Loneliness is an old chair
Dusty in the corner
The dark cloud floating
In an emerald sky
The kid you didn't notice
Until they were but shadow of the mind.
Valiant Soul, Gentle Soul
Laura Barton
I wish I could lay your arms down
and let you rest at last,
because I see how much you struggle and fight.
But I cannot let them lie.
I can't because I don't have the might
to wield the strength that you so desperately cling to.
After years of being beat into the ground
your legs are failing you even though you force them to keep going.
I can't stand to watch you break, valiant soul;
I can't bear to hear your cries.
Yet, I can't be the one
who takes up your role because I'll start to break, too
and you couldn't bear that either.
I wish you could be the one to step in
and make it right,
b
Barriers up around my mind
Loved ones say to show my desire
Those who wish payment in kind
Will stare with ice, and speak with fire
I do not know what is the matter
I do not know, I cannot say
Will I become mad as a hatter
When I will tell not anyone
The barriers encroach my mind
Surround me, block out everything
Hiding me from all the stares, the glares
Linked to what I've done, but not done
Are you scared to live again?
To breathe once more, freely.
Are you afraid to slip again?
And cry each time you see me.
Are you torn with this again?
Another chance to start anew.
Are you ripped in two again?
If only I really did know you.
Cause it's not enough to try once more,
Finality rings when I close the door.
It's not enough to wait forever,
For something that was never, ever meant to be.
So stop holding on,
Just let go.
Fall through the ceiling,
Go with the flow.
And I'll fade away,
Just like those days.
You'll find different ways
If you would only just go.
Just stop hanging on,
Just let go.
It's way past too lat
poets and palm readings. by rockandrollover, literature
Literature
poets and palm readings.
I have truths written on my fingers.
I press them into fists, in fear that they escape.
Five little truths
holding onto my palms
for dear life.
One c-shaped line near my thumb
For my one little porcelain heart
that chips every time I see him
because he's not my first love
or my last.
Two parallel lines below my pinky finger
for the tracks I hope to run out of this town.
You can't see, but sometimes
I click my heels three times
and wait.
Three delicate little lines under my thumb
for the number of times I've called Wednesday "Hump Day".
I am often guilty of the things that I hate,
like lying and writing poetry about love
an
I am just a dime a dozen girl
one among the crowd
A voice that is not to loud
One with that golden curl
He was a dime a dozen boy
one among the many
His looks were plenty
His face filled with joy
He is now unique, in a world of gold
one on his own
chilled to the bone
A lonely life is so cold
I could be unique, but not lonely
We could be two
If he could only see
The one in the crowd that is me
There was no warm morning sun on her face -
Alone she sleeps, Alone she wakes up.
She fails to remember the last time
A snoring bag of bones slept next to her.
Her life was one cold winter storm,
No emotions - her heart made of stone,
The human form to her is a waste of space,
An enemy, waiting to tear her up... Once more.
Just like when her mother gave birth to her,
And left her on the nearest door step.
Just like her guardian used to force her downstairs,
In the basement - to take advantage of her.
Just like when her only lover broke his promise,
And left her shattered - with no place to go.
I've prodded at this restless heart of mine
Counted its pulse in beats and measures
Recalled the moments the tempo changed
And the notes on the page fell off their bars
Our sweet melody- something we couldn't pretend or recreate
Now I stare at this empty page
I refilled the measures with bitterness
My heart recoiled with longing
The trill never left the fringe of my sanity
And it danced wildly when I closed my eyes
I realized that my bitter heart would never reach
Nor my lonely moans
Nor the battle with my bedclothes
Nor the tears so mercilessly wept
You can't hear them
And you will never look back
When will I?
When will I?
Tumbling Wishes, Falling Stars by Anjellyjoy, literature
Literature
Tumbling Wishes, Falling Stars
Rising stars and smooth trains of wishes
Glistening sparkles of time
Sunshine flowers and leaping fishes
None but I could rhyme
A lady in rose red blinding dress
Dancing through a derelict of dust
The once magnificant printing press
Now gray, hinges of rust
Monsieur with your dark timber walking stick
Care to take your lady tonight?
Where the moon shimmers on the rose red bricks
Where rust obscures your sight
And take her down to the fountain of rubble
Stone too cold to touch
Yet the fountain shoots out rusty old bubbles
Of the wisdom stones, they know too much
So jump into the cold stone fountain now,
Into its waters of deep