Best Roof Poems

*I Will Cry*

If this world really mattered,
Why does it bleed?

I could tell you how much I love you,
But, that will never heal the pain.
I am...

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Frozen flames pressed between each sheet
I flip every page while taking notes
Censoring every event in my past 
I fall deep when staring at the painting...

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Where the sound of the wind whistled through the cracks in the walls and the door-sills where pots collected rain beneath a leaky roof where...

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I shall resolve to leave this
Place now...
And steadfastly search out,
Nestling between ridge and bluff
Amidst the folds of a foreign 
Land,
Several acres of unkempt ground
Fallow and...

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I saw the bitter tears of unhappiness
Running down your agonizing face,
Ravaged with pain,

And I became a sponge of compassion
To absorb them.


I heard the howling 
Of...

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We'd laid old George to rest the week before,
at ninety-one he now rejoined his wife,
no heirs to his estate, so one thing more
to do, and...

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Give thanks if you're healthy
  And give thanks if you're not;
Make sure to appreciate
  Whatever it is that you've got.
Just be grateful, my...

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The cold hand of Winter swiftly approaches
Its breath etches frost on my windowpanes
Nearer my threshold, Death now encroaches  

Blood is slowly chilling inside my...

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'Twas a sound I thought alarming, most assuredly disarming;
Up I rose from peaceful slumber to discern what it might be.
While my candle flickered, wavered; whilst...

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YOU ARE GOD and I HAVE TO BELIEVE


My dear Father God above the heavens high
ever loving and ever faithful in loving me
even though, I am...

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As this week closes into hours of pewter night
may the moonlight touch your lips while
I sleep in the arms of dreams unrefined.
Though I may not...

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Who knows if magic exists,
if dreams come true
and whether miracles take place
(all of these things we thought we knew)

... buried in our haste
to dig childhood's...

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A violent scene lay before me
Huddled in death, there’s Ella, Mary-belle, everywhere I could see
Swollen tongues, sunken eyes, frail bodies strewn in the hot powdery...

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Jesus’s love matters when the garden of eden turns to grey,
The fertile ferns frown as spirituality has been driven away…
A rosette reverence redeems within the...

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(The memories are simple, living the feeling significant)

After conquering Beamsley Beacon due Southwest,
Rombald’s moor stood, while for centuries
within the valley the minute dwellings
of grey stone,...

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