Tag: Poetry

I will not disappear.

Snow smothers the hillside, icy white coat:
The chill has buried itself in my bones-
Almost like an ache-with no antidote.
I lie in bed listening to the tones

Of the city outside of my window,
Not wanting to move, to get up, go on.
Weary of the constant stumbles, I know
Will never end. Not until I am gone.

But that- that is the most important part.
We learn from every misstep, mistake.
So I pull myself from bed with all my heart
And fight for better ev’ry day I wake.

I’ll fight with ev’ry last ounce of strength, it’s true-
I am human. It’s all I can do.

The Masks We Wear

The Masks We Wear

We carve our faces out of stone
So that our hearts will follow suit.
So afraid of feeling alone,
We run to the first to recruit.
The masks we wear to recognize
Our own obscure our true faces
They make us forget- cruel disguise,
Masks of country, gods, and races-
That beneath, we are all the same.
That each of us deserves the life,
breath in our chests, blood in our veins.
In the name of masks, we cause strife.
Please, remove your masks to reveal
That humanity lies beneath.
So we can stop the hurt and heal
And share the world that’s underneath.

(Image By Tristan Nitot (standblog.org) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html), CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/) or CC BY-SA 2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons)



The seconds tick by more rapidly now;

Gone are the days when they creeped slowly by.

Gone are the days when I marveled at how

big the world was under an endless sky.

I have loved and I have lost many friends.

I have seen how quickly life can slip away

When you only look forward around the bend.

I do not want to waste another day.

I cherish the seconds that stretch on for hours

As we laugh about nothing in my place

As we walk below the city’s towers

As I bask in the beauty of your face.

I hope that when this all comes to an end

I’m left with fond memories and you as a friend.

Slow To Sleep

Slow To Sleep

The chill is creeping slowly into the air:

Crisp as apples hanging heavy in trees.

One cannot help but to stop and to stare

while standing still in the autumnal breeze.

Stare at the mountains clad in old forests,

Blazing with fire before their season’s sleep,

As the sun falls slowly into the west.

Soon all will seem dead, but yet do not weep:

It is nothing more than a rest well earned.

Soon the nights will grow long and dwarf the day,

Life will settle down to sleep after it burned

all summer long. Remember as all turns grey

That we are mere months from spring and rain

That brings new life, new joy we cannot contain.

(Trying out this whole soundcloud thing)