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Diezel Romero Poem
A Mother’s Love tender, sweet
At least that’s what we’re told isn’t it?
To think the one to love us most is nowhere to be found
you scream, you cry but no one answers
Locked in a closet both physically and emotionally
Shackled by the animosity that you didn’t ask for
Yet here, is what you call home.
A home that is neither a haven nor a beacon
A home filled with rage and hatred
And yet, the one you are trapped in...
A faux father welcomes you with arms wide open and fists balled shut,
The hooks he throws aren’t meant for fishing
In times like these you’re reminded of a mothers love as she looks the other way,
Forsaken by the one meant to exalt you
And still, you couldn’t bear to apostate her
A Mother’s Love callous, and bitter
That’s the truth that we aren’t told isn’t it?
Copyright © Diezel Romero | Year Posted 2019
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Diezel Romero Poem
There has been a murder,
No, not a murder but a suicide
Or was it indeed a murder?
I can not really decide
What is true and what is false,
What has been twisted and lost.
What I do know is that it was gruesome, merciless
The killer came swift and silent
Much like a ghost with no exorcist,
Came with no warning, no lament
Lacked pity, and left all doubts at the door
Destroyed, until the victim was no more.
I just remembered it was, in fact, a murder
The killers name love, and the victim my heart.
Copyright © Diezel Romero | Year Posted 2019
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Diezel Romero Poem
A door slams in my face,
Nose broken and heart shattered
A piece here and a piece there.
As I pick them up they cut my hands
Leave me bleeding and scarred
Denied a love that sustains
And left with mere imitations,
Nothing left to bargain but my body
And yet they steal that too
They steal an innocence and nobility
I knew not that I had.
Hollowed out by brutality and malice
Made into a shell of the man I once was,
An empty cocoon that didn't bear a butterfly
And yet I can't help but dream of one day taking flight.
Copyright © Diezel Romero | Year Posted 2019
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Diezel Romero Poem
“The man” sits alone on the cold steel metro bench,
Staring out the window he watches as he passes the world by, or was it the other way?
He couldn’t remember,
Where was his stop again? His destination?
“The man” couldn’t remember at all
As he peels his eyes from the window he realizes the cart has been empty all along,
Panic sets in, reaching for the doors “the man” tears them apart.
He’s met with an abyss that promises of happiness, content, and bliss,
As the man begins to take the leap he sees also the possibility of sadness, tragedy, and poverty.
He takes a step back and gently closes the doors,
He returns to his seat,
Turns his head toward the window,
And again goes back to watching the world pass him by.
Copyright © Diezel Romero | Year Posted 2020
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