Her cries never seem to stop, the night only brings dread, beaten by the one she loves, nearly left for dead.
She finds a reason to stay, maybe she can make this right, in her mind there is still a chance, a possible end in sight.
Screams wake me from my sleep, he beats her once again, how can I just do nothing, how can she call me a friend?
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Started writing poetry officially in 1991, enjoy reading Edgar Allen Poe, reading and dissecting the Holy Bible, and listening to beautiful/inspiring people. Age has no bearing on creativity. Some of the most beautiful things come from those of much lesser age and life experiences. So listen to those young people!
Songs echo in twilight, shadows enjoy the melancholy tune, day shifts to the darkness, movement of evil resumes.
Movement through time, they have no home or place, remembering only regrets, depression fills their face.
I see the sky,. Up so high,. I want to touch,. Oh so much,. When there was rain,. The clouds were in pain,. I wished to make them better,. So there could be nicer weather,. And I saw the sky,.
The grass was dry, The grass was short, The horses whinnied full of retort. The water was green, It needed a clean. And the fence was wire, Which gave you a shock.
When you feel like words, Can never build walls - Yet break them within a heartbeat, You see the how people will fall.
When tomorrow seems So far away You wished it'd never come Yet you know deep down Inside yourself Tomorrow will be rough.
They say hindsight shines clear as ice, But to watch the event occur, it depends. Some swear they know it in a trice, Yet some never it fully comprehend.
Crushing battles deep inside, Fighting rage with an even face. Despite the persuasions of hate and pride, Suppress, distract, for an easier place. Never hate, but tolerate, Let the anger arrive late.
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