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Best Poems Written by Tess Waddingham

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Details | Tess Waddingham Poem

Artwork

there was a girl,
a natural artist.
she painted her artwork everywhere she went.
she painted her lonely walls, she painted her skies.

she painted for everyone, they cherished her artwork,
but no attention was ever paid to the girl.
everyone loved what she did, but nobody truly loved her. 
and so, the girl was lonely.

the girl cried and cried, her artwork no longer brought her joy.
she never realized her true worth.
the girl was always unhappy,
one day she decided that she would paint herself.

her artwork soon covered her body,
yet she kept it hidden, afraid of what people would think. 
this artwork wasn’t beautiful, not like the other paintings
this one was full of sorrow, hurt and anger

People started asking about the artwork on her body, 
they asked her about the sadness in her face,
she new that they didn’t really care,
so she continued painting her artwork.

one day, she met a boy.
this boy was different to the rest,
when she was around this boy,
she finally felt at ease, for this boy had artwork of his very own. 

they shared stories of the artwork on their wrists, 
creating canvases and painting their emotions, 
as her artwork began to fade away, she regained her happiness.
He made her content about her paintings,
and soon, her body was clean of her artwork

until one day, the boy changed.
he left her for another, less broken life. 
he pushed her to the curb, and once more, the girl was lonely.

She once again cried and cried, knowing that the one who she had cared most for, no longer cared.
so once again, the girl painted herself.
Her beautiful snow white skin had become splattered and splotched with deep and dark colours
reflecting her thoughts

the girl finally decided that her artwork wasn’t enough agony for her,
so she decided to frame her artwork, 
and hang it from her ceiling.

Copyright © Tess Waddingham | Year Posted 2016



Details | Tess Waddingham Poem

Hidden

Poem 

Hidden

I am hiding, 
I have built a wall
permanently fixed atop a tower
from which I shall never fall

I am buried deep away
Trapped within my mind
Never come looking for me
I am much too hard to find

With my curtains shut tight
My bridge is drawn 
Physically I am here
Mentally I am gone

I’ve built a moat around myself
filled with the deadliest of beasts
Please, don’t cross it
lest you become the next feast

my disguise is complete
my mask fixed on 
buried away from society
from life, I am withdrawn.

I am alone here, now
for my walls are much too strong
Maybe I should open my gate
maybe, I was wrong

My fort is much too solid
with nobody to call a friend 
I shall never be able to break myself down now
Forever imprisoned with myself
until my very end

Copyright © Tess Waddingham | Year Posted 2016

Details | Tess Waddingham Poem

Ending

I feel the end coming
its approaching near
I open my eyes 
their’s is full of fear

endless I love you’s
cards are piling up. 
People, in and out
Handed a pill and a cup. 

I never wanted this 
this isn’t what I deserve
I’m stuck and left to wonder
will my legacy preserve?

tubes and machinery immobilise my frail body
bones protrude
a shell of the man I was
when will this pain finally conclude?

So long have I been trapped in this room 
stuck in a state of constant despair 
I want nothing more than to step outside
have I forgotten the smell of fresh air?

So much I have yet to do
the list painfully long
so many places left to visit
I still have to right so many wrongs

As my breath becomes hitched 
My body is covered in a cold sweat
surrounded by my family, 
to whom I am forever in debt

I feel my end coming 
its approaching near
doctors look down on me
I am no longer full of fear

Acceptance hits like a wave
Its knocking at my door
now I truly know
that I don't want to be afraid anymore

Goodbye mother, 
Take good care of my son
Goodbye sister
stay by my side until I am done. 

I know my end is coming 
It is now here 
please don’t be sad
please don’t weep my dear

for we shall meet again
for now, please don’t cry
put your hand in mine
Goodbye.

Copyright © Tess Waddingham | Year Posted 2016


Book: Reflection on the Important Things