Anchored:, Ana Suzanne W. [most recommended books .TXT] 📗
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- Author: Ana Suzanne W.
Book online «Anchored:, Ana Suzanne W. [most recommended books .TXT] 📗». Author Ana Suzanne W.
When silence was a wished for thing
And no one plotted demise
A place in which we all could dream
Together all as one
A place in which we all could live
Together, harmonized
The Vacancy
Staring out the window
The empty chair below
The wood cracked with age
The wicker torn
The vacancy in my heart
Swells with every passing glance
Upon the empty chair
Upon which used to sit
My fate.
But all that's left
Is shattered dreams
And fear, cold smiles, and tears.
The moon reflects my dispair
And the sky reflects my shame
The wind outside howls around the house
Where I stand before an empty chair
And an empty life
And an empty dream.
An Ugly TransformationThis was an excercise that we did during a SWAT (Student Writers and Artists Together) meeting. We looked at a picture and just wrote. It is a very "compelling" way to write.
His eyes black as night
His pale skin white with leprosy
Shrouded by a dirty, unwashed beard and fiery red hair
His glance is sinister
His gaze dejected
The demons inside of him
Begging to be free
The torment he endures being himself
How they laughed at him,
Cursed at him, broke his hard heart
How they hurt him, why don't they see
That in the pursuit of his downfall
They've become what he is.
Seasons I (Eyes)
Open eyes
Observant they are
All they can they see
Functioning, magnificent
Staring up at me.
Bright eyes
Lovely they are
All they can they see
Beautiful, innocent
Staring up at me.
Faithful eyes
Tearful they are
All they can they see
Honest, mature, kindly
Staring back at me.
Remembering eyes
Thoughtful - yes they are
All they can they see
Sweet and reminiscent
Staring back at me.
Seasons II "Summer"
Summer never was so sweet
As when the sky rained honey
On you and I.
When we were together,
And the rain was gentle,
And the breeze was soft.
When you and I was,
Collectively, us.
When we could call on
Time as not mattering,
When all was perfection.
When we loved all
And all could love us.
Before the dawn set,
And twilight awoke.
When all was perfection,
When the day was still young.
AmericaHow we began was different than most
Oppressed and anxious, our voices stifled
Under the despotic tread of a tyrant
Little of anything had we to boast
We chaged; our desiderium, to the king, was a trifle
Fighting back, was our last course
Reconciliation's rays of hope were gone
In the bitter end, freedom came as the dawn.
After the black of night of war and remorse.
Our own country we became at last;
Moving on, we tucked away the past.
Yet, segregation against fellow creature
Caused the nation to be rent apart
By simple hue and callous hearts.
Shall the war-wounds forever be
Black on the page of history
A bloody, gruesome, rugged feature.
Persons came, people went
Time progressed; poverty wealth, and sentiment.
World Wars engulfed and encumbered
While the scrupulous founding fathers slumbered.
Time progressed, morals waned.
Their slow death did not cause us pain.
What has happened to our valient nation?
No longer can we be valued
As a high and mighty world power
When the morals we portray
Are disregard, unloyalty and frustration.
A friend has become an exquisitely rare flower.
Yet, some steadfast few remain.
We fought for our freedom, we fought for our rights.
Out strength is not measured by military power.
It is measured by the valor we portray in fights
And yet we can still rekindle the flame
And the time we lost we can still regain.
A Night Without SlumberOutside, the sind screams an angry sort of song
Inside, I've no dreams; oh, the night seems so long.
Listlessly, I stare into the void of my dark room.
"Bury me now," I cry, "Let this be my lonely tomb!"
Thoughts race through my empty mind
Of fate and fortune that I will never find.
A night without slumber, lonely and bare,
Taxes the courage, multiplies the cares.
Never all for NaughtA cry in the black of night-
A howl of dispair-
Originated in the deepest, most hidden,
Places in my soul.
Those tears I've cried won't matter
The shame I've born will burden me no more.
For time will press a heavy hand,
On those places in my soul.
The time I've dedicated - all those hours
The tears I cried for you
For they were never cried in vain.
They alleviated your inner pain.
I am worn, careworn,
Broken in mind and soul.
For that I have ever loved
Is shattered on the ground.
And yet, oh yet, a light still shines
For you on your horizon.
Take the light; claim the sun!
Dear friend, it was never all for naught!
Another Soul DepartedAs a child of eight
I was innocent,
Sheltered from the terrors of death.
I was oblivious to it,
Yet it surrounded me.
For my mother's father's mother
Lived in a nursing home.
As a joyous child of eight,
I was loved by the residents there.
One particular lady, temperamentally sweet,
Became my very dear friend.
Though I may try,
To reach back into the depths of my memory,
I cannot remember her name.
She would smile at me,
Talk to me, push her walker playfully after me,
Until she was gone.
She was weak, yet sweet and optimistic.
A year had passed, I wondered where she was.
I searched, she was gone, another soul departed.
I inquired, she was gone, a sweet soul, another soul departed.
What's Really Going OnWhat really goes on inside my brain -
Sometimes I think I'm the only one who can't refrain
From shedding some tears every now and then.
Often, I feel like it's all crashing down.
It's like every day, raining on the sun.
I can't see the light through the drops pouring down.
What really goes on, inside my head
No one but me would understand.
I'm all alone, so far from land.
Does nobody seem to know what it's like to be lonely?
In what really goes on...
Nobody but me can feel the pain -
The shame of being me.
I only see the dark when the sun is
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