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Word Painting
I've always believed that the words of poetry can paint a picture within our minds unlike anything else.
For as long as I could write, I've enjoyed filling pages and pages of words with my own thoughts and stories. If anything,
writing has been my lifelong passion.
My "poetic era" stretched from 7th grade until 11th. Flipping back through the years,
most of the poems are quite depressing. Yes, that was laughably my era as a miserable "tortured soul". It's actually quite
amusing!
However, some of them still bring back a lot of memories and, although they may be poorly written,
I thought I'd post them here anyway. Note: I may have edited some of them for spelling / grammar / stupidity.
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| Why don't I write anymore? |
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I'm currently not much into writing poetry because it just doesn't do anthing for me anymore.
I don't get the same inspiration as in my "younger" days. Plus, I've rekindled my love of writing
prose instead and, hehheh, I've also realized just how immature and empty my poetry really was.
Maybe I'll start again in the future, if I become a tortured soul once more. *laf* Or if I ever grow up!
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Shattered Hopes
Sometimes the world refuses to be on your side,
And leaves you in the dust while you grope around.
Then it stabs you in the back in the cruelest way,
Yet your heart is strong and you hold your own ground.
But even the strongest heart cannot fight the pain
When a knife is driven through that special place.
Everything shatters and comes tumbling down,
Diminishing the will to continue the race.
Some survive, while other collapse;
Many are wounded and scarred forever.
No one can mend your heart once its been broken
And it becomes a struggle to hold yourself together.
Time may be proven to heal all wounds,
But only you know what is to be;
Only you can stand up against the world
And protect your heart from reality.
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Tears
Tears,
Casquading down as a crashing waterfall,
Full of pain that refuses to be ignored,
Dampening cheeks of pure innocence,
Striking a despairing, unpleasant chord.
A heart drowning in agony cries out in pain,
Flooded by emotions, heavy and overbearing.
Tiny wet drops fall one by one,
Slaying the will to still go on caring.
No compassion is expressed fo the lonely soul
Deepening an ocean of despised misery,
Destroying nothing, not even the pain
But only discarding pride and dignity.
Tears,
Rising from an internal clouds,
Falling out of heartache and sorrow,
Refusing to halt for a hint of content,
Even if sunlight reigns come tomorrow.
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No More Chances
Dear woman, in solitude you lay,
Confined to your prison of white, long faded.
Outside, the sunshine bathed young energetic souls
While you withered away, your youth degraded.
Days full of freedom remained so distant,
Deep wthin a past refusing to be remembered
Even when determination still ruled in your heart
To be strong again and rekindle the dying embers.
There was always still hope you clutched in your hands;
You never let go of the will to go on with the race.
However, your determination was only in vain
Since it was impossible to keep sanity in its place.
Everyone around you refused to listen,
Misunderstanding the voice begging for love,
And pushed the truth so far out of reach,
Your internal pleas heard only in heaven above.
The care you did receive was only so little;
It wasn't enough, on which you could thrive,
I wish I could have offered you my own compassuion,
Maybe known you better and stopped hope from taking its dive;
But without a doubt, time has ticked away too fast.
It is already too late for one single good-bye
To you who I'll never have another chance to know.
Dear woman, it is within the earth where you now peacefully lie.
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Untitled
Love may construct a wall of blindness
And leave reality hidden within its shadow.
Ecstasy may only last for less than a moment,
Becoming a memory of so long ago.
Then truth rises from the land of the unforeseen,
Shining its destructive light on the crumbling wall,
Creating a blaze that destroys the barrier;
One by one does each piece slowly fall.
Each fallen stone weighs down the heart
With discouraging forces the tears cannot fight
And dreams of past happiness reign as pain.
Nothing, if anything, will ever again seem right.
But life does not remain so cruel to such innocence,
Even as the broken heart weakens in agony
And as it tries to push away the truth
Of an already decided destiny.
There is a rainbow waiting to shine,
To end the misfortunes of the storm,
As it slices through the darkness of misery
And create a wave of peace ever so warm.
Only time will tell how long the rainbow lasts,
And how long the sun rules the clear blue sky,
But through undying memories and crashing walls,
The human spirit may never completely die.
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To a friend
Life has never been flawless;
So many times I have lost my way.
Yet never would I have gotten back on track
If you hadn't been by my side each day.
You, my friend, have been so loyal,
Brightening my life in a way I'm not worthy.
The tears I've shed, flowing down my cheeks,
Were dried up so quickly with your presence so near me.
A friend understands and cares very deeply,
And knows of what goes through my mind,
And what I feel when life is so cruel.
A generous smile pushes all agony behind.
You've lent me a shoulder to cry on,
You've give me a companion who cares,
You've offered me a person I can count on --
It's all what only the ideal friend ever bears.
My life would be so empty,
If friends like you did not exist,
Who can make me laugh and make me smile,
And offer a kind of love I simply can't resist.
Even if the sun ceases to shine,
Or if our dreams shatter violently,
You have all my thanks and gratitude,
And my friendship until the end of eternity.
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Playing With Fire
Ignited by the hands of two innocent hearts
The bright orange flames rise higher and higher,
Strengthening rapidly as they radiate heat,
Constructing a bond of longing, of desire,
Warmth engulfs both of the lonely souls,
A flash of light illuminates the path ahead,
But secrets remain shielded by casted shadows
And truths are concealed, the two left misled.
One hand reaches out, approaching closer and closer,
Yet it pulls away a moment too late.
The fire dies down, too quickly, too fast,
As dictated by the orders of their already doomed fate.
Ashes linger, scarring and smothering,
And all is forgotten of what once was yearned,
Because by playing with fire so ignorantly,
It isn't mistaken that one always gets burned.
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