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Best Poems Written by Madison Power

Below are the all-time best Madison Power poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Madison Power Poem

Your Shadow With A Tail

I remember when your laughter
Was a light across the floor—
Sun spilling from your mouth,
Feet dancing through the door.
But now the house is quiet,
And your eyes don’t meet mine.
You sit, unmoving, breathing,
Like a clock that lost its time.

I nudge your hand in silence,
Bring my leash, then bring it back,
But you just stare through windows,
Watching days fade into black.
So I lie beside your shadow,
My nose against your knee,
And listen to your heartbeat
Like it’s whispering to me.

I don’t know all your sorrows,
Just the weight they leave behind.
But I can curl against the ache
You’re too tired now to find.
I’ll guard you through the midnight,
I’ll stay when morning breaks.
Even if you never move,
I'll never walk away.

The bowl sits empty longer,
The walks are few and slow.
I wait beside the doorway
For a world you used to know.
I miss the fields, the laughter,
The trails we used to roam—
But more than all the running,
I just want you to come home.

You feed me though your hands shake,
You speak though words are few.
And though I can't fix broken things,
I’ll share what's left with you.

So take your time, my human.
I'll wait here—soft and still.
For when you're ready to return,
I’ll love you harder still.

Details | Madison Power Poem

Orders

War
Is loud.
But inside,
I am quiet—
Counting every breath.
Mud clings like old regrets.
Smoke writes names across the sky.
I don’t remember why we came,
Just the look in my captain’s tired eyes.
We move forward. That’s the only command.

Details | Madison Power Poem

Ballad Of Her Moonlit Tune

"The stars beckoned her song to reach the crescent moon"

In a quiet glade where the willows weep,
And fireflies dance as the world finds sleep,
A girl with cheeks like a rosy bloom
Would sing to the stars by the silver moon.

Her hair was long, like a raven’s flight,
It shimmered soft in the hush of night.
Her skin was pale as the lily’s grace,
And love lit warm in her round-cheeked face.

Though others stared, she never knew
That beauty comes in more than view.
Her voice, a bell so soft and pure,
Could stir the hearts of rich and poor.

The stars beckoned her song to reach the crescent moon,
They shimmered brighter with each gentle tune.
The breeze would hush to hear her sing,
And owls would hush mid ghostly wing.

She sang of dreams that never tire,
Of humble hearts and secret fire,
Of love not bought, of skies not torn,
Of joy in dusk and peace in morn.

Each night she stood by the mossy stone,
And though she stood so oft alone,
The heavens heard her lullaby
And wept sweet tears across the sky.

One night, the moon, in gentle swoon,
Slid lower just to catch her tune.
It kissed her face with argent light,
And held her song in velvet night.

And from that hour, the woods would say—
Though she grew old and passed away—
That if you walk where she once stood,
You'll hear her song drift through the wood.

So if you find your soul in gloom,
Let music rise and sorrow swoon—
For the stars still beckon every tune
To dance its way to the crescent moon.

Details | Madison Power Poem

Crayon Box Dreams

Once, colours bloomed beneath my fingertips,
A world alive in every waxy line.
With careless joy, I painted paper ships
And skies where suns and silver moons would shine.

Each shade, a song of summers never gray,
Of laughter loud, of barefoot, grassy trails.
But now those hues have slowly slipped away,
Replaced by ticking clocks and grown-up tales.

The red of courage fades to aching rust,
And blue now weeps where wonder used to live.
What age has gained, it took with quiet trust;
A trade I made, too blind then to forgive.

Yet still I dream in crayon-coloured light,
Of days unspoiled and hearts that held me tight.

Details | Madison Power Poem

clean and cut open

sober now,
and every second screams louder than the last.
the silence i begged for
now drips like acid through my spine.

when i was high, 
the world floated —
hazy, dull-edged, 
a soft lie i could breathe in.
without choking on memory.
without shaking from truth.

but now i wake up
to light too sharp for eyes that have seen too much,
and sleep with shadows that whisper
every name i try to forget.

they say this is healing.
they say pain is proof i'm alive.
but if this is life — 
raw, bleeding,
a wound i carry like a badge —
then maybe i liked dying better.

i miss the numbness.
i miss the nothing.
it was kinder
than this endless parade
of remembering 
everything
i ever did
just to feel okay.

Details | Madison Power Poem

Blood Type: O-verwhelmingly Lonely

By moonlit nights, I prowl with grace,
No mirror shows my pale, sharp face.
Stake through heart? Please, not today—
I dodge those stakes and run away.

Garlic bread? You think I'll drool?
I've got a stash behind the stool.
Sunlight's foe? A mild complaint,
Sunscreen 50 is my saint.

I drink your blood, but don't take fright—
It's just a snack to get me right.
No veins harmed, I swear, no mess,
Just need my iron, I confess!

Yet deep inside this fangy guise,
Loneliness behind my eyes.
Immortal curse, eternal night,
A shadow lost without the light.

So laugh at myths of vampire dread,
But think of all the tears I've shed.
I'm just a feature of the night,
Trying to keep my teeth polite.

I tried to date on Tinder once,
But "Undead" marked me as a dunce.
They matched, then screamed, then blocked my chat,
Just 'cause I asked, "May I taste that?"

Details | Madison Power Poem

Cherry Red

Cherries stain her fingers bright,
Deep and dark as midnight wine.
She pops them slow between her lips,
Her smile lazy, soft, divine.

The window's cracked to summer air,
The city sighing, fast asleep.
She smokes and laughs, her lashes low,
Her secrets folded warm and deep.

The cigarette burns slow and thin,
Forgotten in her careless hand;
I lean to kiss the cherry taste
And feel her breathing where I stand.

Her teeth are gentle on my skin,
Her lips a quiet, glowing spark;
She bites, she soothes, she bites again—
The night is soft, the hour dark.

The clock has stilled, the world is far,
Just cherry pits and curling smoke.
The moon is pale against the glass,
And every kiss a promise spoke.

We stay until the sky turns gray,
Our shoulders bare, our feet entwined,
And every cherry, every kiss,
Is sweet and slow and wholly mine.

Details | Madison Power Poem

Bitter Grounds

Her breath was warm with coffee and sin,
Laced dark on my tongue, sharp and thin;
A bitter taste clung to the curve of her smile,
As dawn broke, trembling, and silent awhile.

Her hands, soft thieves, curled 'round my waist,
Stealing the quiet I longer to taste;
The sheets smelled of dusk, of cinnamon's ghost,
Of promises lost, of love turned to toast.

I drank her sighs like morning's first brew,
Scalding my throat with what I knew—
That her heart beat fast for someone unseen,
A shadow between us, quiet and lean.

Her laughter cracked like porcelain light,
Fragile and fierce in the hollow night.
I traced her spine with hesitant grace,
A map of regrets carved into place.

She whispered lies in a voice so sweet
That they curled like sugar dissolving in heat;
I swallowed each one, choking it down,
A queen undone, stripped of her crown.

Coffee-stained lips brushed mine again,
Tasting of sorrow, of pleasure, of pain.
I kissed her deep, kissed her to keep
The ache of losing, the weight of sleep.

Her collarbone gleamed like brittle glass,
A breakable thing too sharp to pass.
I pressed my mouth where secrets burned,
Forgetting the lessons I never learned.

She smiled like dusk—too quick, too brief,
A flicker of grace, a sliver of grief.
I held her close as the morning broke,
Breathing the words I never spoke.

Outside, the rain stitched songs of despair,
Gray threads that tangled in midnight hair;
Her hands in mine felt cold, unsure—
A tremble of guilt I could not cure.

And so we kissed, the taste of sin
Clinging to tongues, dark and thin;
Coffee and lies, heat and regret—
A bitter blend I'll never forget.

For what is love but a fleeting crime,
Stolen in sips, and lost to time?

Details | Madison Power Poem

Point Of No Return

They said the sun would rise again,
But not how red it burns at dawn—
A bleeding orb above the hills,
Where shadows march and boys are drawn.

We kissed our mothers’ hands goodbye,
The station rang with rust and steam.
Our boots were new, our hearts unscarred,
Still halfway clinging to a dream.

The sergeant’s voice was gravel-rough,
It ground the child from out our skin.
He spoke of duty, blood, and soil,
And drew the line we crossed within.

Mud clings like guilt to every heel,
A second skin of broken earth.
We carve our names in trenches deep,
And pray they’ll mark our measure's worth.

The sky is bruised with smoke and fire,
Each star now stares with hollow eyes.
The moon looks pale, ashamed to shine
On fields where innocence now lies.

I saw a man who looked like me—
His helmet split, his fingers curled.
He mouthed a name I couldn’t catch
Before he left this iron world.

And yet we charge when bugles scream,
Like leaves thrown into God’s own flame.
We hold the line for those behind,
Though none of us return the same.

At night, I write in trembling ink,
To someone I may never see.
"Dear Ma," it starts, then bleeds with truth—
Your boy is gone, but still I breathe.

This path we tread is paved in bone,
A bitter road of blackened fern.
The wind behind us whispers low;
We’ve passed the point of no return.

Details | Madison Power Poem

The Sound Of Nothing

The silence here is not of peace—
It hums like blood beneath the skin,
A hollow hush that will not cease,
A quiet carved from what has been.

No birds, no breeze. Just broken ground,
And boots that whisper through the dust.
Even echoes fear this sound,
Where dreams break and memories rust.

I used to hear the laughter loud,
My brother's voice, a cigarette spark—
Now silence wears a heavy shroud
And wraps the camp when it turns dark.

It tastes like ash, this voiceless night,
Like letters burnt and prayers gone still.
The stars don't speak. They watch in spite,
And silence marches, cold and shrill.

Best Poems Written by Madison Power

Your Shadow With A Tail

Orders

Ballad Of Her Moonlit Tune

Crayon Box Dreams

clean and cut open

Blood Type: O-verwhelmingly Lonely

Cherry Red

Bitter Grounds

Point Of No Return

The Sound Of Nothing

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