life's earthquakes
Waiting for the day when I'll have stories to tell
Princesses and fairies will never be real
There is nothing in the world that's free
You don't magically have a happy ending
All i can be in life is me
So I'm ready to grow up
To escape the magical world
For you have to earn whatever you want
Nothing comes in a pink sparkly twirl
So I've had enough
Rip my childhood apart
I'm happy to face the impending future
drown the happy memories in my heart
Copyright © Sapphire Williams | Year Posted 2013
Eyes of Seminary – Zamreen Zarook
Every day in our lives has different fragrance,
God give us various things in abundance,
Day by day knowledge is gained in accordance,
Things depend according to the attendance.
Two years of studies,
Helped us to come out with various abilities,
Extremely joyful moments with buddies,
But life said every aspect has its boundaries.
Teachers become very friendly,
They approach us very kindly,
They speak on us exaggeratedly,
Because they know, if not we might behave badly.
Big shots in the school boundary,
These are years of foundry,
It helped us to find and go for laundry,
Marvelous days, fully packed with sundry.
Various angles the kith and kins are civilized,
It’s because our knowledge is enhanced,
Guys and girls turned well experienced,
That’s why we call it levels of advanced.
Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013
In this town of night, it's lit by a light,
The sound of a loud, creaking gear and a wheel,
It echoed as I walked.
But do I have an address?
I cannot walk very well, my leg will not heal.
Why was I born into this world?
Why is my heart silver instead of gold?
I remember that person say "You are a special doll,"
Dancing and singing as he praised me over and over.
Even now, I sing always,
He will not open his eyes,
And sing about a sky of azure.
Why did I come to this Earth?
I'll only sing for eternity, waiting for rebirth.
Someday I'll sleep,
Then go to where that person is.
But my wish does not come true,
I sing, live,
And break in a red hue.
Time passes, and I even forget songs,
I hurry to that place he sleeps.
While I drag my cracked body,
Drying my eye as it weeps.
To the place where flowers connect the ocean,
Now, I'll rest my weary head.
With that person.
My wish will come true,
"It was fine, you lived once."
I heard that person's voice,
It was nearby.
"Give me a chance!"
In my dreams, I heard the voice many times,
It resounds in my aching heart.
A peaceful light,
But I smile.
Copyright © Frisk Carris | Year Posted 2014
You send bolts through my skin
something I was never to
accomplish with you, when I
saw you it's like my heart sank
to my stomach and I was in
shock my body still my body
heavy felt like when I moved I
was about to fall to my knees
you make me want to get
inside my brain pick you up and
take you out pick you one by
one like a flower because I do
love you and love you not.
Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013
Speech of Tears – Zamreen Zarook
Drops of tears from our purl conveys a lot,
Each an every shedding has a ballot,
By identifying the core, our hands should allot,
Because, some might be extremely as shallot.
Chipper and blissfulness gives you cool tears,
Whereas in console and divesting flow hot tears,
Fear and pains give drains of tears,
Nothing that can be patch with dollars.
Some deliveries are automatic,
While some productions are acoustic,
Another drain says I am really bombastic,
Tears are at last solely cubistic.
They convey the emotions,
People go in search for solutions,
They become happy when they are with the precautions,
Reactions again as the tears, it’s the real abbreviation.
Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013
Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.
The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.
"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.
Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.
The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.
Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
I rend asunder and
Crumble into dust
Before my very eyes.
No answers forthcoming
To my many questions,
Most important, "Why?"
"A fool are you,"
I stand thinking.
"There is no disguise."
To worry so about
What matters not
In the by and by.
Trials have strengthened.
Sorrows kept me human.
No point to analyze.
"Life is for living,"
An ultimate truth
I finally realized.
Sooner than later
Might have been better,
Had only I been wise.
I rend asunder and
Crumble into dust....
A twinkle in my eye.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
i could sit here. day in and day out
thinking of the most proper way
to let the ink in the pen spill out
but as of late im feeling prehistoric
so much weight on my shoulders
and i dont know where to go
resuscitate my soul
look back up and head to the goal
so much evil around. i feel like the devils workin double shifts just to bring me down.
on the road to redemption
you can take a seat up in the front section
just so you can feel the emotions
in this electric notion
i've done a lot of things that hide the halo
let it all collaborate when i medicate
now look at me, mind workin like plato
formulate a new path to take so i can
maneuver through all the mistakes
we all know we cant change what we've already made
but we can change the next thing we create
startin to sound like a serenity prayer
5 steps till im thirty
and the twenty four before i was never a player
found out when the lights came back on im strictly a lover
its the strongest drink for your soul, when its thirsty
so careful how much you intake or be left hungover
even worse be the one she ran over
i dont mean to come off like im too deep
but the obstacles made there way through just to scrape through
and leave me suffocating
just for me to re-invent a new way to breathe, re-decorating
is your life so complicated
you rather wet up your pillows and revoke from the life you live
just think of your kids mourning
theyll never see that pretty face in the morning any more
cheer your self up
you got a lot to live for
your a gem and im that friend
trynna appraise the value
that you dont see inside of you
just another day for him
searchin wonderin what his purpose is
running in circles
till he found a way through all the turbulence
Copyright © pat roswell | Year Posted 2013
When I think of the times in therapy that I spent with Lenny, they weren't that of a therapist to a patient. They were more of daughter to father or daughter to grandfather. Like every teacher has their favorite student, he was one of my favorites of all time. This man had a sense of humor that could turn any piece of hard advice into a joke or any situation to a smile.
"Why didn't you just fix your watch instead of buying a new one? that's the problem with your generation today!" He'd say when I walked in.
"Did you call the foot doctor like I asked you to get those special made shoes so your feet don't hurt? No! you didn't listen!" He'd retort.
Some coworkers saw Lenny as short and mean tempered, but I saw his light, humorous side and pictured him more as a tough-love family member.
I noted a picture of his grandson and granddaughter sat by his bed.
One morning, I went to visit him even though he wasn't scheduled for treatment, 'he's all alone ', I thought,' 'I should probably check on him, I'll just make sure he's alright, he's probably lonely.'
As I walked by, I overheard a conversation with Lenny and his 90-something veteran, roommate, Sonny, "you know why you're here?!" he smugly explained, "your wife's pretty smart, she is smarter than me, she just just don't want to deal with you, my wife's dead. that's why I'm here." He smiled.
I kept walking, frowning on the inside and out, That was pretty mean, if it was or wasn't true.
A Frail old man in the 80s, with large rimmed glasses, a pronounced Jewish nose and a few wisps of gray hair, he was then the highlight of stressful days & a dear friend of mine. I loved to walk into his room and rescue him from the dullness that had become his life after a long stint of failing health & trips to the hospital. Perhaps, sometimes he too, rescued me.
One morning, I approached the nurses station of unit three in my building to get him, only to hear that Lenny had gone to the hospital after falling out of bed over the weekend. They told me he was far too weak to make the trip back.
My heart broke and I walked on down the hallway, fighting the tears.
"What's wrong??" A coworker from rehab approached me, seeing my blank expression. 'everything's wrong....' I wanted to explain, 'life's not fair.'
I knew this would happen, I knew deep down of how he was old and frail. But sometimes the sharpness of someone's mind and the truthfulness of the spirit can lie to us. Promising times to come. Goodbye my friend. It does not get easier but dulls my sadness once more to say...I was lucky to know you. Your suffering will be over soon.
Lenny died the next day.
Copyright © Maz Zie | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
Hand in hand we walked
together into Reception
Nothing could stop us and
together we were three
James and I LARP-ed Doctor
Who for fun
We talked and laughed for
Because no stress was in our
Anna and I smiled and laughed
And jumped on our bouncy
With nothing dividing us.
Side by side we walked
together into Year 6
Some stranger stopped them to
talk and broken we were alone
James and I talked about
Doctor Who for fun
And we talked and kissed for
But misunderstanding broke us
Anna and I still smiled and
And joked about our bouncy
But secondary school was going
to divide us.
With no one there I walked
alone into Year 7
And a stranger became my
friend and together we were
Violet and I both loved Doctor
And James found Dominic
So James and I talked for mere
And school started pulling us
Anna and I still laughed and
Still promising to be friends
Never letting it divide us
Suffocating and drowning I
walked into Year 9
Hating how I was and feeling
Katie and Chloe were so pretty
And Violet so funny and all
were better than me
James and I hardly talked or
saw each other
But we still made the most of
As we were like family, stress
couldn’t break us apart
Anna and I laughed but I did
not smile genuinely
Because the bouncy castle was
And our schools were beginning
to divide us
Dead yet breathing I stand
And I hate who am I and every
Fights broke us up and pulled
So I can feel Katie, Violet and
Falling further out my reach
James moved house to a place
And blamed me for never
talking to him
But really it was because of my
ex who was a girl
It was for something beyond
Anna and I were still friends;
only by a thread
As she did not know about me
And how school broke me apart
So this is me now; I’m all alone
No longer the smiling young girl
The only person talking to me
And the voice in side my head
You see; they all left me and
So now the only call I answer
Is that of my blades
And the darkness
That is constantly
Copyright © Teenage Frustrations | Year Posted 2013
Enjoy our parting day
the young girl child,
now full-grown wise Elder,
the brother she had taught to flex male muscle
without overbearing her Sister Gaia powers.
On this classic sun-baptizing fragrant May morning,
reflecting this same gently caressing day I was born
into earlier centuries of flowering cultures,
she prepares to leave me
as the length of our pilgrimage together
grows long enough to tip more poignant hello
into operatic final exit goodbyes.
I remember what I might have felt at two,
when she joined me
inviting me into our special shared world,
loving our polycultural identities,
nondual twins since infant-fairy magic,
not having previously known
how lonely love is without her.
Now, to stare remaining years ahead
without seeing and feeling her morning through evening present voice,
facing my own ecology of each Ego identity dying alone,
inevitably without her, or anyone,
dying without incarnate memories
of unconditionally cooperative love.
at two or three,
toddling outdoors in my most terrifying wild ways
exploring gardens and barns
chickens and pigs and milkcow domesticated wildness,
and returning to your crib to report back
all these wonderful worlds we would welcome
if you could only learn to walk and talk
I need not say farewell
as I learn to see forward as dying
into these deep rich memories
of learning to walk and talk with Sister Gaia's Welcome,
yet sometimes tipping, Wagon.
disappears as we stop over-investing in dominant negative
Yang, outweighing Yin's more integrally inclusive flow powers,
politically and economically,
personally and as a species,
intergenerationally and cross-culturally
now under-invested in multiculturing mutual-equity cooperative investments.
What is our mutual time-investment balance on this farewell date?
Do our mutual equity values line up, match, balance, absorb any lifetime losses?
Sister Gaia's regenerative trends
grow ever deeper cooperative equity-reinvestment designs,
policies and procedures for further self and other development
through EarthTribe Revolutions,
WinWin Life as LoveGame Health Theory.
We give evil, dissonant farewells,
nondual negative Janus-faces of Yang/Yin imbalance,
by seeing these toxins and poisons
and personifications of DeviL,
as other than absence of good
Yang/Yin balanced nutritional Co-Creation Stories.
This Final Farewell Memory
Earth's Embryonic UnFolding
of Love as stretching BiLateral Time's Black Hole
(0)Rigin Tipping MidWay ReVolutions
Yang(+) = Yin(-,-)
ThermoDynamic Prime Eulerian Co-ReGenerative Universal Function
Intelligent ZenZero Tao-Balanced fractal RNA-iconic-ionic enlightenment
as Time's bilaterally unfolding regenerate matters
of EarthTribe's healthy enculturating-revolving futures.
remembering my original embryonically environmental Hello,
Here We Are
incarnating in and out,
back and forth,
up as down,
Yang-out as Yin-in.
While Autumn farewell bears time's reputation for messy falls from grace,
this is prophesied in spring seedling beginnings
bearing message memories merging coarising births
of EarthTribe multigenerational,
His/Her Creation Story,
coarising nondual identities,
within Earth's ecology of regenerate-revolving design,
culturally deep enriching outcomes,
by turning down RightFisted AnthroSupremacy
to balance Left/Right Zero-Centric EcoSystemic Investment
and divestment, double-negative equivalent
WinWin DiPolarity Outcomes
ReGenerate Network Game Theory Development
from BiLateral-Temporal Prime Relational (0)-FractalFunction.
Enjoy this parting day
I have so loved beginning again together,
our mutually co-invested Creation Story.
Enjoy our continuing
final farewell day.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
a beast uncouth, unwise, and full of lies.
goodbye the eyes that see what the groin wants them to see,
goodbye the ears that never really listened
goodbye the heart that never really felt
that could not thaw but now can melt.
Goodbye the inability to really feel
or know what's real and how to deal.
hello to age
the gentle sage, compassionate and thoughtful.
hello to eyes that see the flaws but do not care
hello to ears that truly hear
hello to the sturdy heart that knows love
and instead of running in fear, draws it near
hello the giving
hello to living.
Copyright © Mark Hanna | Year Posted 2009
When I die...
I’m an explosion of bubbles,
Just like how a bubble encases the air within it,
I become that air.
In ‘time’ that very air will dissipate.
Blended together to form what we know as ‘The Everything’.
Copyright © Iva Sivaraja | Year Posted 2016
I have been walking in a domestic land abandoned and
Left to go wild and there is a struggle for dominance among
The trees the olive and carob tree especially
Grow tall and imposing while berry bushes use their long
Claws like talons to attack and hinder a walker by letting him
Bleed and fertilize the ground where cows and mules no
Longer leaves behind their residue.
I`m waiting for my favourite plant a small bush so shimmering
light it is transparently green take lift after a few days
To the planet wench they came.
I`m glad the hunting has stopped for now to give animals
A chance replenished and be shot and hunted by dogs in fall.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2016
against my past unrequited
only faintly remembered
and left frozen in time
Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
*A assignment was due in class. *
Every time a gun shoots
A tree looses its roots
Every time there is bloodshed
Along with it millions of tears are shed
Every time a heart is stabbed
Someone else’s life gets barren
As violence grows
Many more mothers moan
The sounds of destruction
Overpowers the voice of those
Who are innocent
Who suffer with no reason
Who beg for life
Who have heart full of innocence
Why do so much violence?
That the child’s cry cannot be heard
When his father is killed
Why do so much violence?
That a mother moans
Over her child’s dead remains
Why do so much violence
For winning any stupid battle
Which is taking lives
Of people who have wives
And mothers and children
When you can keep calm
Talk things out
Do whatever you can
To keep violence out
Because there is no sin as big as
Copyright © donna lu | Year Posted 2013
you whispered sweet doubts into my ears
but i was so blind to acknowledge the fears
ill never regret how i felt for you
but you seem so far gone, i don't know what to do
i only did what i thought was right
but i guess i lost all fear and extinguished the light
Bay, i wish i never left
but its to late to take it back
Bay, i wish i had some sort of sign
to know your OK
i have this horrible habit of making a mess of things
you might think it funny
but i jump when the phone rings
i hope you dont blame me for what happened
but then again it must have been my fault
i guess all those times i apologized were in advance
for the heartbreak that i probably brought down upon you
bay, im sorry, im sorry, im sorry if you ever read this
you'll finally understand the way i still feel about you
nobody ever said it was easy
but nobody ever said i would fall this hard
i miss you
please bay, im sorry
Copyright © ayla Hughes | Year Posted 2013
You come from that place where Queen Anne’s lace
and milk thistle grow thick on the creek bank
behind the house.
Black-eyed Susans, opened to the sky,
sway strong and tall in the wind.
A dogwood blooms;
in remembrance of friends gone.
And the dust gathers
heavy over that forgotten place.
My heart closed up like a daylily
And I, a late blooming rose,
far into an Indian summer.
You left; then I—
left and shook the dust not just from feet,
but hair, skin, bones.
It collected deep inside, though.
As you did.
We never said goodbye.
© stephanie pepper, 2013
Copyright © Stephanie Pepper | Year Posted 2013
The season of hope, the season of giving,
The time to reflect on the life you've been living.
Children innocent, gleeful, jolly,
Masquerading in magical midnight folly.
Token gifts exchanged with teary eyes,
Sentimentality to make up for expressionless lies.
The streets lined bright with twinkling lights,
Amaretto, giddy to dispell never-ending nights.
The anticipation is welcomed into their chests,
The disillusioned only waiting to end their direst.
Simply a day if you've no one to share with,
Only a waiting game, until it is over with.
Just one day yet it's been another year,
Rejection was always your biggest fear.
Melancholia swelling in your heart, loneliness growing more,
Then Christmas is over and it's all back to how it was before.
Copyright © Autumn Matthews | Year Posted 2015
and farther still
and laughter spilled.
For wisdom comes
In breaks and stings
In the common things
of an ordinary life,
and a world accustomed to strife.
Hopes that dash,
an effort crashed,
finds brawny heart
turned fragile glass.
For every love lowered to the grave
wax cautious then detached.
Yes far away
and farther still
Are the hearts yet unaware,
not yet climbing the skeptics hill,
nor knowing the worth of a prayer.
For quickly fades oh guiltless youth
when truth be not
a required proof.
When was the end
year two or three?
when the heart still trusted
and by faith believed
that the journey
was never so far
the hardest part.
Copyright © Sarai Virden | Year Posted 2014
If I hold on to strings,
That tend to slip away,
Does that mean I love things,
That I know will never stay?
If I hang on to a love,
that just holds me down,
Does that mean that my wings,
Won’t get me off the ground?
If I hold on to lies,
That I only half believe,
When I look in your eyes,
Will you look back at me?
Copyright © Ag Ki | Year Posted 2013
LAST OF HOPE
When night comes and darkness takes over
Where is the saturation of inner light?
What has come over the soul within?
Asking and not finding
Seeking and nowhere to see beneath
The struggle and agony is unbearable
Weather is stormy, struggles are strong
Nowhere to hide, someone to seek help
Time has come to say goodbye
None to promise in the next life
The light is gone, time has come
Forgiveness is urgent and struggling for pardon
No! No! There is no way to go!
Time has come. Time to go
Copyright © Tatiana Nde | Year Posted 2016
by JOHN M. ARRIBAS
I SEARCH THE CROWD AS THEY PASS BY
TO FIND SOMEONE THAT IS OLD TO MY EYE
I SEE NO ONE
I RECOGNIZE NARY A SOUL
THERE IS NO IMAGE FOR ME TO RECALL
WHERE HAVE ALL THOSE FAMILIAR FACES GONE?
IS IT THAT I’M IN THE WRONG PLACE?
WHO ARE ALL THESE STRANGERS?
WHERE ARE MY KIN AND MY FRIENDS?
THEY WERE HERE IN GREAT NUMBERS ONCE
SEEMS THAT THEY HAVE ALL VANISHED
NOW I FIND MYSELF ALONE
I MAY HAVE JUST LIVED TOO LONG
Copyright © John Arribas | Year Posted 2015
Poem about Sudbury, Ontario, Canada
I remember orange busses
if I'm showing my age.
When Sudbury's fleet
was the best and the rage.
I remember them coming
while I stood at the stop.
They were bright, they were bold
and the colour went pop.
I remember them ending
when the day finally came,
when it seemed one was left
by the highway in fame.
Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2014
Life Proved Too Much
A culmination of factors; like leaves gathered
Mixed with acorns in autumns raked passion
Pulled callously along like wet hair straining
Through an old comb on rain drenched mornings
Hollowed collapsed buildings fall on cold snow
No longer loom as towers of strength
Against their wishes they become construction gone
Under afternoons gray cumulus cloud covers
Unable to continue on, of their own accord
To hold up under these conditions, stress
Under such pressures brought on by age
Structures tend to fall
All at once they beg the earth to take them
Separated, far from their birth as buildings
From the encumbrances of holding strong
Life proved too much to continue on
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
A masterminded kingdom sets the new age rule. Two monarchs once trained to now duel. Purposes are unknown as the two take to the field. Both are field with courage and either will never yield. A lost love is the new age rage. These are men ready to battle full of authorized Caesar like rage. As the onslaught blood reign continues towards a man slain. This is an honored crusade with much to gain.
Many men have stepped into this ravaged battle tested field with broken hearts and lost love causing them to clash. A royal intensity spreads like a rash. The battle has now commenced. As one springs for his life the other is drenched. So who has won this skill of new age strife? All his highness wanted to do was die with his beloved wife.
His intent was never to kill, but as things got deranged it was time to take aim. This was his time to mane. Bloody and battered the king is sought with new age worship. This is something he will equip for his reign is no longer in need of a pistol grip.
Copyright © nick alexander | Year Posted 2015
There is beauty in this beacon of the sun.
she lingers along the wind,
through the window.
Casting no shadow upon my bed.
Old crooked door and noisy hinges.
Still cold,morning dew till noon.
Drops a few on the front stone
below the cottonwood.
Lovely chair painted white.
A long time ago.
Chipped and rusted.
Blue underneath where it was once new.
I sat for a lifetime in that chair the day you died
I cried on the flowers that you would plant
I felt lost and angry,I'm sorry that I ripped them up.
I`ll plant them again next chance I get.
They will always be there.
Like the slamming of the screen door.
He smiles at me on the way
to the bus stop.
Runs his hands across the tall grass.
I hoped the bitterness would pass.
But it just isn't the same here without you.
He gets out of bed around ten sees me there in the old chair.
We sit and talk about you.
I just want to write this for you.
We still love you.
Copyright © edward cousins | Year Posted 2013
Well, another birthday has come and gone.
The older you get, the more you regret.
The days you have let slip on by.
Remembering the things you have done.
Taking note of the things you still want to do.
Time is ticking away for you.
Days have turned into years.
It seems like in the blink of the eye.
Some have not been so good to you.
Some times you have not been so good to yourself.
You sit and think...What if....
What if I did this, instead of that?
So, you decide it's time, after all you're not getting any younger.
Poem was originally May21, 2010
Copyright © Crystal Bellman | Year Posted 2015
How one wishes to relish in the things of the past
Because it is their voice one hears the most
Like ghosts whispering soft things
Your ears perceive them
Words are ghosts
Of the people who wrote them
How many poems have I seen?
Written by anonymous
Are they lost, or forgotten
singing the words from the grave
or in your bed
“Hello dear” They whisper
“How I missed you”
Wrapping around your head
muffling your thoughts
Are you a zombie or a human
How we wish for the oblivion that takes those that try to run
But we fear it and end up running ourselves
Are you afraid of the dark? Or the oblivion you seek?
And we run at the pace of zombies
backwards around the world
so we age faster than we can learn
so we shrivel before we heal
How much human can you take before you are not human
Is the dark any better than the light if the light needs the dark to be light
My ghosts say otherwise but they are too human to see any wisdom
Ever so lightly
I crave the voices
Or so we are told not to hear them
But we still do
The things that haunt us made of
the wisps of l o n g
u n i n t e n t i o n a l
h u r t
How is the oblivion good
when you can relish
in the ghost of memories?
Copyright © Sam Villegas | Year Posted 2015
Why are people scared to die
Is it the fact that it is our final good bye,
Once you are in the ground and buried six feet deep
The silence must be unreal to not even hear a peep,
You are dead and can't hear or react to nothing
Because it is due to the sound proof coffin,
You wonder what does happen after a few days
From what we know our bodies start to decay,
I hope I am above and looking down
But, hopefully by then I will be heaven bound,
Dying is easy and living is not
So just enjoy time here on earth because in the end we will have forgot.
Written By: Unique Poetry 2009
Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015