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Baneta Taylor Poem
As I sit and watch the sun settle down,
I think of life in itself.
I think about the ups and downs,
I think about the better and the worse.
As I sit and watch the sun say its final goodbyes,
I think about the way things used to be.
I think about what it means to be me,
I think about why things happen the way they do.
As I sit and watch the sun disappear beyond the horizon,
I know what I want in life.
I want to be the me that I've always been,
I want to be the me that believes in God.
As I sit and watch the darkening sky,
I feel that I have faith.
I feel that life is renewed,
I feel like me.
Copyright © Baneta Taylor | Year Posted 2009
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Baneta Taylor Poem
Sitting under a full moon
I begin to think
I think about how lucky the moon is
Sitting high in the midnight sky
Not a worry in the world
I think about what it would be like to be the moon
I light up the night sky
To emit my glow and energy upon the world
Lighting the way for those seeking home
Then, I begin to wonder
I wonder what the moon sees
Does it see how we hurt one another?
Does it see the pain we go through?
Does it see me the way I see me?
I wonder what it hears
Does it hear the vulgarity?
Does it hear the prayers?
Does it hear the silence?
Sitting under the full moon
I start to watch
I watch the moon in the sky
I watch the night pass me by
I watch as the moon stares back
Just sitting under the full moon
I stare and it stares back
Emitting its glow and energy upon the world
I sit and listen
I listen to the moon tell its story
It has my undivided attention
We sit and we talk
Under the full moon
Copyright © Baneta Taylor | Year Posted 2025
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Baneta Taylor Poem
In my struggle for life I long
I long to be free
In my struggle for life I feel
I feel like a prisoner
Never to escape this place
With its blackened walls
And destroyed floors
Torture and struggle
I hate this place
With its crumbling rooftop
And its battered doors
I cry
I cry nonstop
I beg for forgiveness
Though I didn't do anything wrong
I still beg
In my life I wake
I wake in my own waste
Can this really be what life is about?
Locked in this damnation of a room
With its yellowed windows
And its tarnished doorknobs
Why don't they love me?
Why do they hide me?
What did I do to deserve this life?
Who am I?
I despise this place
With its bad memories
Again I cry
I cry for them and for myself
I learned
I learned to be my own everything
I have no one
Locked in this place they call home
I just want to be free
Copyright © Baneta Taylor | Year Posted 2025
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