Best Leaving Poems | Poetry
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New Leaving Poems
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Leaving This World
by Behm, Kurt Philip
Trump Leaving Hearts Pounding
by Horn, James
LEAVING NO STONE UNTURNED
by Name Forsakes Me, The
by Zangpo, Dawa
Leaving Love Trash In The Past
by davis, robin
Leaving One Sound Sleep
by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Daddy is Leaving
by McGuire, Timothy
withdrawing into shell final part is leaving london
by low, gate
by parker, cs
by wadley, kewayne
View all new Leaving Poems
The Best Leaving Poems
(NOTHING MORE TO SAY)
I've seen the way you look at me
I've seen the way you look at them
Without wanting to admit, you hate everything I stand for
Lying to yourself, you are sweet, caring and better
Still, you look at me and hate everything I stand for
You are a cheat - A liar - A toilet flushing down rain
You seek and want my attention, yet you have no domain
Your THANK YOU's are cheaper than a grin on a Walmart bag
The light - The light - That shines upon your expression
Nothing more than.....
Sour grapes traveling towards the darkest region of the sun
Yes, simple prunes basking all the time!!!!!
Shaking powdered grapes from lobe to lobe
Watching humping wild hogs who can't eat cake
---Desperately you mock yourself---
Before you draw a blank, let me remind you
You look at me and hate everything I stand for
The way I smile, carry myself every day
I never claim to be perfect, but better with no anvil
You can't bear the way I stand in front of the soap display
I embrace with all my spirit, at the end of every day
I'm so glad I am nothing like you or them
In reality, I judged you the moment you walked in
Before the year ends, I will end my affair right here
I have nothing more to say
I hope you all have a great new year.
TaTa SKAT in the Hat
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015
I'm leaving now, but here is a reminder
'Twill bring to you the days we walked through rain
So when you wish to feel my hand in yours
Or stroke your dripping hair-- Then kiss the rain
Though leaving now, I wish I could be with you
So when you feel o'erwhelmed with grief or pain
And long for my caress upon your face,
The rain will touch instead-- So kiss the rain
Whenever you have tho'ts of this sad parting
And salty tears your lovely cheeks do stain
To feel the tears for you I'll surely have
Do this, and I will too-- Go kiss the rain
Whenever you are longing for my presence
And times that we went strolling down the lane
I'll whisper soft endearments on the breeze
So heed the sighing wind-- And kiss the rain
If ever you should pine to hear me speaking
The thunder might burst forth with glorious main*
While drops that fall are sure to be my tears,
To feel them wet your skin-- Just kiss the rain
* Power or Force
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013
A Last Poem for You, My Mate
If Death comes calling in colorful spring
I hope it will come in the month of May
When our garden is filled with fragrant blooms
That you have tended in your caring way.
Pansies and daisies with their sweet faces
Look up to agapanthus lofty height.
Each bloom as diverse as we are humans,
Each offers beauty to my love's delight.
Please don't come in summer when school is out,
Time with our grandchildren I cherish so.
I can't think of ruining their fun time
I'm pleading, in summer, don't make me go.
The times that we share at the pool or parks
Is precious to me as watching them grow.
They fill my heart with such laughter and joy
I feel their love too...I'm letting you know.
Oh Death, come in autumn, my favored time.
When green leaves turn scarlet, orange and gold.
My eyes feast on beauty of changing trees,
Grateful for my seasons of growing old.
Autumn transcends my soul's true endeavors
To leave with you poetic words, my mate.
My legacy...to our generations
As we must all accept Death as our fate.
In winter, a time of quiet and rest...
When reflections of past mirror our views
And we watch as our life spreads before us
If it’s time to leave, I wish I could choose.
However Death, should you come in winter,
When the Earth like my hair is bathed in white,
I'd embrace your visit in my winter
To dwell forever in God's divine light.
My Muse, Mortal - Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Gregory R. Barden
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2018
I can't recall
the day you left
Empty words going west
~To: The West Coast~
My love, my sweet love -- my soulmate
I will cherish our time, with the sun
My love, my friend, my lover
Today we part, on this day June 3rd 15
My love, my sweet love -- my everything
On this day, I will take the long way home
On this day, I will look back and smile
To know it was not a dream
My love, my sweet love -- my true love
With this pen, I write this letter,
My bed now knits a different sweater,
Preparing my linens for darker weather
I want you to know, I'm writing this with a swollen heart
It was never you, it was I who grew apart
Patience kept you warm when I was cold
Every night, I cried, I tried to feed you my dreams
My hollow soul sat like a fool under a heavy cloud
Holding back, the needing of proceeding who I was
My love -- please forgive me
I was inconsiderate of us
I would lay without opening the windows of trust
Your smiles I wiped away with my faults
However you stayed, you watched,
You meant to kiss and stop the pouring rain
You kept strong, holding my hand,
When everything around my life persisted to perish
You soaked every time I stormed,
I regret when I refused to let you touched the women in me
My love -- it was never you
I was broken before our hearts met
Like a villain and a thief,
You took my diamonds in hopes to see them shine again
Your demons found a way into the shadows of my life
Trying to complete what you could not see
You could not feel, still you believed in me
My dreams, you held me close, loving who I am
My love -- you are the sunrise the sunset
Your limbs kept me up when I would fall
I will miss the touch of light in every stare
Thank you for not looking my way, the day you left
I did not want you to see the mask I used to cover it all
Pretending, I was strong when I was weak
Knowing I had fallen in love with you
~From: South Texas--
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
*Note: A 60-year annual tradition that involved a mysterious visitor leaving three
roses at the grave of writer Edgar Allan Poe on the anniversary of his birthday
ended in January 2010. Curators of the Poe House and Museum are at a loss to
explain who left these gifts and why they stopped. On many occasions people kept
vigils near Poe’s grave during this period that began in 1949, but no one ever saw
someone leaving the roses. In the morning, however, they were always on his
grave. Poe is considered the father of the American short story and
his poem The Raven is one of his best known works.
Once upon a midnight dreary, Poe heard a tapping at his window
While grieving the loss of his young bride, a maiden “angels named Lenore,”
A radiant teen whose long, black hair in gentle breezes would billow,
Tapping at the window ceased, but suddenly it was heard at his door
Upon opening it, a Raven flew in repeating, “Nevermore”
At first he welcomed this odd visitor until Poe whispered, “Lenore”
When he heard his word echo, the strange Raven he began to abhor
He asked if he’d see his bride again and the bird replied, “Nevermore”
Though Poe died in eighteen forty-nine, a mystery evolved much later
A century after his death, his grave had an annual visitor
Roses were left on his birthday by someone whose love appeared greater
Who had left these floral gifts forever stumped the Poe House curator
Perhaps the answer can only be explained by reincarnation
Did the Raven embody the spirit of Poe’s beloved Lenore
If so, perhaps the Raven returned again in a life rotation
In human form she visited to lay roses on the earthen floor
And upon her death in two-thousand nine, she took to the skies once more
A Raven who now joins the flock circling above her late husband’s grave \/
Could it be her spirit remains with Poe, as it did in life before \/ \/ \/
Bringing him in the afterlife all the roses a poet could crave \/ \/ \/ \/
For those who consider this possibility totally absurd
Just consider the fantasies Poe created with the written word
By Carolyn Devonshire
Contest Title: “Among the Dead,” sponsored by Constance LaFrance ~ A Rambling
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
Scurrying on my way home, a little leaf catches my eye, and I am compelled yet again to slow down.
a whirlwind of thoughts
compete with swaying of trees~
lone leaf on my shoe
I am not sure exactly when my fascination for falling leaves started, there is just something so beautiful and artistic in which they drift to the ground....I recall one particular moment in my college literature class when my professor inquired into my choice of the word "wither" in my leaf metaphor for a dying old couple.
My explanation involved telling him that for me, that particular word had a certain gracefulness to it, and that was how I saw that couple in their twilight years. But I deviate, for I merely intend to write about the interesting tree that I saw the other day. I do not know what species it is, but it bears its berry-like fruits on its branches and it has cordate leaves.
barren branches touch
newborn leaves on other side--
a paradox tree
A smile languidly forms together with my memory of seeing that same tree six days post double-faced state. It proudly donned a full crown of leaves in less than a week. With this image in mind, I can’t help but feel mystified, with the constancy and dichotomy of change….It seems like everything around me is continuously evolving, revolving. I can’t help but feel lost.
Almost in defiance to this line of thinking, I shake the leaf off my shoe, and trample on it. Instead of feeling satisfied, I feel guilt. I never did forget that Enid Blyton tale of how dried leaves were actually fairies.
littered autumn road
I stomp on the frail fallen….
my feet crushing death
Rolling my eyes with my melodramatic thoughts, I continue my walk home. It’s crazy how leaves can make me go philoloopysical. I am tempted to actually stop in the middle of the road and simply sit there—be among the trees as the wind serenades them, with the leaves swaying gently, some choosing to pirouette, some doing the salsa dip.
Being the practical person that I am, I just run my fingers along my wind-discoed hair. If it were possible, I would like to be a leaf. I find such nobility and grace to it. Imagine being able to capture light, transforming energy to create nourishment. Giving, breathing life. There is a delicate artistry with the changing of its colors—a complex, fascinating chemistry in each blade that I’m sure God is so proud of.
eyes gently follow
dying trail of withered leaf;
wind sighs its mourning
I pick up one leaf to remind me...
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2015
Eternity within your grasp
My plea? To undo the clasp
Let Desire wash away
Tomorrow and yesterday
Every other thought and dream
Meaningless I make them seem
Had you let the floodgates go
Oh, what pleasure you would know
But you let the moment pass
Tranquility came softly by
Sweet promise with you to lie
A scent full of serenity
It caressed your very skin
But you didn’t let it in
No, you let the moment pass
Passion demands obeisance
Set to conquer your essence
In fevered pitch of a storm
To tempt you in every form
Fantasies of every kind
Unleashed frenzy of the mind
Transformed into what is real
But you were afraid to feel
To be tossed around and worn
To be completely reborn
Pounded by a wanton need
Every craving to be freed
Coaxed to burst into flame
But fear made your wild heart tame
And you let the moment pass
Love came knocking at your door
To bequeath a kiss and more
Calling in angelic chime
Faithful pledge denying time
Bonding of a soul to soul
Golden chance to become…whole
Promise true to last and last
But you let the moment pass
Now you beg and kneel to pray
For Him to open the way
You cajole powers that be
Somehow to change destiny
Before that moment to stand
Hold it safely in your hand
To seize me, the source of these
Let passion and love to please
To capture that golden time
Where all could fall into rhyme
Oh, my love, it will not be
My broken heart cannot see
My way through the halls of time
When I begged to make you mine
And now, my love, alas, alas
I must let this moment pass
In tears I let this moment……..P A S S
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
He called it love and his captivating way,
She called it fear and longed for the day.
All alone she cried those bitter nights,
While he ran around to his hearts delight.
He had her heart he pulled her strings,
All she ever wanted was the joy that only true love can bring.
He controlled her mind, her spirit, her soul,
All alone with no hopes of ever achieving her goals.
Completely stripped of confidence and pride,
She became a victim of his heartless and evil side.
She was hardly a child when he stole her heart,
Lured in to his web with lies and broken promises from the start.
Now all of her dreams have faded away,
As she musters up courage to try to make it through another day.
He has convinced her that what he says is the final word,
No matter what she had read or heard.
You can’t make it out there, alone, is what he said!
You won’t last a week till somebody finds you dead.
So callous and cruel he chose those frightening words to keep her here,
But she had reached the end and leaving was the only way and she saw it clear.
She said you’re right and I should hush so let’s not fight,
But her things were packed, she’d be leaving this night.
He got all dressed and went out to make the town,
She called her a taxi and left that clown.
She broke the bonds that held her there,
Now she’s on her own enjoying life and breathing in this new found air.
This little sparrow has found her wings,
Enjoying everything this life can possibly bring.
Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2008
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here
I can’t get back in control of my emotions
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy
I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help
Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
Lusting the passions of a secret desire
Unwinding the mystery of my needs
Funerals are for the future
Internment I ask be deferred
Timeless is my youth
Useless is my request
At seeking eternity or at least eternal rest
End of times may seem long away
Beauty we know fades, it will happen some day
So I dream of youthful moments
Isle graveyards were far away
Holy wars and loveless scores
That a soldier must endure
A desire for peace escapes this generation and more
External forces and internal woes
Death dances at my door
Dedicated to Sara Bernhardt, who slept in her coffin amongst all her love letters.
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
Armadilly came galloping into Troll Lake, bent on seeking a new life, to unwind.
He’d rode out of the Badlands, leaving only a trail of blowing dust and leaves, behind.
His steady stead Jalopy had been pounding feet, relentlessly with powerful strides.
Rearing up, Armadilly stopped before our Troll Bridge with his slingshot at his side.
I could see, he rode the sleekest mount, and the biggest tortoise, that I had ever seen.
Man that armadillo knew his tortoise flesh… this was the fastest one, ever been!
I would say: he truly looked, the devil’s mount… with glowing, fire stocked eyes.
The stranger named himself as Armadilly, but his true identity, could not be denied.
He was really Armadilly Billy, The Slingshot Kidster, as he bowed to us, so very low.
With a yes Ma'am, and a no Sir, he was smooth and could charm, near any old soul.
The Trolls loved him for the spell binding stories, that at the campfire, he gave away.
He never talked about his past, but we knew who he was, without being told, that day.
The rumor had it that Sheriff Bunny Garret had shot him dead, on one fateful day.
Another said he’d faked his death, heading south to Mexico, his life to live away.
But we knew better, for he was here with us, right now, on this illustrious day.
We knew he was a kind and misunderstood guy, because of what I’m about to say.
He saved our squirrel, Funkundilly, from a hawk diving straight for her, inward bound.
With his slingshot, like streaked lightening, he forced the hawk to spiral to the ground.
And we all applauded that Funkundilly was now, once again, so very safe and sound.
Then he strode, spurs a jangling, to dish out his own type of justice, so very renowned.
With a steely glint in his eye, he ordered the hawk away, or meet his end, he did convey.
And you can say that frightened bully hawk, really high tailed it, as he ran away.
Everyone celebrated that night, with Armadilly, all the way to dawn’s embrace.
Before he left, Armadilly knew from then on, he’d always have a home in this place.
But his mind was set on a wandering, more of this world’s adventures, to unweave.
So with a HiHo! Jalopy! He took off, leaving in another cloud of dust and leaves.
But I heard him shout that he’d be back again, soon…
And we were sure, that’s just what he would do!
Inspired by Silly Billy the Kidster's--- Billy the Kid Blog
An epic poem by Carol Eastman
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012
Had she looked back at me
Even for just a second ...
Our encounter might have been the stuff of tabloid frenzy.
But she left quickly a coffee in one hand,
A shopping bag in the other,
And I waited for my turn next in line.
Copyright © Charles Hamouth | Year Posted 2015
When it is time for me to pass away
I’ll pack and leave; I dare not overstay.
But ere I drift out slowly with the tide
I’d wish to have my children by my side
To reassure them that we’ll meet again.
And when they saunter down memory lane
A treasure they will find within their mind,
Small pearls of wisdom which I left behind.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The Creative Collective Anthology Series
Contest hosted by Geraldine Taylor.
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2018
I love being young, getting to ride the roller coasters.
The sound, tick, tick, tick, tick-like a heartbeat racing to the top.
Then, surprised even when you know it’s coming, dropped into the abyss.
Something always pulls it down, like gravity.
It’s frustrating, riding something so close to being dead.
So far away but still so close, seating rows.
I hate being so close to, yet so far from the row.
She was in with me on this roller coaster.
Adrenaline rushed my body so fast almost leaving me dead.
The blood flowed so fast emphasizing the highs of the top.
But something keeps pulling me down, gravity.
Here I am again, back in the abyss.
In the ride, weeks of no communication, the beginning of the end, the abyss.
The scariest. My worst fear of my youth. Looking back at the rows,
I see her, with my own image, my heart sinks more. I hate you gravity.
But it’s the only thing that fuels the roller coaster.
Nothing makes me happier than bringing it back to the top.
Let’s hope this isn’t so abrupt, so fast, like the last one, leaving me dead.
How I hope so much, so much hope still not dead.
The heart, the love, the eternal abyss.
Strikes me back with enough momentum to reach the top.
Lines, love, flashing like an old film, with rows.
Showing me a movie, reminding me of, a roller coaster.
The movie explained that the only thing that keeps it going is gravity.
Thank you gravity.
My worries are gone and dead.
Just accept it, and love the roller coaster.
Appreciate the loneliness of the abyss.
The reason you’re here is for the ride, not the rows.
I just want to enjoy the youth and its happy tops.
This coaster, like love has its tops.
But something brings it down like gravity.
Distanced with rows,
Never seeing her again, thinking she’s dead.
But deeper and deeper coming out of the abyss.
The complicated life of the young, the love of roller coasters.
Get on the roller coaster, rise to the top.
Don't worry about the drop to the abyss, It’s because of gravity
That you’re not dead, and I don't care about the rows.
Copyright © Marcus Jjaks Reyes | Year Posted 2013
Soak in hummingbird’s exhale
I feel tragic sonatas
Trying to chain
Trying to crucify
My sedentary grip on instability
I smell the repugnant commoner
Blasting scattered shots
Against yesterday’s decent
I became the handsome error again.
The godfather of uplifting idle minds
Sedated within the bosoms of complacency
Because, indirectly, I was the inebriated screw-up
Immunized with community pride
As 420’d lyricists
Puff corrugated burns
To keep their spine
Fused in relatable,
They dodge flagrant accountability
Like an intentional cripple
Slow dance with agnostic prayer
There would be no commandments
To remind me
That I am still beautiful inside
Yet, Gaia’s sun empowers this stanza
To breathe better breaths
To see what refuses to be seen
And no longer accept what cannot be changed
I carve milestones upon gravestones
In friends’ memoriam, nevermore
It felt peacefully redundant to be important,
Chiseling away the vowels of animosity
Attempts to hold my hands
Within this ambidextrous nightmare
Right hand, red
Left hand, chained
For developing minds,
Their figure of speech
Meant no blissful harm
With their 40 lashes
Conjured by judgmental testaments
Oh, how they preach for better tomorrows
While stirring yesterday’s pot
Becoming the “end” in “friend”...
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2017
I NEVER LEFT YOU
When youthful restless hearts hear defining calls
With volcanic strength they will respond
The impetus for adventure overrides
All rational thoughts, out of window they go
For youth knows no bounds of daring appeal
Twenty I was, when I heard the “buzz”,
With gusto and a lick of good sense I made the run
Carpe Diem was my exalted, exuberant cry
So I followed the path to places to me unknown
To her, I whispered with pain and sorrow
I must seek what the world to my lot bestowed
But be assured that one day for you I shall return
Feeling liberated and not knowing why
Effusive and with feigned bravery I bid to all farewell
The beyond had the smell of fragrant thrills
From America to America my journey began
Imbued with hope, dreams, and strong will
I began carving a new life, a new beginning
Dreams, goals ,and desires within me abounded
To fail was never a contemplated option
For failure the young bravely defies
All those memories of a half century ago
Come back to me in flares and bursts of fading energies
Now that I am approaching the sunset of my days
Wondering wastefully how it might have been
Had I not pursued the Echo of that life changing call
That outcome will never to me be known
But oh! How I long and yearn for that love I bid farewell
My ashes will one day fertilize a seed above that green hill
From that seed a tree will grow into a refuge
To shelter, in hot, sunny or stormy days, living fragile things
Then I shall sleep eternally in tranquil peace
Knowing that I kept, though belated to her my promise
And in serene harmony, proclaim, “I never left you my beloved Brazil”'.
Copyright © Ernandes Fialo | Year Posted 2015
I listen to hums of 70 degree air conditioned whispers.
Playful, chirping birds swing across damp meadows
Under humidity’s gentle fog
‘Tis a silent morning, 5 days in the making
A gentle reflection upon my minutes,
Absorbing breaths of home
So much laughter
So much joy
So much food
Even a miniscule side of frustration’s true colors,
Amusing attempts to sludge my momentum
My friends made themselves known.
The others become answered insignificance.
My beating heart couldn’t be more grateful.
My pupils reflect upon final nights’ splendor,
While they write lessons upon life’s chalkboard
Fury of Salsa & Disco beats
Pulsate across my spongy cerebellum
Holding hands with my Mother in proprietary motions
The whites of my eyes become silver injected pools of serenity.
What more could I ask for?
I listen for 8 & 4 year old footsteps to silently speak
Exacerbated adoration, filling my smile with electric permanence
In these silent, reflecting moments before I pack my bag, my soul’s window
…I await aromas of a Puerto Rican brunch
Before I go home
I await touches of a gentle waterfall against my cheek
Before I go home
I await exemplary wishes from roots of family tree to return tomorrow
Before I go home
And, after these shedding tears & resilient smiles are embedded within,
I await the reckoning that will shake foundations into Ionosphere grins
©Drake J. Eszes
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013
No trick or treaters on the street
they're all in bed now, getting sleep,
Candies piled high upon the floor
collected from each neighbor's door,
Smoke rises from the pumpkin's grin
the day's magic still burns within,
Restless spirits are set free to roam
and find their way back to home,
An earthly reunion until the sun rises
with those who've met their demises,
It's time for October's farewell scene
on the final night of Halloween,
The harvest moon is setting low
opposite the rising sun's gentle glow,
Wandering souls leave us for another year
and say goodbye and shed a tear,
Because, they surely miss us, too
their tears become the morning dew,
To stain the leaves a shining gold
and welcome in wet November's cold.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015
She writes her songs and her poems,
not one person know 'em.
She listens to the sound of her music,
she's stuck to it like a tick.
If someone took the time to listen,
her true colors would glisten.
She's put on a mask,
and hid everything when someone asked.
She was the type of girl who would always laugh,
making you wish it would last.
She was the type of girl who would smile the day away,
too bad it is no longer that way.
She is now the girl who is depressed,
I bet you're impressed.
Since no one could tell
that she was going through hell.
Everyone thought she was happy,
when really, she felt crappy.
Everyone thought she was having the time of her life,
who would have guess her best friend was a knife?
She spent her days alone,
she seemed to do everything on her own.
Never once wanted help.
Thought she could do everything herself.
Then the day came,
when she lost the game.
She fell apart,
and everyone saw her broken heart.
They saw the way she overreacted.
Oh, if only you saw the way she acted.
She bruised herself, scratched herself, and made herself bleed,
no one knew what it was that she needed.
They saw her tears,
and that was what she feared.
They found out she wasn't okay,
oh, she hated that day.
Everyone found out about her secret,
and she wish they'd just forget,
but she knew they couldn't,
and that they wouldn't.
She left that town and started over,
no one knew she went undercover.
She said she got better,
when really... something else occurred.
She secretly hurt herself,
and walked away from help.
Everyone thought she recovered,
when really, she was undercover.
She secretly wanted to get worse,
no one knew of course.
No one cared to ask,
if she was wearing her mask.
Now it's too late,
she locked the gate.
everyone had forgotten she needed help.
Goodbye cold world,
this was a story of a girl
who once loved everyone
then feared who it was who won.
Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013
The moon so bold seems cold
with a halo of midnight glow
I sit mesmerized as the night grows old.
I bleed still, even after all these years
and I wait again through the night
aching in the depths of my soul
that no other seems to know
the Loneliness that has become my companion.
In the darkness we wait and confide in the other
our deepest fears as memories fade
in and out each season of change
the nostalgia tempers the wars of pain
this tempestuous foe of ours
wails at the gates of midnight
howling the warble of humanities last grace.
How the comfort of minds and hearts
turn from light to deep dark in the face
of eternities long time clock...
I ache with wanting, with need and passion
it is a lie that time heals and wounds scar
each night is fresh like the first
when I faced realities shock.
Who can wait with me?
Who can hold this hound at bay?
Who can cherish what little love left in me
and make the broken whole?
I ache to be loved again as the love that burns
and waits inside of me.
Who can comfort this emptiness and fill the void
that so many leavings have left?
Cherish and love to honor and protect
but who can slay these demons that hold my heart in wrath?
Who will walk the sulfur clouds of hell to save my mind
and deliver my world to the gates of heaven
with life, not death bridging the distance of pain?
I sit and wait at the floor of the moon each night
waiting for that bridge to carry me yonder,
this moon who hangs heavy and ripe with the yearning of my soul
with clouds aglow as if I could sweep them across a canvas
with the brush held in your hand
I rage at her as I wait, but still I wait and weep
as Loneliness and I keep each others company
wishing the clouds of that great moon could truly create
a way to find the lost, a pathway to home, lit by the legacy our love.
Copyright © tara jennings | Year Posted 2013
We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time
hearing the news before most of the World did
He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected
He had loves and passions from many places
deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
Not only did he love music and inspire all
He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul
The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened
It was John Denver's plane that went down
Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial
So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
always in loving memory
OH babe , do we hate you go ~
Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
"Leaving on a Jet Plane "
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
That night locking
Her away with a kiss;
Her soul captured by his spirit,
She waits -
For the spirit
To light her pitch-black days;
To breathe into her missing nights;
Traditional style cinquain: syllable count: 2/4/6/8/2
for the Cinquain Contest of Dr.Ram Mehta (theme: Longing)
Copyright © hija de la luna | Year Posted 2014
The Iraqi desert was blowing wind
The bullet tore into my heart
My Commander, she had but one arm
She pulled me to the ground
Holding me tight she saw
I would not make the night
So she did what any lover would
She held me tight
Whispered, "soldier I am with you till the end"
My last thought
Was I died in her arm
As her tears drops mixed with mine
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
Life is birth
Life is death
Life is pain
Life is love and love lost
Life is a journey to your death
So paint many pictures
Cherish many memories
Celebrate good cheer
You’ll be dead soon enough
Meaningless as the random birth of a star
That will only later explode in red blood
Life will toss you a smile or two
A warm moment, or Monet, who cares
Only to steal it back from you
So why bother with this tedious journey
Towards the ultimate darkness of a cold cold death
I will tell you why
It’s for that one kiss
The one chance
To hold love in your arms
To taste lustful youth
We are born for that
We kill for it
We die regardless of it
So let me do this one act
This one symbolic gesture
I toss to you a dozen red roses
Along with my heart
My love was always there
All you had to do was reach out
Why oh why
Fear a fool such as I
Whom for one kiss
I would surely die
If only I could complete your heart
For a new lovers start
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014