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Lenore Ayers-Herbert Poem
This single drop of sorrow,
is loosened with emotion,
hurt, pain and despair released.
Copyright © Lenore Ayers-Herbert | Year Posted 2011
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Lenore Ayers-Herbert Poem
You had your chance to be mine. You wasted the chance. You ran out of time. Now you're
sitting back regretting that, you made the decision to diss me. Jealousy. As he becomes
something you desire to be. Too late for sorry, too late for what if's. Too late to call
me to try and reminisce. Should of taken advantage of the opportunities I gave you. Deep
down you knew I'd always be true. Yet you compared me to, the ones who truly hurt you. And
now I'm through. Moved on with another. Your time is up. We cannot go further....
Copyright © Lenore Ayers-Herbert | Year Posted 2011
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Lenore Ayers-Herbert Poem
A calm day going by so slowly, a dove sits quietly alone in a tree. The sky is bright and
its world is so lonely, its sadness drifts out to the sea. However, through its sadness,
happiness can be see by a sigh, for an unknown creature floats closely by. Over the sea
and from the sunrise, its eyes seem to gleam. It sees the dove and decides to land upon
the tree. With curiosity within its eyes, only such love at first sight lingers memory.
Copyright © Lenore Ayers-Herbert | Year Posted 2011
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Lenore Ayers-Herbert Poem
As many times as I've tried to forget you, I've failed the mission. As many times as I've
cried on those lonely nights without you, you go untouched by our division. Incision. a
knife to the heart, as you pass me by without a blink of an eye or a glance in my
direction. Yet you chivalrously show concern. Confusion burns. my vision's blurred as my
mind screams what do you really want from me?! Words intact by the tongue. Afraid to be
bestowed upon your ears. Will I ever get through to you? Will you ever open up to me? by
revealing your true feelings, no longer claimed as mystery. All I ask of you is to remove
your clouds from my sunny sky, Thus I may fly toward an indubitable direction.
Copyright © Lenore Ayers-Herbert | Year Posted 2011
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Lenore Ayers-Herbert Poem
My name...
My reputation...
it's all the same...
what a shame....
how you try to blacken it....
Spitting venom bit by bit...
To every person you spit in secrecy
They absorb your venomous poison...
Eyes stare and fingers point as I walk...
Through a tunnel of judgement and misconception..
Misunderstood....
They're led in the wrong direction...
They're blinded by it...
Yet looking in my eyes...
Failing to realize....
My mine is strong...
Impossible...
To keep me down for long...
Where all else fails...
I prevail...
Looking ahead...
Never behind...
Never able to corrupt my mind...
Only a matter of time...
Before the ones you once poisoned...
discover the truth...
My name...
My reputation...
It's all the same...
Only in time will the blame...
be maimed to proof....
as Karma's visit is due...
Where as...
the true blackening...
Rested solely upon you...
Copyright © Lenore Ayers-Herbert | Year Posted 2011
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Lenore Ayers-Herbert Poem
Beyond the ocean and over the meadow, inside a little cottage with air so mellow. Lies a
child in a chair next to a broken window, where her mind wonders and her dreams have
settled. A tiny frown upon her tiny face. Her tilted brows sit in a disappointed place.
There are no doors in such a place, and there are no other windows int he old depressing
space. The only way to catch her hopes and her dreams, she must leave this house; though
easy as it seems, she fears what may come from the world outside the broken window. So
much safety in this little cottage makes it hard to let go. All it takes is a bold step,
to be placed in mind and always kept. With sudden outburst she dives out the broken
window, and bolts across the front yard and over the meadow. When she reaches the shore
by the ocean, she collapses by the water and remains without motion. Tears soak her eyes
as her spirit flies. Her heart is free to catch her dreams, that are finally filled with
so much meaning. Therefore, beyond the little cottage with the broken window, and over the
meadow; by the ocean lies a child that cries. Not with pain and sorrow,, but in such hope
for the 'morrow.
Copyright © Lenore Ayers-Herbert | Year Posted 2011
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