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Christopher Schott Sr. Poem
A sadness has come over me,
A darkness has set in;
The search for lone identity,
My patience wearing thin.
With yesteryear behind me,
an new ones yet to come;
I feel I'm blind and cannot see,
no direction to or from.
My quest is here, my time expired,
I set my life a sail;
I'm cold, I'm lonely, and I'm tired,
with this I start to wale.
So with my thoughts I dry my eyes,
and follow twisted winds;
With hope and fervor as my guides,
my journey now begins.
A day gone by and nothing yet,
to tame that which I fear;
My sadness I cannot forget,
its' voice is all I hear.
The darkness still upon me,
My course I cannot find;
And so I drift amid the sea,
In weakened state of mind.
Copyright © Christopher Schott Sr. | Year Posted 2015
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Christopher Schott Sr. Poem
The morning sun crests the auburn sky,
The green grass glistens with dew;
The lover sits and ponders why,
should give the heart for True;
And when the sun looms high,
The morning dew be gone;
The lover bids the heart to sigh,
should two become as one;
The sun to set in yonder west,
as dusk the moon shall rise;
The lover seeks to find the best,
untainted heart, to tell no lies;
The stars have scattered in the sky,
The moon has settled in;
The Lover waits and begins to cry,
for fear they will not win;
And soon the night be done,
and the morning crests again;
The Lover sees that special one,
And happiness sets in;
The sun will set and rise,
and the tides will ebb and flow;
And the Lovers be together wise,
Until there breath doeth go.
Copyright © Christopher Schott Sr. | Year Posted 2015
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Christopher Schott Sr. Poem
To make it to tomorrow,
I must first get through today;
And with the hardships I must conquer,
Tomorrow seems so far away.
To make it to tomorrow,
I must first get out of bed;
Awaken from a night full of rest,
In hopes to clear my head.
I don myself my work clothes,
And greet the morning sun;
With persistence and resilience,
to see the work gets done.
To make it to tomorrow,
I fight the roaring crowd;
of cars and trucks and buses,
that race with engines loud.
The radio is playing,
The wind blows through my hair;
And with a coffee and some music,
soon I will be there.
Copyright © Christopher Schott Sr. | Year Posted 2015
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Christopher Schott Sr. Poem
The time elapsed, a month gone by,
And nothing yet to show;
The question now is not why,
But how far shall I go.
My fear is growing stronger,
And still I've found no course;
So I ask now, "How much longer"?,
My sorrow is remorse.
So desperate now I raise my eyes,
and call upon His Name;
To wash away my woeful cries,
and help to ease my pain.
For it is in this time of prayer,
That I gather strength at heart;
So my sadness best beware,
That soon it shall depart.
And now it's time to raise my sail,
And take my chosen course;
So that soon I shall prevail,
No sadness, no remorse.
And so I travel faster,
with my enemies behind;
I'm wary of disaster,
So cautious is my MIND.
Copyright © Christopher Schott Sr. | Year Posted 2015
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Christopher Schott Sr. Poem
Eyes surrender to the amber of the morning light
Beguiled and stagnate is the mind from the somber of the night
And again begins the whispers of the voices from ago
And to its torment colorless ignites the thoughts that flow
Questions rise to surface though elusive as the wind does blow
Blood stained hands equate the sign of death as all is lost
It stands the hairs up on end as fear bears all the cost
Lying motionless for days and weeks and even months on end
Waiting in this silent pain in hopes to love again
Watching velvet clouds race by across the azure sky
Blank stare against the landscape and still no answer why
And in all that’s been accomplished and in all the failures cost
Full circle now the consequence is all that has been lost
Approaching near the apex of the mountain of life's climb
Bittersweet divided thoughts in a life that’s out of time
There is no chance to love again, no chance to be reborn
And no hope to gain the strength from that which has been worn
Stagnate is the heart that cries empty like the hollow
No chance to mend regrets and the transgressions that soon did follow
Kinfolk rejection looms especially from the seed
The fractured Soul begins to cry and the heart begins to bleed
No tears left to cry from eyes that cannot cry
For there's no one to embrace as now the heart does sigh
One journey down and one to go as darkness fades the light
And fear and sadness sets the tone as it’s time for final flight
So throughout all this imperfectness the fractured Soul cries out
No options left to make amends or to go a different route
And so the time has come to silent tortured mind
The heart no longer beating has been extinguished at its prime
For hope has since expired and the grave be cold and deep
For it is what it shall be from the life once sowed and now reaped.
Copyright © Christopher Schott Sr. | Year Posted 2022
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Christopher Schott Sr. Poem
The Length of Time
Sometimes it takes the length of time to get us through our life,
And Sometimes it takes a length of time to see us through our strife;
Sometimes it takes the length of time to heal our troubled past,
And Sometimes it takes a length of time to prove that we can last;
Sometimes it takes the length of time to get outside our head,
And Sometimes it takes a length of time to face that which we dread;
Sometimes it takes a length of time to heal our hardened heart,
And Sometimes it takes the length of time to yield a brand new start;
Sometimes it takes the length of time to know what we have lost,
And Sometimes it takes a length of time to know at just what cost;
Sometimes it takes the length of time to wallow through the mire,
And Sometimes it takes a length of time to reach what we desire;
Sometimes it takes the length of time to accept ourselves as whole,
And Sometimes it takes a length of time to heal our shattered soul;
Sometimes it takes the length of time to grasp the reasons that we fell,
And Sometimes it takes a length of time for us to sit and dwell;
Sometimes it takes the length of time to excise memories bad,
And Sometimes it takes a length of time to heal our heart that’s sad;
So to understand the length of time is not for us to know,
So we must cherish all the lengths of time for it is with it we'll grow.
Copyright © Christopher Schott Sr. | Year Posted 2022
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Christopher Schott Sr. Poem
Remember me not in the stillness of my breath,
Remember me not in the sadness of my death;
Instead Remember me in the life we shared together,
And Instead remember me in all that we have weathered;
Remember me not in the quiet of my presence,
Remember me not in the stillness of my essence;
Instead remember me in the moments that we shared,
And instead remember me and know I’ve always cared;
Remember me not in this lifeless mass of skin,
And remember me not as frail and sickly thin;
Instead remember me as you see flowers in the spring,
And instead remember me when you hear my song and sing;
And remember me not in the hours of your grieving,
And remember me not on the day you saw me leaving;
Instead remember me when you are feeling all alone,
And instead remember me and know I am happy that I'm home.
Copyright © Christopher Schott Sr. | Year Posted 2023
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Christopher Schott Sr. Poem
A day, a week, a month, a year,
I've lived it earnestly and with willful cheer;
And thence a darkness settles in,
Mind racing, thoughts raging, no where to begin;
Tethered in my work, my job is all I've got,
I work hard through all the seasons, weathering the cold and hot;
It keeps my mind sharp, and my body just keeps going,
And still my heart continues to have faith in the all knowing;
I pray to Him each day with hopes someone will come,
Into my life, be it, family, friend, or chum;
My body breaking down, my pain I cannot endure,
Yet I still continue working, although I am so sore;
I celebrate the victory that I made it through the day,
With generous libations to ease the pain and help me wane away;
And thence I sit and ponder why no one reaches out,
Especially those i reared and showed what life's about;
Continuing to numb myself, body, mind, and heart,
I continue to be fearful that again I will need to start;
Bordering the verge of losing all of it,
My thoughts turn more dark and I move towards the abyss;
The feeling growing stronger, I am so on the verge,
To meld my empty life, I want to be submerged;
Into the ground cold, damp, I want restful sleep at last,
So no more pain and sadness when my life has finally passed;
So i muster up the courage to call for help to me,
So that maybe I will wake up with hope that I will see;
So it brought me to this place where others followed suit,
And we all began connecting as if these thoughts were moot;
Each day we gathered round and convaleced and ate,
And the time that we would share would make us all feel great;
It brought us to a higher plane, and reminded us of our worth,
And when it would be over we would all have a new birth;
These people i do speak of have helped me to recoup,
So this is what i call them: my healing, my friends, My Group!
Copyright © Christopher Schott Sr. | Year Posted 2026
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