Oak sonnet

You are to me a fallen oak tree,

whose limbs are turned and bent.

A soul who reached so high to be free

but the wind was harsh and down you were sent.

Those stars were your guiding beams,

softly stitched doll whose gift was a song,

shaken so hard you fell apart at the seams,

broken. Singing has never felt so wrong.

You can't fathom why the caged bird sings,

as those bars came down they made one persistent note,

voice aching while you remember the joy it brings,

as your eyes watch your feathers float.

No more music all fallen leaves,

a bird who barley knows how to breathe. 

This is an original poem please do not steal!

An unreliable lie

Pieces of glass sleep upon my bed

'you made your bed, you lie in it'

I walk down a hall to our shelter.

With a dog's nose I smell the air.

Sickly sweet, it slows me.

With a cat's eyes I look there.

Painfully real, it shows me.

With a slow child's feet I take a step.

Suddenly aware, it takes me.

With a mute's tongue I plead my case.

Harshly put, it shakes me.

We have been thrown before

we are but dust on winter coats in summer.

Thrown from one worthless treasure to another.

How quickly we have fallen.

Who is to blame for our ship's sinking?

A siren sings to our loved ones.

They have cursed us with ourselves.

A permanent mirror rests in front of us. 

Our reflection has captured us.

So unfairly painted is the story of our lives

where every truth is far more intricate 

than the lies we had hoped would save us.

We are fallen and you claim there is no shame in it.

Lies!

We are full of shame.

Turning on one another.

A hungry beast whose meal is blame.

For this dead animal you try to will back to life.

'Your only as strong as your will'

What will you have me do?

For a vacant heart,

A rented soul.

A place to hide our truths in boxes,

A pretty garden and under each tulip,

We strategically buried those stories.

Your hurtful parents are in a box,

behind the family memories we couldn't afford,

inside the room that none is allowed in. 

Our dinning room laughs at us

for every night they're left empty 

with a lost identity they turn manic.

'If only you could save us'

from what are we "saved"

Do you even remember who the villains are anymore?

I am not a threat,

but I am terrified of myself.

I am afraid of the truths I'll find,

in boxes at the end of the hall.

I am not as skilled as you.

My dreams and nightmares draped on my dresser for the world to see.

I'm not smart enough to hide them well.

Their stories so intertwined they're tangled.

Knots and loose ends lay unscathed.

A mountain whose summit is unknown.

We are a beast who mastered in lies,

in hiding inconvenient truths,

in carrying light in the dark. 

We are not blameless,

not shameless.

Who do I hold accountable for my lies?

My unfair truths?

My unfortunate circumstances?

Tell me who to blame!



This is my original work please do not steal!

Showbuisness

When was it that, what I was given defined me?

I've been given a lot so, it's so hard to remember

what I was and what I am now.

I just can't remember!

It's agonizing how turbulent these waters seem,

how easily agitated they are.

It seems as though you could fracture a whole ocean

with just one touch.

The wind picks it up and hurls it against itself, over and over.

The rain becomes just as unforgiving when it's cold,

let's face it, when is it ever warm.

I remember when it was, I can't recall who I was

or how old.

I can only remember how the sun felt.

How it seemed to shelter me from the shade, it painted me

golden, I was worth something to the sun.

The music the sun sang was beautiful so, soft and sweet

it was a sun drenched lullaby.

While the breeze blew it was warm and it smelled sweetly.

Now it's dark and cold, it smells of salt and the sun seems to have swallowed itself.

It has left me here.

How I hate the sun, I hope I never see it again.

What farms and Santa claus have in common

My pets don't die
They love and breathe until a farmer takes them away
On a farm full of mice and hens
Fat and happy

My parents told me their just sleeping
Dreaming happy dreams full of whimsy
Safe and sound

They were never run over
He skillfully crawled out of harms way
Up the tire inside the engine a man found him later
Asleep and purring

No, my cats are lucky you see because
Mom and dad told me

While I cried mom said he's fine don't me sad
I wasn't I was mad.

I'm not strong enough for you to be honest
You don't trust me to do what's right

I have night mares and I have eyes
When it gets dark you don't need to turn on a light
Flowers don't blossom in the shade
Constantly sheltering me

When it rained it poured and there was no one to save me
It seems I was over due for a visit with reality

My pets don't die, they talk in my slumber
Their lucky and frolicking on farms
Where it's sunny everyday and it never storms.

How they are lucky their not me basking in the sun of immortality.