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Skye Robertson Poem
Too many big and small
It doesn't matter, I hate them all.
I hate when they run, I hate when they leap.
I hate when they frolic in their sleep.
I hate how much they love to cuddle.
Their love is never very subtle.
I hate when they lick away your tears.
And comfort you as you face your fears.
I hate when they tilt their head and stare,
And snip and chew, on your long hair.
I hate when they hunt and kill a bug,
And track their filth across the rug.
I hate when they jump on your private places,
Or hit the window with their faces.
I hate every, dog, except a dog named Red,
I still love him, even though he’s dead.
Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2017
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Skye Robertson Poem
I don’t remember my dreams
At 1,2,or 3 but every other age is clear
When I was 4 I wanted to be daddy,
a hero that saves the day.
At 5 daddy took me to the zoo:
I wanted to be a lion, roaring and lounging all day.
At 6 I wanted to be a lumberjack,
With a beard as big as daddy’s.
At 7 I wanted to be an astronaut, to touch the stars
That dad said I could reach.
At 8 I wanted to be a football player,
Because dad loved the game
At 9 I wanted to be a sailor,
Because dad loved the ocean
At 10 I wanted to be a prince,
The son of my dad, the king.
And at 11 I wanted to be king,
To leave my dad behind
At 12 I wanted to be a DJ,
So that I could have fun all night
At 13 I wanted to be a soldier
Just like my dad.
At 14 I wanted to be a doctor
Because my dad got shot
At 15 I wanted to be a time traveller
Because dad died
At 16 I wanted to die,
Because I didn't want to be alone.
At 17 I wanted to be happy,
The way dad wanted me to be.
Now I'm 18 and a soldier,
Wanting to be half the man my dad was.
Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2017
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Skye Robertson Poem
My hero can’t fly, he’s strong but not super
He’s 43 years old and drives a mini cooper
He doesn’t have x-ray vision, in fact he can barely see
And he jumps a little everytime he sees a bee.
He can fall asleep anywhere, and snores like thunder
But even though he carries us he’s never been encumbered
He used to be a step in a long flight of stairs
But now he’s all of it, he’s always been there
My Step-dad was there at night to drive me home
From my first job, where I flipped burgers for hours trying not to groan
I remember we went golfing, and I had my first drink
And feeling funny afterwards throwing up in the sink
He was there when my mom left, I’m surprised he stayed
But he did because he loves us to his dying day
Unlike my Mom my Dad’s no zero
He loves us
We love him
And he’ll always be
My Hero
Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2017
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Skye Robertson Poem
I stand in the ruined heart of Rome.
Looking up at what used to be a floor.
I close my eyes and experience,
I feel the presence of the spirits who died here.
And listen to the sound of their final breaths,
The symphony of their anguish and regret.
I hear the clashes of metal on metal,
And see the sparks reflecting off the gladiators sweat.
I see the sand and weapons dyed red.
Hearing the crowd stamping and trumpeting like elephants.
Screaming for this small sand colored world,
To be stained crimson.
The gladiators struggle whipping the crowd in a frenzy
Before one falls, slipping in crimson, a blade poised at his heart.
The crowd freezes as the emperor raises his hand.
Turning his thumb down, signaling the blade,
To pierce the warrior's heart.
Shaking me from my reverie.
I turned and left the heart of Rome,
The field of crimson.
The Colosseum.
Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2017
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Skye Robertson Poem
The ending never rivals the beginning
How could it when the endings decided
Words and scenes playing out
All to end in one predictable conclusion
The beginning marks the start to a journey
While the end marks its conclusion
But isn't the destination, always known?
Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2017
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Skye Robertson Poem
I lost my will, after one success
It made my life look empty.
All of my plans made no sense,
Life had no meaning,
I don’t want to try anymore,
Why try when the win feels empty?
So I walk through life waiting to die.
Waiting for motivation to find me
Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2017
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Skye Robertson Poem
If I was reincarnated, What would I do?
Would I love again, or try to find you?
I can’t decide…what I want to do.
Either way I’d be haunted by you.
Any time she smiles, every time we kiss.
My heart aches a little, as I catch a glimpse.
I feel fake, every time that we kiss
Locking onto her eyes, whenever I catch a glimpse.
Just hoping to see you again.
You know that I’ll leave her, your image won’t fade
It fills my every thought, I miss you everyday.
I hope you still love me, so my image won’t fade.
And maybe you’ll see me, every single day.
Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2022
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Skye Robertson Poem
Empty, why are you so empty when I constantly fill you up
I start the day full, but end with nothing in my cup.
I scour the earth for the cup that never empties
He, who’s been here longer than centuries.
He who sent his only son
So that we, would no longer run.
So instead we walk straight into his arms.
As he holds us, protects us, from all harm.
And as he holds you he heals your scars
And gives you a heart, that could hold the stars.
I scour the earth for the cup that never empties
I’ve searched the earth for what feels like centuries.
I’ve looked high, low, left, and right.
But it seems as though I’ll go to bed empty tonight
And as I give up I hear a great shout.
His voice in my head asking about my hearts doubt
For I didn’t believe and I made my heart hard
Keeping it locked and under guard
But he broke down the gate
For knowing him was my fate
He filled up my cup
And healed my hearts every cut
And sent me into the world with a cup that never empties
To spread the news about a god that's been here longer than centuries
Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2017
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