Poems
page 2
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It must be nice
To begin to say "I Love you"
And realize you're talking to a click.
An empty phone line.
I'm on the other end,
I don't have that spark,
That trace of hope
That uppers my phone bill
And lowers my life expectancy.
People are what they seem
Until you dig deepre,
Until you try to find out what they really are.
THey might really care,
Be as real as they seem at first glance
(Yeah right)
If everything was what it was,
There wouldn't be any tears
Or one-sided phone conversations.
Maybe,
People are meant to get hurt.
And maybe
I don't want to be a person anymore.
I know you didn't mean it,
When you said goodbye.
You didn't really turn your back
When I began to cry.
I know we'll be together,
I know she's not your one.
This won't be my reality,
It can be better done.
Don't cry, he says, but that won't make her tears feel better.
She's handed empty words like poison on a silver platter.
And so she takes it; take the best that you can get
But if it's her they're fixing,
Why does she have to fret
That she's not good enough an actress,
That feelings do leak through
Her only wall,
The face that takes it all,
And seems to heal,
And knows to thank them too?
She lives not for herself, she lives to calm then down.
For if they didn't care,
She'd put herself at peace
And be long gone.
In my dreams I know I'm smiling,
Only you're not listening.
How sweet the sound of dialing,
How sharp the hangup sting.
All is perfect - keep pretending.
Grab my paper smile and go.
My imagination's ending,
Soon the real me will show.
Talk to me as if you mean it,
Walk away like you'll be back.
Don't remind me that my feelings
Always lead me in a trap.
It started in the hallway.
Maybe, it was
The way he talked
Slowly, accenting every syllable
Or the way she moved her feet
To the beat of a song in her head,
Ignoring his concerns.
They didn't understand each other,
Not now, not anymore, not ever again.
As she walked him to the door,
It would be
The last time
Things had been okay with them
Again.
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The memories are screaming in her head:
Friends, grades, good moments to remember.
But middle school to her is good as dead;
She's starting all anew come this September.
Time drifts along, and everyone is trapped
On the conveyer belt of life
Which moves entirely too fast,
For rash decisions are addicting.
Mistakes are layered in old days
Closed off by doors too fast
To think to try and fix them.
She leaves so much behind
That could be changed (she hoped)
If there had been another year.
But there'll be new mistakes to make,
New faces she'll find pleasing.
As she goes on, she'll have her memories to take
Of four years so sweet,
So challengingly easy.
The sky goes gray.
A sudden blast of wind
Sweeps over the nation.
The blackness blinks,
And clouds move apart
As thunder roams,
The hymn that welcomes chaos.
They scramble to apologize for things
They meant the night before,
And shield themselves
And things envisioned dearly.
Not failing
To remember to forget
The seat.
The old and lonely chair.
As air weighs down,
A single drop
Dissects the moveless ground.
And all are gone
But those who cannot movethemselves inside,
To burning logs
And frenzied words,
Who learn to value blessed silence.
To ponder times
When one who's sat on learns to sit,
And time is but a joke.
As drops incrase,
As Nature rages on the earth,
A tinge of peace is found.
For rain will drop,
And rain will dry,
And losses will be grieved.
But those who live with no loss,
With no transition from this eart,
Who never change and never win,
That peace is guaranteed.