Poetry 2015, Odessa McNiel [fantasy novels to read txt] 📗
- Author: Odessa McNiel
Book online «Poetry 2015, Odessa McNiel [fantasy novels to read txt] 📗». Author Odessa McNiel
She walks these halls, silent and alone.
She hears those wild whispers
Even before they start to drone.
The judgemental stares
Let her know that no one really cares.
Her anger starts to flare.
She’ll grip that book tighter
But won’t say a word-
Not even one little phrase.
Why give them the satisfaction
Of seeing her in so much pain?
Why would it matter?
No sympathy would be shed.
Not even a sorry-
A much needed apology not even said.
Is it too much to ask
For one little companion?
Someone to let the wall down for.
Someone with whom to share the hurt.
Someone to love to the core.
‘That’s what He is for.’
She thinks silently to herself
As she puts her real face on a shelf,
Protecting it with a thick layer of dust.
She’ll trade it out for the heavy bust
That she’ll put on in mirror.
She’ll ignore the chinks
And finely tuned nicks
In its once porcelain reflection.
It’ll last for another day
As it guards her from what they say.
But how long will it take
For that face to crack and crumble to rubble?
How many punches can she take
Before her emotions burst at the seams?
When is enough really enough?
Frozen 3/5/15The slap of the shutter.
A click of the lens.
A flash of time.
What kind of picture
Did you have in mind?
Perhaps the innocence caught your attention?
Or maybe it was the dimples
That became your obssession?
Whatever it was, you stopped the clock
And froze me in place.
But it's the image that haunts you everyday
As you watch me grow up
And help me move away.
It's not something you'll ever erase,
And it won't be easily forgotten.
Because to you, I'll always have those dimples
And the chubby-cheeked face.
I'll always be innocent,
Despite what the others say.
To you, I'm that little girl,
Racing through the sprinkler
As you slap the shutter
On time forever.
Times were simpler
Than just the picture
You now hold in your hand.
Things were tangible
And blissfully perfect.
Maybe that's why
You chose that moment...
Nobody's Perfect 3/16/15
Perfection,
It's just a concept.
No one is perfect.
Some people are just
Better at faking it.
Perfection,
Cut to a T,
No mistakes,
Not a single hair our of place,
Held together with glue.
It's just a concept.
One chip in the gooey coating
And all Hell breaks loose.
Their secrets bubble to the surface,
Ready to be popped by enemies.
No one is perfect.
There's always going to be
That one person who
Points out your every flaw.
You're a fool to think you don't have any.
Some people are just better at faking it.
They glue on that mask each day,
Pretending to be the superior
To your inferior.
But someone always knows
Where your real demons lie.
I Will Go Home 3/20/15When the last man has fallen,
The gunfire has ceased,
And the arms are laid away,
I will go Home.
The trumpet's march will blare,
And your heart will quietly flare,
But have no fear, my love,
I will go Home.
They'll pound those medals in,
Each a striking round.
And when the 21 sound,
I will go Home.
A folded flag will be the only memory.
Please, don't ever forget me.
It'll be the hardest scar to wear,
But it's one only you can bear.
I'll see you soon, darling,
But for now,
I will go Home.
HandsMy hands are lined with years,
But so very few are they!
Yet, they look weathered and beaten,
As if they were seventy
Instead of only seventeen.
It puzzles me so
As to how they got this way.
I wonder if it were the dreams
That I held on to for so long.
Maybe it was the disappointment
That's been roiling through me
All of these years.
But what about the suffering?
And what about the pain?
What damage did they inflict?
Maybe it's already begun to wane.
The heartbreaks and the losses
May have also crippled their soul.
Now, they ring themselves.
Around and around they go, curling
To block out the world,
Or, perhaps, to silence it all.
The Last Hour
60 minutes on the clock,
Counting down to the last second.
If it was your last,
What would you do with it?
Would spend that hour
With your significant other,
Wrapped in love's soft embrace
And loving with a lasting grace?
Would you sing the song
That gets stuck in your head
Over and over,
Until the end?
Maybe you'd take a seat by the ocean,
Watching day turn to night
And wonder how the colors bleed
Like paint into the water.
Maybe you'd drink a fine bottle of wine,
Savoring a rare flavor
You'd never taste again.
Or perhaps you'd waste it,
Playing that stupid game
You always keep your eyes glued to.
Is this how you'll go out?
The controller stuck to you
By the very sweat of your hands
With the headset wired to your brain?
Think about what they'd say
When you passed away.
How you never cared about anything
Except for that game.
Take the headset or phone
Or whatever you have from your hand.
Go spend some time with your family,
The love of your life,
Or simply a friend.
What conversations would come up?
What kind of surprises will arise?
Talk to them for your last hour,
Because the next could hold your demise.
ChildA child wears the face
Of the sad and forlorn.
Pain worn in the eyes
And in the fake smile
He plasters on his face.
The rags he bears
Hides, nothing, save
The bruises and scars.
From the tips of his fingers
To the soles of his feet,
There is no trace of muscle,
Only the indentions of bone.
They line his skin
Like tire tracks on dirt.
His filthy face,
Tear streaked and abandoned.
He stares at you with sunken eyes,
Pleading for the mercy,
That no one will show him
And waiting for the day
The pain will go away.
He opens his cracked lips
To utter one word,
One simple plea,
But it's whisked away
By the one he must obey.
You close your eyes to the injustice,
But you cannot deny the abuse,
Even in its smallest form.
Today's Society
The world turns every twenty-four hours,
But we don't even feel it.
We're so caught up in our own lives
That we absorb the shock
And ignore the beauty of it.
We imagine that our own lives
Are more important than another's.
But what we don't realize
Is that they matter
Just as much as our own brothers'.
We think our own pain
Is the only pain in existence,
When there's really someone out there
Who's feeling the same feelings.
We pretend that the world
Revolves not around the sun,
The biggest star in the sky,
But around ourselves,
The only star in our minds.
What's wrong with being selfless?
Has the world gone so insane
That
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