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Best Poems Written by Lily Ravelo

Below are the all-time best Lily Ravelo poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Lily Ravelo Poem

A Gift That Keeps On Giving

I scream at the sky,
Waiting, anticipating an answer, 
Like you are Jesus and I am your disciple. 
Willing to do anything, just to get that sign that you’re still out there. 

Some days my faith starts to wonder, 
Your face starts to get blurry,
And I wonder if it’s because you’re starting to forget me
Or if I’m starting to forget you. 

Other days, I see your face in the clearest skies,
I feel your presence in the dullest moments,
And I remember that
You are a gift that keeps on giving, even if you’re not in the present.

Details | Lily Ravelo Poem

Now That You'Re Gone

I take you everywhere,
I show you all of my beauty,
All of my hurt.
You can’t tell me not to. 
Now that you’re gone. 

I’m never really alone,
You’re always there,
Influencing me.
I can’t tell you not to.
Now that you’re gone.

You’re my stalker,
And I can’t do anything about it,
Now that you’re gone.

Details | Lily Ravelo Poem

Died For You

You took me to the meadows to pick flowers,
how was I supposed to know about the thorns?
Every flower I picked,
Down went a drop of blood.
 -Your smile eased my pain.

You didn't get pricked once,
But I was only happy you're okay.
Your smile tended to my wounds as they could,
But I had already lost too much blood.
 -Your smile eased my pain.

Now, I live in the meadows,
Forever reminiscing about the time we spent here.
Forever drowning in my own blood.
 -Your smile eased my pain.

Details | Lily Ravelo Poem

A Poem, By Death

I promise you've got it all wrong.
You hate me, but you don't know me.
You're afraid of me, but you've never even seen me.
You make me ashamed of who I am,
I'm just doing as I've been told.

I promise you've got it all wrong.
I hurt for you, and the ones you've lost,
I care for the ones you've lost.
You just haven't taken the time to know me.

You try to forget about me,
Why?
What have I done to you?

Details | Lily Ravelo Poem

A Proper Goodbye

You left, without a proper goodbye
Leaving me terrified of what comes next.
Is it beautiful?
Everything they make it out to be?
Why didn't you take me with you?

You left, without a proper goodbye
Now I will forever have a  you  shaped hole in my heart.
     -You didn't know you would leave me like this

Details | Lily Ravelo Poem

Flowers, A Poem About Death

You got me flowers last week,
The petals started to wilt and fall yesterday,
–So I carefully glued them back on.
Despite my best effort, they continued to die. 
No amount of humanely love and care can keep them alive, 
From the time they first sprout to the time they bloom,
Their fate is predetermined. 

You got me flowers last month,
I watched them shrivel away,
But I still can not bring myself to throw them away. 
Their petals cover the middle of the diner table; 
Like a sad circle reminding me of what once was is no longer. 

You got me flowers last year,
I had to get rid of them,
They decomposed completely by the eleventh month and second day.
You asked me if I would like a new bouquet,
All I could think about was how that first petal fell,
How do we continue to get each other flowers knowing they are inescapably going to die after a short life,
How do flowers still grow– 
In the face of death?

Details | Lily Ravelo Poem

My World Is Pure Emotion

My world is pure emotion.
I spend my days crying to the people about things that are out of their control,
My nights crying to the universe as if it would listen and take any pity upon me,
And my dreams crying to the unknown, my own subconscious. 

I look in the mirror and see nothing but a girl,
Someone familiar though,
Almost like a childhood friend who moved away too soon and changed the way that they dress.

I try to reminisce--
But my memories feel more like books I have read,
And I am just another character that the author forgot to flesh out;
Unessential to the plot, forgettable in a sense.

I try to draw--
But what once was a beautiful face
Is now just another set of lifeless figures and forms that I wasted too much time on trying to make "perfect".
And yet the only thing I can see when I look at it are my mistakes--what I would change,
And how someone else would do a much better job at bringing my own concepts to life.

I try to write--
But my words have always felt more like vomit than poetry.
And even if I could, 
Who would care to read it anyway?
It's not like anything I write about holds significance to anyone but myself.
And when I have tried to write to be understood it just feels forced,
Like a baby, trying to fit a cylinder in a square hole over and over again--it was never bound to work in the first place.