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Diana Morales Poem
Dedicated to my dearest youngest sister,
Happy Birthday Lucy (May 31)
Age of novice years,
a glow of purity along
with a smile of innocence,
born with a tiny frame yet
exuded an ultimate
presence.
A light like no other,
tremendous capability,
but how so?
In a sky of darkness,
you are a tiny dot of
bright light surrounded
by ones of a larger
proportion that casts
a shadow over your
glow,
Yet you maintain
that simple overlooked
shine of yours as
it continues to grow.
Amongst the great
you become steadfast,
releasing
the wisdom gifted
to you.
A nightlight in
the shadows you
become, bringing
comfort,
a tiny dot,
the biggest heart,
The Youngest Light.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Grown apart
we became after
a long while,
Remember those days?
Daily talks upon hours,
endless laughter,
countless stories,
shared struggles,
emotional break-
throughs,
as we both sit next
to each other in
silence.
I always remember
my best buddy,
the one who saw
me when others
left without looking
twice and held my
hand with genuine
love.
A rare gem, one of its kind
The time continues to
pass us on,
memories sealed
in a photograph of
black and white,
your smile for-
ever imprinted
on my mind,
as the years tick
one two three,
in a blink of an eye,
you’re gone…
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Lord knows the Devil
I encountered. Hidden
hypocrisy swayed naivety I
exuded. Smiling with grace but
crossing betrayal behind your
back while holding my hand with
the other. Delicate melodies of grace strumming
along inconspicuous quos while feeding
me with Eden’s fruit hung in God’s hand.
Mirages of desolated oases surrounded you,
A pity fool I became at your wits playing
me instead. Awakened clarity
in one bite-filled rage,
thank you bold face
snake. Now, I live
my life in
gratitude.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
People ask
as they wonder,
what holds
you? Is it
fear? Is it
doubt? Is it
distrust? or is it
all or
neither?
A flower is brought
into this world amidst
chaos
unknowingly
what it may
encounter yet
it remains
pure.
Confined by
discourtesy
trickled by
irregularities
lured by
fallacies yet
stands still as
nature's
gift
as it
shimmers
brightly.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Flames that ignites
bright red at its core,
ravenous hunger linger
overwhelmed by its
hot desire and through
the night it burns,
its visible heat scorches
the skin of its next victim,
leaving a mark of sole
ownership, it kisses
endearingly seducing
in enchantment,
torturous feeling reigns
in a field of thrones caused
by a leakage of subtle
attraction,
a rose in its prime curves
and twists along these
spikes being
tormented,
suffocated,
coddled violently,
but its beautiful sight continues
to call the
Master of Silver Tongue,
Eyes of Lust and Passion
sways its prey shackling
its heart for a moment
of pleasure.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
An empty room filled
with silence,
I want to remain,
I want to dream more.
The wind pushes
the window wide
open filling the room,
no longer empty;
yet, nobody’s there,
dark, cold, empty,
middle of nowhere on top
of a hill. I can't fly
like the flower petals over
there. I step outside,
and lay on grass under
a sky filled with stars.
Maybe I can't
reach the sky, but
I want to stretch
my hand out
and still try.
The stars remain eternal.
As I walk north,
I continuously walk
among this darkness.
My happy memories haunt
me and question my
choices. I too wonder
what will become
of me, yet
I still want to struggle,
not knowing
which path to take,
I now consider this
my fate,
times of sink or swim,
life surrounded
by hardships, but
I cannot give up,
this is my fight.
Maybe I can never fly
to the sky of stars far
out of my reach, but
I still want to try.
Its only night,
the morning always
comes,
a long journey awaits me.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Running towards
self driven passion,
I rock the boat filled
with past anchors,
and I tied them down
with beckoning ropes,
inviting dear life
to resist the restraints
placed by overbearing
mothers and fathers.
Contusions earned
by pondering along
rapid waves but
the breeze is mutual
as I welcome all
that comes my way.
No longer caught
in the nets of
imprisonment,
I set sail letting go,
without holding back,
as life is a tidal wave
carrying you across
back and forth
to destinations
unknown,
forthcoming
endlessly.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Crazy how past
days weighs
heavily on each
raindrop passing
by, as a train
token in the abyss,
it sinks deeper
subconsciously,
i reminisce,
careful thoughts
glide over ice,
paradise is not
enough to suffice
the wreckage
that ensued under
the night sky,
mind afloat
in the flood of
broken hopes,
staying above
not wanting
to drown,
gazing upward,
it persists,
clenching it's fists
it insists
to seek
help through
the mist,
as raindrops
carry time shops
to swap eternity
when it stops.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
(Dedication to Starry Night by Van Gogh, 1889)
Sometimes I find it difficult
to express myself to others.
I've grown accustomed to silence,
with my thoughts racing
lying down at night,
I look at myself and say,
"Who am I to this world?"
Turbulent skies and clouds
with no destination spends
hours awake through the nights
waiting for the dawn as the stars
hide behind its shapeless
soul, then I say,
"Who are you to this world?"
The stars tremble as they hear
the winds in motion, its voice
culminates them causing its simple
nature to shine past the dark void,
as the night draws a path straight
to my empty room,
strong is the light but delicate
are the shoulders that bear
the ungrateful for their daily indifference.
I sail between them to receive
and to endure their hardships,
I ask, "Where are you going?”
I drop an anchor in the center
where the voices of many reach
that don't go beyond a sigh
and I wait, clinging to their hopes.
Perhaps you will see me
the closer I climb to you,
and at last be able to sleep
alongside the forever
hope filled bones and stones.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Outside the trees are called
by the Autumn’s breeze.
The door isn’t perfectly shut
as the leaves seep through
the uneven cracks.
The whistling tune from
Nature’s broken karaoke
machine finds its way under
the door. Slowly the shadows
become dimmer as the morning
sun sets in and the birds begin
to chirp as the crickets causes
a ruckus enough to wake
the subconscious mind from
sleeping internally.
The couch as always hard
as a stone bruising my arms
and legs as I flail finding rest,
but consistently remains
courteous as my only true
companion who knows
me and my heart, becoming
a good friend. The bells
chime, the cars honk,
the sounds of the people
marching to and from
their next destination.
As I step outside with
my messy hair, bad breath,
blurry vision, I take a glance
and the air greets me,
another daybreak awaits.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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