poetrypage2

"The Lost Friendship"

We were the closest of friends
And we said it would be that way 'til the end
And then one day
My heart snapped in two
When you said, "I can't trust you."

I don't know how,
And I may never know why
That you thought that I would ever lie

You trust me with all of you secrets
And I trusted you with all of mine
And I thought it would be that way
Until the end of time

Now somedays I look back and die
For the tears in my eyes signify
The way things used to be

The memories pain me
The thoughts contain me
And I just need to know
Where did all our friendship go?

They say the best of all friendships
Never end
Well ours sadly did

Somewhere beneath all that pride
I feel that if we had only tried
I would still call you everyday
And you'd still come over to laugh and play

Heather Laurel Serpico

"You"

When I mention you
Or the past
Everyone seems to change the subject fast

They tell me to forget you
That I have to let you go
Or I'll forever be drowning in my tears and sorrow

They act like they know
Just how much pain that I feel
They think that only time and words can make it heal

Trust me I wish I could remove
This hurt deep inside
But I don't even know why God chose you to die

Its just not fair,
For me you know
For I wonder time and again why you had to go

Heather Laurel Serpico

"Childhood Is the Kindom Where Nobody Dies"

Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age
The child is grown, and puts away childish things.
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.

Nobody that matter, that is. Distant relative of course
Die, whom one never has seen or has seen for an hour
And they gave one candy in pink-and-green striped bag, or jack knife,
And went away, and cannot really be said to have lived at all.

And cats die. They lie on the floor and lash their tails,
And their reticent fur is suddenly all in motion
With fleas that one never knew was there,
Polished and brown, knowing all there is to know,
Trekking off into the living world.
You fetch a shoe-box, but it's much too small, because she won't curl up now:
So you find a bigger box, and bury her in the yard, and weep.

But you do not wake up a month from then, two months,
A year from then, two years, in the middle of the night
And weep, with your knuckles in your mouth, and say Oh, God! Oh, God!
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies thats matters,--mothers and fathers don't die.

And if you had said, "For heaven's sake, must you always be kissing a person?"
Or, "I do wish to gracious you'd stop tapping on the window with your thimble!"
Tomorrow, or even the day after tomorrow if you're busy having fun,
Is plenty of time to say, "I'm sorry, mother."

To be grown up is to sit at a table with people who have died, who neither listen nor speak;
Who do not drink their tea, though they always said
Tea was such a comfort.

Run down into teh cellar and bring up the last jar of raspberries;
they are not tempted.
Flatter them, ask them what was it they said exactly
That time, to the bishop, or to the overseer, or to Mrs. Mason;
They are not taken in.
Shout at them, get red in the face, rise,
Drag them up out of their chairs by their stiff shoulders and shake them and yell
at them;
They are not startled, they are not even embarrassed;
they slide back into their chairs.

Your tea is cold now.
You drink it standing up
And leave the house.

Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950)

When I read this poem, I thought, wow, this woman had it right on the money.
And she does, everything she said in it is so true. Childhood is the kingdom is
where nobody dies.