Poetry of the Ages, Kaitlin Chenoa Humphries [best contemporary novels txt] 📗

was being forgotten by those around me
unseen by those who passed me.
I kept my head down hiding my pain
hiding the mental abuse I'd been put through.

But let me tell you this
your grasp was not meant to stay.
There was one person who saw in me those dreams
who could see the things you'd made taboo
see the promise that you had told wasn't there.

He freed this useless bird from her cage
and she flew!
Yes she flew because with this persons words she found her dreams
the nightmares you instilled disappeared.

My life became my own to mold
but...
were my dreams still reachable?
Even with my freedom I found that after being locked away
I was still a bird without purpose.
My wings were no longer clipped but
my gizzard no longer knew the way home
knew the way to the future that I deserved.

I was broken needing guidance.
seeking and never finding it,
the person who freed me had left me on my own
I had no hint of my path, no idea of where to go.

What could a person so lonely do
but to hide the broken pieces
then create a new life
a new person to hide behind
till I can find that one person
who can see past this facade
this smile, this love that I can show so easily
the person who sees how broken and lost I truly am
who sees the abuse I'd gone through.

This person will teach me to fly
teach my gizzard to find it's path home
teach me to follow my dreams
so that I go from a bird without purpose
to one with purpose, who knows her fate and her life.
Because this bird will one day grow strong wings again.


Who am I?

Am I nobody in this dying world?
Alone forever beneath the sun and moon?
Am I a faltering wind to never brush upon the shoulders of man?

If I am not worthy of your love
then I AM nobody in this world
for how can I be somebody
if you are not here to make me so?

What am I to be
but a slave to my own solitude
shackled to the very fire
that is supposed to keep me warm.

If I can not have you
I am worth nothing
because no matter how I tried
I couldn't be perfect enough.

What would I be left with?
But to find if the smallest warmth
where I could feel even a shimmer of love
even if it would not be the love you would have given.

And with this small warmth
from a small patch of embers
I'd settle contently
because it is what is left.

I would try to be the perfect wood piece
to ignite the embers
in effort to be engulfed in a love I'd have lost.
But only flickers of flame would cross my body
large almost consuming flames would come for a while.
Till of course one who could be so perfect
without practice, without teaching would come along.

But I'm still wanted...
a third wheel to this love
a slave if one will consider it.
Would I be able to lock my emotions up
to ignore the perfection he sees in her
to remember the love i lost before them?

I am sure I would go mad
crazy and lost, no longer with hope
I would move like it's a habit
talk only when spoken to.
I would become an empty shell
no feeling
no love left cause none was given.

But in the back of my mind I'm sure
your face would swim into view
then I'd have to wonder...
who am I?
Am I truly nobody?
Truly nothing because the one thing I loved
the thing who had my heart
went away?
Could I ever be somebody again?


She'd been used

She'd been used
abused
pulled in every which way possible.

She can't explain
couldn't explain
because she just couldn't form it correctly.

When it left her lips
she'd realize the mistake
the way he'd take what she said
so she turned around to try to fix
to explain further what she meant
then he'd think she was a liar
making up a story as she went.

She felt broken and used
her mind shattering as they continued to fight
she lost it finally.

She's pulled herself back into the black void
picked up a pencil and wrote a poem
something she hadn't done in a very long time
a poem about herself
about her pain.

She drug out her skeletons
her pain seemed to be her drug
her addiction
because no matter what she did
she found herself always wallowing in it again.

She couldn't run away from it
she couldn't find sanctuary...
the one thing she'd find perfect
would break with just a touch.

But who was she to deny herself more of this pain?
So she would get on her knees to beg
to try and explain.

The only time she seemed able to truly explain
was through the words in her poetry
which always told truth.
But how could she make him listen
make him understand...
if he was too pissed to talk
to understand.

So instead she just draws into her void
not wanting to ever come out again
because it was the last straw before she would break
the thing to that would ruin her
and make her wish she could just die.

Imprint

Publication Date: 11-28-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
This is full of my poems from over the time I've written them. I have many more but to me these are the most prominent I think