I WONDER IF ONE EVER FEELS HEAVY IN HEAVEN
I will sing you to a star
No matter how very far
I will bring you to the sun
No matter how slow or fast we run
The skies will play you a rhapsody
But I will write and arranged the melody
A reverie will reveal itself within your amber eyes
as angels sing harmony to your gentle sighs
I will take you with my song to another universe
And while we’re there I’ll write you another lovely verse
This one will be about a love sanctified and strong
And for me the lyrics couldn’t have lasted too long
I will tell the strings to play pianissimo if you please
And you will giggle when a moonbeam tickles you to tease
Your beauty will write the words and by I the music made
But honey, we must hurry before that star begins to fade
So let me play you a symphony with the silken strings of my heart
And as we take flight we’ll hear the piano play its pertinent part
I will conduct the orchestra as conductors always do
And when I swear to sing you to a star sweetheart, believe that it’s all true
© 2011.….Poefree
I free write each poem
I place on this page
every word I write
isn't stagged
I don't really think
of what will rhyme
I just write each thing
and fill out
another line
I am one child
of a woman
who was blind
not literally
but emotional
and a man who
was lost in his own life
turned around
and took it out on mine
So tell me I did something wrong
but trust him
and beg to belong
mother I cry out
in a burnt out rage
here I am in another daze
Every word is underneathe
my emotional wall
how it use to stand
but now it's broken
how soon shall it fall?
How does it feel to make a second best?
With hearts broken all around you
Lifes a test
And the test for you is to create blue
In every grey eyed girl in the world
How does it feel to walk alone
Under city lights on cold rainy nights
It feels cold, but warmed with the thoughts of a gun
And a hand that would reach out to no-one
"Honey, it isn't the same"
Well whos to blame
Lay sitting phone busy on the doorstep
Because what you did, made the rain cry
Wondering why to god
And praying to the devils child
You got it all wrong
And your decisions are wild
With a knife to your wrist and a girl loved left pissed
How does it feel?
To have that light in your life shut off and left to gather dust
Like a painting on the wall
So many of the same clutter your walls
You got what you wanted, and you don't feel feelings
It's because you're a work of priceless art
And all you ever cared about was yourself
So you can't see that girls changing
To feel like the world around her
...
You could always tell when I was upset
Because I'd write and write till my pencil broke
And the outcome never really rhymed
Am I upset?
I write for the same reason I stare in the mirror
Each moment spent looking for a trace of myself
Hoping the reflection in the glass or the page
Can give me some indication of who I'm trying to be
I have walked so many roads in my life
And walked a great many more in my mind
That sometimes I forget where I was going
Though I can never forget where I've been
I wonder if the landscape of my days
Is shaped by my true intentions
Or a lack of focus on the choices I've made
Did I get here because I intended too
Or did I simply wander this way
Is the person I wake as each day
A conscious decision, or a series of chances made real
So I stare in the mirror forever
Trying to look away fast enough to see myself as others do
I write pages I never send
Trying to understand the ways I see myself
My only real goal
To sleep soundly as who I am
I am looking for my answers in all the wrong places
I am head down walking into walls and wishing that the blood washes me clean
I am hurting
I wonder who I am
I wonder where I'll go
I wonder which is best and which is best left alone
I feel so all alone
I feel so stupid
I feel
I want to stop
I want to go
I want to leave well enough alone
Who am I?
Do you know?
If you do
Please tell me
I really want to know
I write because I am happy
I write because I am sad
I write because the dark consumes me and all that is left is the bad
I sing so low no one can hear me
I sing so high that I squeak
I sing so that I'll remember that this is better than to speak
I know that this is sulky
I know that this is bad
I know that this is not salvation, but I continue and that is just sad
Who am I?
I really want to know
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