Details |
Andrea Beyer Poem
You glanced at me,
Cracked a few jokes ..
In that moment I should of walked away,
But I didn't.
We talked for days and you convinced me,
That you were the “right one”
Because your prayers sounded like
“Me and you forever”
Whispered you loved me as young as fifteen,
Playing with words
You did not mean.
Walked in with no caution sign,
Now part of my life
And made it your duty to settle in my stream of consciousness,
I lost myself while falling for you.
You told me your religion was lacking meaning
And I happened to be it,
Because you told me if your love for me would be two words
It would not be “love you” but “Holy Book”.
Because your “love” for me was sacred and would have to be written
Into pages not
Sentences.
But then, you proved my point right
Love is rare, because we did not experience it
You took me and blinded me
Under the name of love.
Love was your religion,
And you used love's name in vain.
~A.B
Copyright © Andrea Beyer | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Andrea Beyer Poem
The duo, one and two
Beside each other, complete opposites
An odd number beside an even number,
That was them hand on hand.
Street past street, running and gazing,
As the street lamps turn on
The sun gradually becomes unknown as
The moon steals his role, round and round
Like their feet on pathways almost dancing
Hand on hand, while red cars drive by.
He doesn’t whisper her name this one time
He simply observes, her awe for the world,
The city, oh that city,
They called home.
~ Andrea Beyer
Copyright © Andrea Beyer | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Andrea Beyer Poem
To the tree
The standby viewer , the fortune teller who avoided my path,
What was it ? The way I looked? Or my innocence you envied? you were selfish and heartless or should I say rootless ?
with your leaves dropping one by one as they turned golden crisp meeting the ground,
every mid September over and over viewing me and the equivocated path
my feet were rooting in, ignoring any signal of common sense.
Where my first kiss was stolen, and the stairwell were one after another took the lucky chance,
you stood by with your everlasting green vibrant leaves in mid may watching me, as my everlasting pure soul poured out and out draining the good leftover, at the top of the small hill where I’d spend the days rolling rolling and aching with scraped legs.
till the blood in my scrapped legs stopped to reach my wrists and my beautiful friend depression wrapped itself in loneliness as my personal merry Christmas gift.
You knew you always did yet though all you did was stand and pose,
model for my catastrophes and observe observe my pain and laughters.
you could of warned me saved me,
preserved my heart in a frozen winter leaf, but you were rootless and preserved yourself .
You let the whole world crumble and crunch between us, as you acted the spectator at the globe,
while time and days became unknown and self hatred became the main show,
yet though there was no much you Could’ve done apart from a fair warning ,
as id repeat every mistaken step just to meet with him again, and taste his lips against my own and fall into love with his trace on my skin and his everlasting green windows to the world.
~Andrea Beyer
Copyright © Andrea Beyer | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Andrea Beyer Poem
Mask in grey
Like mystery
You waved me goodbye
When I was as young as five,
Because you were hurt and betrayed
But was it really that easy?,
To leave your little girl
Due to someone else's mistake.
Mask in red
Like torment
You ruined us
Mostly her,
Now she fakes smiles and plays pretend in this broken home,
Why did you replace him?
If you only came to make things worse.
Mask in black
like my nightmares that haunt me
You walked into my life,
With no warning sign
I lost myself in you..
but then you proved me right,
Love isn't real because
Boys will be boys and..
girls will be toys.
Mask in green
Like purity and uniqueness
Then there's you ,
With your eyes, voice and the way you walk
Humanly yet thought extremely rare
With green eyes to go along with sweet talks by the river,
But you deserve more...
More than a broken girl.
~A.B
Copyright © Andrea Beyer | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Andrea Beyer Poem
0 kicks in 0 flies in : 0 runs in 0 floats in
When it all begins,
With only four thoughts
One for each zero,
Along with the perfect timing
2am when 21 becomes
42 thoughts flying through my mind,
21 times 2 the second month of the year
February when it all began,
3am when it all crashes down
I‘m captive in my own self
My own mind is my personal jail,
And I submerge in a subconscious submarine,
Where 42 turns into the
Infinity thoughts of the unknown.
Thoughts are no longer thoughts
They are me they are who I am
During my midnight thoughts,
4am instead of an hour past
It feels like per each thought it
Has been a year the time slows down,
Almost as if life was giving me a second chance,
To slow things down '
and live in the moment.
5am therapy ends with the
Collection of thoughts rolling down,
From my eyes to my cheeks
Giving them life
Glossy, vivid and moist,
As my thoughts fade away,
I fall asleep.
Copyright © Andrea Beyer | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Andrea Beyer Poem
Born golden,
I cried , smiled , laughed
Then ran ,walked , talked
Innocence was my gift stolen
By the cloud dressed in black
Known as growing up
The old trap
As leaves turn golden before winter
Is approaching,
Humans are natures' controversy,
As we are born golden then
Turn cold and selfish,
Just like the colour grey
Unknown of it's real presence.
Yet frozen
I cry, smile , laugh
Then run , walk , talk
Still the same.
But no longer golden.
Andrea Beyer
Copyright © Andrea Beyer | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Andrea Beyer Poem
With him hid a thousand sonnets
That couldn’t fit into fourteen lines or
Even words.
With him hid poetry
With him hid my frightened heart
With him hid my fears as he took them by the hand
To a far away land.
Among him settled my sadness as he took it all in,
Oh! Within him was courage to hand
me a gun, with the power to pull the trigger
Hoping I wouldn’t because maybe my
Hand wouldn’t slip.
That maybe kept his glistening green eyes
Glued to my crooked smile and boring stories.
~ Andrea Beyer
Copyright © Andrea Beyer | Year Posted 2017
|