The sting of disappointment,
buries itself deep
It’s a shock of reality,
that makes your dreams feel cheap.
It lingers in your heart,
long after it is transpires
It makes your mind feverishly burn,
with unmet desires.
Disappointment knocks you down,
an inch at a time
Until other hopes and dreams,
sadly move aside.
It diminishes all but a small hope so dear,
the disappointment will disappear.
The night is empty but for the brightest star,
I reach to find, get out of my car
And slide like ice that’s on the ground
Melting on coals, a thick strange sound--
Plop--my feet in the air and arms
On the floor, my eyes on the ceiling,
The sky, I see it’s dark tonight
And wind and fire all alight.
My eyes go wide,
as I look around.
I woul have cried,
if I could make a sound.
Fear grips me,
and it won't release.
This is how it will always be,
I can't find peace.
I begin to shake,
and voices swirl.
This is more then I can take.
My thoughts start to wirl.
To late, he's here.
He is my bully.
Laughs come from people near,
ready to see him torture me.
But one person doesn't giggle.
She stands by my side.
This is my signal,
for my fear to slide.
Footprints (young writer, not new)
Footprints are echoes in the ground.
They stretch themselves out and repeat
Incessantly, until they become annoying.
Echoes like the ones in caves.
I never thought an imprint could make a sound
But every sad boot trail I see screams defeat.
Forget the wails of the dead, quit trying
To remember those who wish to be in graves.
Creation is a miracle
One we cannot explain
But when we reach the pinnacle
All we will have left is pain.
Do not try to cull
The fruits of Imagination Plain
The boots of Uncle
Sam leave traces on my brain.
Poetry is not dead
Any more than I
As much as I wish I was
Poetry keeps me alive.
I don’t know what you’d call this form of verse
Stuff it in your literary purse.
I rhyme at times
But mostly not.
She walks through a passage
Far across a meadow
Valiant,assured and valorous
The skylight shapes a shadow.
In a desire to accomplish an oath
her vision enlightens and she floats.
The dusk appears when the sun falls
Her soul’s endured and the fear enrolls.
Just like the wind blows,
She stumbles but flows
A melody she feels to sing
In the skylight where the moon’s still.
And the stars show a way more shining
for the approval of the night blinding.
She walks the night all alone
Unescorted by her family,friends or
anything that could be called a home.
And she goes on and on and on
further in the skylight of the rising dawn.
Winners— New and Young Challenge: Not Based On Likes-
alexis6- falling apart
Poethetic- Beware of me, my love
It has been my honor to read all 51 entries- 3 times each.
“The talent on the Prose-
from the “New and Young” is outstanding!
Thank you to everyone who participated in this challenge.
It warms my heart to know, poetry lives on-”
I am not my face
I look at my reflection,
and pick out every single imperfection.
I don’t see me,
I see a girl who is afraid,
she doesn’t know who she is
when she looks me in the eyes
but now they’re out of place
because their colour contradicts
the emotions they depict.
I see every freckle on her face.
they’re out of place.
I look away,
I look again,
it’s surely a mistake, it can’t be out of place...
There isn’t a pattern - no design,
not a hint of reason
The worlds a mess,
that’s just the face I’ve been assigned
I look away, I look again
there, and there again -
it’s out of place.
Where the fuck do I begin?
They don’t show you who I am,
they don’t show you what’s within.
I look away.
I don’t want to look again.