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| New poetry coming soon and completely new site.
To anyone who actually reads this, and I doubt anyone does.
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| emBark
I change as the seasons,
I grow like a tree.
Each year,
Each scar,
Thickens me.
I may look small,
I may look frail,
But I am a tank,
Underneath this veil.
You can cut me,
You can burn me,
But I will still keep you warm.
You can strip me,
You can carve me,
But I will not conform. | | |
| The forecast called for sun today,
But it can never predict your bipolar ways.
You are the rain,
You come and go as you please,
Taking the sunlight
from out of me.
And these days I’ll stay inside,
Where I can watch
from a distance,
And try to hide.
But you never cease to find
a crack,
And it always drips beside
my bed.
Forming a river around me,
And I cannot
Escape.
I cannot fall asleep with you
on my mind.
“Tomorrow I’ll call to repair this leak.”
Tomorrow,
I always say.
But I cannot bring myself to block you out,
Nothing will keep you
away.
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| Leave Your Mark
I am a canvas.
A masterpiece in the making,
Or another failed attempt.
My future is yours for the taking.
Black and white,
Or Roy G. Biv?
Whatever you choose,
That’s how I’ll live.
And if I had a style
Would it be Monet?
Would I make a good impression,
If you were to put me on display?
Will you paint me with watercolor,
Or will you choose oil?
Through thick and thin,
Would you recoil?
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| Sacrifice
Tree branches curling and grasping the sky,
Where unwanted birds and insects abide.
Rings like wrinkles to reaveal it's age,
Trapped after death in every page.
Or containing these bones underneath the soil,
Or a refuge for the living to spoil.
It lives it's life always used,
And dies...
alone
and abused...
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