Poems2

Natchez, MS September 11, 2001, This is the town of my birth, and where I spent the first 21 years of life. This site is probably one of my favorite places in the whole town. Wonderful place to sit and think for hours, as long as it's not tourist season.
Charlene Metzger

Charlene Metzger, 2001

More Poems and Ponderings...

Once again, please do not take these works, they are my own. Charlene Metzger, 2003

Midi playing... The Unforgiven by Metallica



	She walked into the crowded room, When there was nothing left to say. She had a tear in her eye, And a soft smile across her face. She looked around for the one, Who could take her from this place. And she runs to him� She runs to him� They laughed and talked for hours, About nothing and everything. She tried to forget about All those years of bad mistakes. She doesn�t know how she got here, Or what she�s doing there today. But she runs to him� She runs to him� She doesn�t know why she runs, When everything seems �ok�. She doesn�t know why she cries, When the summer skies are blue today. She runs to him� Oh yes, she runs to him� Her time with him is like a dream, That she never wants to end. She doesn�t want to go back To her bleak reality But her hours with him are numbered, This is something she can see. Still she runs to him� She runs to him� He holds her tightly in the night, And says, �Trust me� with a grin. She closes her eyes and thinks about What she�d really like to say. But she knows he�s just a dream, And she�ll wake up again someday� She runs to him� She runs to him� She doesn�t know why she runs, When everything seems �ok�. She doesn�t know why she cries, When the summer skies are blue today. She runs to him� Oh yes, she runs to him� He put a spark back in her eyes, When they were growing gray and dim. He put the love back in her heart, Before it could grow cold again. He put the music in her soul, She almost feels young again� So she runs to him� She runs to him� He can�t help her fill her void, And he can�t chase the clouds away. But when he holds her in the night, She�s in a place that�s warm and safe. She�s forbidden to love him, Passionate words gone astray� She still runs to him� She runs to him� She doesn�t know why she runs, When everything seems �ok�. She doesn�t know why she cries, When the summer skies are blue today. She runs to him� Oh yes, she runs to him� Charlene Metzger, 2003

		Am I going crazy, or going sane? Are my thoughts still hazy, Or finally plain? Can you still hear me. Or have I been silenced? All the pain and torment, internal violence. Am I fighting myself, For my emancipation? Are my cries muffled, Or loud declarations? Charlene Metzger, 2003

	We�re cut from the same cloth you and I. Same wants and needs, Same ugliness inside. The same evil within, Trying to break out. The same conquest for passion, The same yearning no doubt. Yet the same security and devotion, Keeps us at bay. We�re from the same cloth, There�s nothing more to say� Charlene Metzger 2003

The hot water rushes over my body, Reaching areas not caressed in what seems to be an eternity. The steam creates a haze lifting my mind to faraway places. To another time, may it be reminiscent or just fantasy. The sound of the water hitting the wall and the curtain becomes rhythmic. I stand there in my own little world, far away from the one I live in. I let the water take me away to my own private paradise. A brief moment of self gratification erupts. Then I cleanse myself of all traces, of all thoughts, of all guilt. I turn the water off, open the curtain, and as I grab a towel, I step back into my mundane world, predictable as my next shower. Charlene Metzger 2003

	Be still my heart Please stop the pitter patter. You�ll just be torn apart, Asking yourself �What�s the matter?� Hush hush roaming mind, You�ll lead yourself astray. Looking for something you�ll never find, Driving you madder day by day. Go away wanton touch. There is no room for you here. You�ll just be longing way too much, When denied, replaced with tears. Charlene Metzger 2003

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