Best Friendshipgirl Poems
He was a sweet talking guy,
Sewina was his name,
Led a girl to his passion waters,
The thirst was all the same,
Cloaked in all his sadness,
Bursting within from shame,
The girl released his hold,
Without pushing further blame,
For he kept himself in torture,
And for that she could not remain.
A pile of bones sleeps next to me.
A deflated figure of someone I used to know.
I don't think she knows I've noticed her metamorphosis
because she still looks fat in her tired eyes.
I see the dinner she lets sit cold on her plate
and the exercises she submits her weak body to every night,
inculcated into becoming the perfect size.
I've seen her expurgate almost all the fat on her once beautiful body.
I see a lugubrious girl whose bones look as if they will pierce through her thin layer
of pale, lifeless skin.
The size 5 marked on her jeans has shrunk to a child's dimension
And there's nothing
Nothing
That I can do.
Her brain is consumed by a sickness I can't understand and hopefully never will.
She doesn't even look the same.
A shadow of the girl I once understood.
A drawing of a girl I barely recognize,
No longer a person, but an object to be amazed by.
I want to hold her without her bones poking the healthy fat on my own body.
I glance over at the skeleton sleeping next to me.
Not far from collapsing into a heap of depressed teenager.
She works so hard for perfection and gorgeousness
And I try to see her how she sees herself
But all I see is nothing except
Bones.
the first time we met,it was awkward because we didn't
know what to say.
speechless as can be,we look at each other and smile
and say sorry.
I walk away without looking,she looks back and smile.
but as I walk away she made me smile.
but I wonder about her if I will ever see her again.
I wonder who was that girl I bumped into.
I wonder if she was just a angel that just appeared above
looking for her way back.
so I walk and walk,I see the angel I was thinking about
It was the girl I bumped into,she was playing her guitar.
I walk up to her and ask her,
your the girl I bumped into.I wonder what is your name.
she smiled and said angel.
huh really,yup she said.
she played beautifully,wow I smiled and said I have to get
going.
how about tomorrow.
she said ok,
I said ok,I will come to see you..
I smiled away..and she smiled back
and thats how I met angel
There was a naughty girl, Doris
and a naughty girl was she
Nothing would she do but...
Daydream about arts and poetry
Like a puzzle to be solved in my vision
Why was this so?
Brian Strand among others have a regular
contest to stimulate the pen and mind of me.
Reading other's works
Helps to pass the time
Emotions and ideas flow
until the thought becomes written upon paper
and filed away at poetry soup.com
There was a naughty girl Doris
and a very naughty girl was she
nothing would she do but surf poetry soup and write poems.
Encouraging other naughty/nice boys and girls
Like Colleen, Jared, Richard, Marty and yes Little Sara.
Take a poetry break-Carol, and all poetry soup friends
Don't do the dishes
Don't do the Laundry
Come on Dane Ann, Carolyn, Phyllis,
Sweetheart, Let's play
Don't do the vacuuming
Don't do the cooking
Take out, tonight!!
When we are naughty, go all the way!!
For Brian Strand's contest christmas parlour poetry