“How are you going today?” you ask,
“Fine” I said…. I lied.
I’m not going to tell you any time soon,
Just how empty I am inside,
And I show you the little show I perform,
By hiding away the real me,
All you see is my smile, a simple small grin,
You see what I want you to see,
But what you don’t see is my poem,
My poem that’s written in tears,
The poem that’s smudged to a bleary old daze,
The poem I’ve written for years,
How everyone thinks I have it together,
I’m the life, the fun, I’m the spark,
But, behind these blue eyes, I’m lonely as hell,
How my ME is falling apart.
Smudged shadow
Cold to touch
This aching sorrow
I see too much
Smudged shadow
Carrying the weight of war
A soldier, a woman
Now nothing more
Smudged shadow
Ghostly stare
Eyes of ice
I see you there
Smudged shadow
Through the pane
Your evil presence
Does remain
Smudged shadow
I ask of you
You haunt my life
What am I to do?
Smudged shadow
In day or night
In rain or wind
You stand to fight
Smudged shadow
You call my name
I know you'll orchestrate
The end of my game
As a vermillion Sun feigns its death,
daylight acquiesces to Night's might.
And with a propensity for red,
Sol colors clouds, cerise, and crimson.
Day dwindles, as flashing fireflies set
twinkling lights flickering on the scene.
And an austere, featureless landscape
morphs into a field of pixie dust.
Nature imbues the Night with subtle
scents of honeysuckle and wild rose.
And a mix of exotic odors,
of lesser-known, more infamous plants.
Contrary to popular belief,
stinging nettles bear scented flowers.
And as their fragrant blossoms open,
they release a pleasant aroma.
A gold filigree moon gilds the waves,
as moonbeams dance on rippled waters.
And dark silhouettes, like smudged shadows,
merge: within Night's ebony embrace.
Now published at tankajournal.com
Inspired by Chris'tanka contest ~Now, for the contest :)
I don’t think he sees me through clear eyes
My heart is lonely and my soul feels his lies
His anger grows deep within his soul
Marching like an enemy toward his foes
Listening was never one of his better traits
He hears what he wants and alters fate
His kisses aren’t warm on my lips like before
His arms leave me longing for something more
He stole all the trust and left me alone
Though he is right here it’s like no one is home
My history is smudged and I feel the blame
Everyday as he points out my shame
His is tarnished though he’s like a book
His love keeps me dangling on this hook
I wait for him to see the whole of me
But many a day I just wish to be free
Responsibilities of children and home
This woman is tired of doing it alone
I know he is here but it’s left up to me
Why can’t he help me, why can’t he see?
Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
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