This life
I'm dying,
Red patches of skin eating my core away,
I fear for my new one,
It kicks as a portrait of my fear.
I do not want to be recognised when I die,
I have contributed nothing to the world,
But this short note.
The woman died,
The child died.
And so did the flowers around the coffin.
This poem is dedicated to my best friend Crystal!!
Smile
A smile can mean a thousand words,
But yours means much more than that,
A good friend, that's whats you are.
Someone that stands besides me.
But what is a true friend?
A person who listens to your problems all the time?
Or holds your hand when a time is needed?
No, indeed a friend does these things with a reason,
The kindness that is eluded from them,
But perhaps.
Is there a sense of trust?
Gazing into that bright blue sky,
I see the clouds
representing the parts of my life,
Love, family, career,
Images fixed in my head.
I hear my mother,
'Study hard, you'll go far',
maybe I have,
Now at this present moment.
But I'm not happy,
I'm supposed to be,
People tell me how lucky I am,
But I'm not.
Nothing I do makes sense.
So I lie here in the park on a summer's day.
