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Best Poems Written by Del Higgs

Below are the all-time best Del Higgs poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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School

Don't the teachers know
That we have other homework
To worry about?

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Decisions

An unholy pink plus sign on the stick,
Oh think of what her admirers will say!
Contemplating ideas till she's sick.
When he finds out, will they still be okay?
 
Does she pay the price? Can she even dare?
Will she allow it to see the first day?
Terminate it now, or should she be fair?
Is she ready for the price she must pay?
 
What happened to that holy Christian girl?
Who once believed 'abstinence till marriage?'
Her present actions make her want to hurl.
Does her fate involve a baby carriage?
 
A decision is made, shaky fingers.
Violent trembling hands pull the trigger.

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Strangers

 Warning, this poem is dark. It is inspired by the  Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer.

Gather around and hear of the strange day,
When three total strangers met on that plane.
Three unlikely females eager to tell,
Of their journey through the clutches of hell.
My hands are weak but I'll try with my might,
To give you facts and get this story right.
Come along on their unexpected quest,
Learn the reasons why these females lack rest.

The first is grey-eyed, skinny, and a blonde,
And due to her boredom, she slowly yawns.
Fair of skin, but vain and vapid of heart,
She makes her profit acting in the arts.
Lacking in brains, but her beauty stands out.
She looks perfect from her stance to her pout.
Successful and severely ambitious, 
Cross her, she turns rigorously viscous.
“Holly Star” people adoringly shout,
Their praises erase all her feeble doubts.
Remaining awake for days at a time, 
Easing pressure with the help of a line.
She loves her job more than anything else,
But Holly feels like a doll on a shelf.

The second is plain but kind as can be,
Lacking a husband, a mother of three.
Prominent red hair, blue eyes that are lost,
Freckles dot her face, her temper a wasp.
Three screaming children are taking their toll,
Their father's absence turned their hearts to coal.
Months of a mom struggling to make ends meet,
Make her closer to admitting defeat.
Her choice of work is not quite ideal
Pleasuring men for a family meal.
Disgust, self-loathing, and hatred are there,
Under the surface, with no love to spare.
Her life is foggy and covered in rain,
She wants to put a bullet in her brain.

The last woman is always on her guard,
From an accident that left her scarred.
Twelve unbearable years have all but passed,
Since the scars on her body were then cast.
Long charcoal black hair and brilliant green eyes,
Her profession centers solely on lies.
Her absence extends weeks at a time,
To find those willing to spend on a dime.
She hides all that dope in crevices not seen,
Storing it in baggies to keep it clean.
Deceitful, perceptive, a broken saint.
Her hobby makes the whole idea quaint.
Who has she fooled? Can I even name one?
Not her daughter, but possibly her son.

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The Letter Never Sent

Dear mom,
Tonight I went to a party, and I followed your advice.
About how drinking and driving was naughty, and definitely unwise.
So I opted for soda instead mom, because I knew that you were right.

Tonight I felt amazing, because I followed your advice. 
Maybe my friends planned on getting hammered, but I decided to think twice.
I followed your words of wisdom mom, and couldn't help but feel accomplished.
Because even if my friends were drinking, my morals wouldn't be demolished.

Tonight I decided to leave mom, as quickly as I could.
To make it back before midnight, just like you said I should.
Other people left too mom, but didn't listen like I did.

Everything was fine mom, until that driver came about.
Swerving and sliding, and hitting me like I was nothing more than a cloud.
The shattering sound of glass was distant, but I knew that we had crashed.
All because another driver decided it was okay to drive smashed.

I'm halfway through the windshield, the smell of blood is potent.
There are voices all around, mom, but I just can't seem to focus.
My life just flashed before me, a whirlwind of scenes and thoughts.

But the biggest thing I can think of now is how the driver knew 'x' marked the spot.
I hear the officers talking, they don't try to be quiet at all.
They say what a pity it is, because I'm the one who will take the fall.

I don't understand mom, exactly where I failed?
I listened, obeyed, yet here I am; halfway through and impaled.

They're saying he was drunk mom, too drunk to understand.
And maybe when he wakes up, he'll become a different man.

They're saying I probably won't make it. That my chances are very slight.
My eyes are growing heavy mom, I'm going to lose this fight.

I just can't comprehend it mom, why do I have to pay?
He's the one who drank and drove and decided to irrationally behave.

My eyes are starting to close, and the world is turning grey.
But before I go mom, there are some things I need to say:

First off mom, you were right, about driving while impaired.
All rational thoughts go out the window, all lives impacted by despair.

I love you more than anything, and I'm sorry this is how it ends.
Tell them all my story mom, make them think again.

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Ready, Set, Please Don'T Go Because I'M Not

I’ve always been your little girl,
Even now that I’m an adult.
Yes, I know I’ll always be your baby,
And I grew up way too fast.
But there’s something I can’t stop from happening dad,
And in some ways that’s your fault.
Don’t grow old dad.
Please, not quite yet.
No, don’t shake your head at me.
Don’t tell me to man up!

It’s a big world out there dad,
And I’m not ready to go alone yet.
I watched your hair turn from brown to grey,
And more wrinkles adorn your face.

In my world, you were always a star.
You encouraged me to never give up, to try and go far.
I’d sit with you and talk about life,
And argue over what we watched on the television.

I know there have been times where I got mad,
Or said things I didn’t mean.
And all the times I blew you off,
Or didn’t talk to you much.
I know you don’t see it that way,
But I have been inattentive.

You’re getting older,
Each and every passing day.
I see it in the way your energy dwindles,
And in the languid movements you do.
But even if you were ninety-nine,
I’d pray to never go a single day without you.

I know the day is coming.
I know that on that day,
You’ll want me to be strong.
You’ll smile at me from wherever you are,
And hope that I’m not too sad.
Yes dad, I know you don’t want me to be sad at all.
But the fact of the matter is I will.
Probably for a limitless amount of time.

Don’t shake your head again,
Don’t shrug me off or say,
“Don’t shed a single tear for me child,
I’ll be in a better place.”
How will I know?
I’m not sure I believe.
Maybe there is a heaven, and quite possibly a hell.
But how do I know that your afterlife is promised?

What will I do without you?
Who will remind me to do things?
Even when I say I’ll remember?
And who else can I confide with everything?
No. Don’t tell me that I’ll figure it out.
Don’t tell me to trust myself!
Your absence will be a great void,
One that I’m certain will never be filled.

You’re the only person I’ve ever liked hugging me.
The only person who has always believed in me.
The reason I didn’t descend into the darkness of my insanity.
The reason I wake up every morning and attempt to show optimism.
Better yet, you’re my best friend.
Yeah, I know. I give that term too freely, to everyone I know.
But rest assured dad, that no matter the number,
No one can match your soul.

Dad, stop trying to convince me not to be sad.
This time I mean it!
Just let me be sad, and angry, and bitter.
Let me believe in your goodness.
Let me be proud of your progress!

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When I Was Ten and Four: a Crappy Version of When I Was One-And-Twenty

When I was ten-and-four,
I heard my best friend say,
“Don’t hand out your trust
In its entirety.
Even Satan was once
An angel.”
But I was ten-and-four,
Too naïve and headstrong to listen.

When I was ten-and-four,
I heard my best friend say again,
“Often enough, bad things fall
On those who strive to bring goodness.
Pick yourself up off the ground,
And be wary with trusting people.”
And I am now ten-and-nine,
And oh, how I’ve learned she was right!

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Breaking Free

Black and white, reality blurring at the seams.
Dependent on a bottle, to silence the screams.
Isolated and alone, unsure where to turn.
Wondering if all along I inevitably would’ve burned.
I tried to keep my head up, but the chains only got stronger.
Faking a smile, not sure for how much longer.
Battling the demons, while trying to be a good friend.
Trying to find sympathy, despite all the lies you spread.
Trying to find life, despite the desire to be dead.
Why did you do it? That, I’ll always wonder.
Did you think it was funny, to be the cause of why I went under?
Downward spirals and a vicious cycle.
You did something that I thought wasn’t possible.
You destroyed the trust I vowed to never give again.
You lied to me, and said you wanted to be my friend.
You tarnished everything that I ever held dear.
You caused me to spend every day, paralyzed in fear.
Amber liquids, puffs of nicotine, and all the deception, none of that helped.
I lied to myself, time and time again.
Saying that this was all going to be the end.
There may be hope, someday down the line.
Once of course, I pay that hefty fine.
In the eyes of most, I’m solely to blame.
But to know that you’ll never be held accountable,
That’s the part that’s truly a shame.
It was so easy to get trapped in all of your lies.
It’s just too bad that now, I’ll be the one who pays the price.
Where the future takes me, I guess we’ll wait and see.
Hand me that axe, my dear, because now I’m breaking free.

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Society

Society tells me that I’m perfect the way I am.
That it doesn’t matter the weight on the scale,
Whether I shave my armpits,
Or if I have hair on my head.
Society says I’m perfect;

But society also says:
“You need to lose weight because your stomach hangs over your jeans.”
“You need to clear up the acne on your face.”
“You shouldn’t wear makeup because you’re naturally beautiful.”
“Oh my god. You’re not wearing makeup. Are you sick?”
“You need to brush your long hair and put it in an acceptable style.”
“You can’t do a man’s job. This is a man’s world.”
“You’re wearing a skirt that short? You deserve whatever you get.”
Society tells me this, on the glossy pages of a magazine.

And I can’t help but wonder why it matters if I weigh more than 100 pounds,
Have eyelashes longer than a ruler,
Or hair past my shoulders.
Society tells me I’m perfect, beautiful, and that I should be proud to be a woman because I’m unique.
But society also tells me I’m weak for having a vagina, weird for not wearing a mask, and not a real woman because my hair stops at the nape of my neck.
Boy society, you sure do confuse me.

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One Year

One year ago,
I smiled in the late hours of night,
because all I could think about
were the stupid, crazy, wonderful things
you had said that day.
I memorized the lines of our script,
because no one else said them that way.

12 months ago,
I told myself to be wary,
that to love you would bring me pain.
But then you draped your jacket over me,
when we walked home in the rain.
I frequently said it wasn’t bad,
I could quit you any time.

365 days ago,
I counted the hours until I’d see you again.
I told myself it was unhealthy,
but I was strapped to a high speed bus.
I told myself that there was a distinct possibility that there was more.
That maybe for once, I was pretty enough,
or witty enough,
or even funny enough.
 
52 weeks ago,
I used to stare at you from
a distance,
And I always compared myself
to all the girls you hugged.
But you told me you liked me best,
and that no matter what,
I would always be your favorite.
 
 
8,765 hours ago,
I hung on to your very essence,
While trying not to seem too interested.
You always had a smile ready for me,
and we talked about our favorite things.
Somehow you became a wizard,
And I was enticed under your spell.
 
525,949 minutes ago,
I was hopelessly devoted to you.
I would’ve ventured into unknown galaxies,
because you were the pilot.
I knew back then that even though I was probably looking too
much into things.
you made me feel beautiful for once in my life.

 31, 536, 000 seconds ago,
I was flailing helplessly,
trying to not be left in your dust.
I told my mother that I loved you,
she said: “It’s just a crush.”
But it was more.
I just prayed when I told you,
you wouldn’t leave me in the dust.
 
One year later,
I realize how stupid I really was.
Ignorance is bliss,
And you yanked me directly off of cloud 9.
With just one short, little sentence.
“I don’t feel the same way.”
Everything shattered;
All those hours that were used.
But now, I won't waste a single second more on you.

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Losing Grip

It’s hard to decide, when I ended up this way.
How I let everything slip through my grasp.
How I became dependent on anything to keep me high.
How I ignored the world around me, for my online persona.
I’d say it was really when I was twenty.
Things were rough around the edges,
But we were kind of okay at times.
But then bills became numerous,
My dad’s age started to show.
I still don’t know how to grow up.
Or how to deal with this depression.
True, I’ve been depressed before.
And I’ve come out of it okay.
But this, this is something different.
This is complete, and utter defeat.
How I let my grades slip away.
Potentially tossed my future away.
How I found that I really, really, really loved being drunk.
And how I almost completely despised being sober.
Because when I’m sober, I have to face the reality.
Of everything I’ve done.
Of what I have let my life become.
Of what my life will become if I don’t do something now.
And that absolutely, completely, utterly scares the shit out of me.
Perhaps if I told someone how I felt, they might understand.
Or be able to lend a helping hand.
But I’m scared to admit how weak I’ve become.
And how I’ve let my life become shambles.
I have no idea what to do anymore.
I keep preaching to have more hope.
But it almost feels like my hope is gone.
I still can’t drive.
I’ve never had a real job.
I flunked this semester of college.
I became addicted to buying habbo credits.
And alcohol.
I ignored my dad so many times.
I’ve let my house become disgusting.
And I haven’t brought any of it up.
Or acknowledged it.
I’m losing my grip on reality,
I don’t know what to do.
This is the lowest I’ve ever felt,
The lowest I’ve ever been.
How to cope?
What do I do?
How do I grow up, and tackle life?
When I feel like I’m still a kid?