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Best Poems Written by Abby Pe

Below are the all-time best Abby Pe poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Abby Pe Poem

My Secret Angel

Where do you stay in the day?
Like the moon in a mid-morning sky.
My hidden angel where do you fly?
You are always there by my side.
Everyday you whisper your secrets to me.
How sweet. How kind.
My secret angel.
Where do you hide your wings?
or do you perfer to soar free?
My little angel,
so gentle and curiouse,
how would you fair without me?
Beautiful angel
so careing and strong,
never do you stop to frown.

My little angel where did you go?
why did you fly home on those hidden wing,
to leave me behind?
My secret angel,
why did you stop breathing?
My sad little angel,
why were you taken from me?
When did your smile slip from your face?
Dear beautiful angel,
so kind and caring,
do you watch over me,
from your perch in the sky?
My little angel,
Why did you have to die?

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The Dread Clock

The clock ticks away
ever so slowly.
Weeping in impatient silence
thinking of the far future.
Tainting your heart with waiting dread.
The clock zooms by
its face mocking,
the fun times shinning.
Watching as it ticks away
Filling, once again, your heart with dread
Ticking as we wait
so slow, ever so slow.
Passing as we pray
"slow down for a time,
let me live these moments." we say
The clock continues to
to zoom on by,
filling our hearts for a final time
with quaking dread.
Mocking all that goes by
is the clock.
As time passes by.

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Bloody Flower

You guide all when time ends,
Taking our sorrow into yours.
Chained in thorns,
You’re forced to strike.
Bloody little flower,
Cloaked in a dark cape,
You pull us into the darkness eternal.
Drown us in your tears,
Shed for deeds left undone,
Anger of injustice,
Sadness of lost love,
And the regrets of times long gone.
How I pity you Bloody flower,
As you’re forced to strike,
A slave of life,
You take care of its mess.
How small you are under that cape,
retched with darkness eternal.
How did you come to such a place,
Clothed in a dress of blood?
Bloody Flower,
You have seen our regrets,
 the wars we’ve chosen,
and the sins we no longer care to hide.
How innocent you really are,
As you pull back your arm to strike,
Chained by thorns,
You weep for me.
Drown me in your tears,
Guide me,
Take me deep inside your cape,
Into a darkness eternal.

Details | Abby Pe Poem

Silent Perfection

Falling in wretched silence
taunting us with perfection,
that we may never see.
Flaws invisible,
in a cool winter night.
The moon
like a ghost in the sky.
Not a sound rings with the wind,
falling in beautiful silence.
Covering the dead
in a pale sheet
as the night passes
in a mourning silence.
Waiting for the rising sound
waiting to glisten and dance
before our eyes.
To bring a shimmer of perfection
to our world filled with sound
perfection comes in silence.

Details | Abby Pe Poem

My Flower

My little flower
why do you weep
in your perfect existence?
Did you finally relies the corruption at the ties?
My silly sorrowful flower
I weep with you,
for your perfectly misguided existence.
Why did you choose to bloom
in such wretched soil?
My little flower
why do you weep?
Why do you search for corruption
when all is well it seems.
Silly little flower all you will find
is a heart full of ache.
So I too will cry
as your final bloom
ends with your perfectly misguided existence.
My little flower
I know for whom you weep,
As my tears are returned to me.
Silly little flower,
why do you weep for me?

Details | Abby Pe Poem

Music Box Melody

Lay your head down on my chest,
What do you hear?
The music box melody.
Wind it up,
With just a kiss 
Just a touch,
And hear the music that pours through.
I hear it always,
Whenever I say your name,
Or You call mine,
And time just  seems to fly by.
Do you see it when I smile?
When I laugh with the melody?
Listen with your ear to my heart.
Can you hear it?
Can you wind it up,
With a smile?
With a hug?
Wind up to play,
The Music Box Melody.

Details | Abby Pe Poem

Child Games

Counting with hidden eyes,
Holding hands, spinning singing,
Chasing, tagging
In warm summer days.
Can’t you remember?
Loved child games.
When did the never ending game end?
When did the days pass faster?
When did we grow too old,
For child games?
When did dinner come sooner?
With no time to play,
What did we do?
Forget our child games
Hidden in memories,
Always there when needed,
Are our child games.

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Stars

Dear Stars
Why do you shoot through the sky?
Off in a rush to a place so far.
Why do I make promises only to you?
Never do you judge or speak harshly,
Of my sins of the passed days.
Only do you shine down on me,
With such caring light.
I make my promise to you.
Someday when the stars are bright,
And thousands of them shoot through the sky,
When the trees whisper of the future
When no more tears are shed,
When love means something again,
Will I join the stars as they dance in your eyes.
Truly that is the only time,
I will willingly leave your side.
Until then I never want to stop gazing,
Into the stars of your eyes.

Details | Abby Pe Poem

Willow Dreamer

Brushing past,

gentle cold fingers,

silent in a summer breeze.

The shelter a welcome relife

to a soul never deceased.

Blinking away time

and singing a mourning song

is the victim of an endless crime,

a weeping soul,

under a weeping willow.

Details | Abby Pe Poem

Forest of Fields

Dodging Whispering shadows,
meeting golden eyes
peering from the hallows.
Dancing with the late birds cry.
Jumping from star to star,
relishing the untainted light.
Wading in the fields, ceaseless so far.
Creasing with the moon out of sight,
casting a graceful light.
A sad tune whispers on the wind,
from a forest of fields.
How far will you go for that sad tune?
Speaking of a broken heart dreadfully sinned,
of a lesson learned much too soon.
Turn back child of innocence!
Turn back to the fields of sleep,
away from the forest of tears
shattered with cracks so deep.
Run from that sad tune!
Bound to your future of mirrors,
shield your heart,
small child,
from the fruit of the forest of fields
that ripen with the slaughter of innocence!
Before your heart has a chance
to crack, to break
echoing in the lonely silence of the forest of fields.