The Moon

I wondered many times About the moon and the stars And how they all shine so bright I flustered at the sight Of how stars filled up the sky Over the moon oh so high. Why can’t there be more moons Than stars? Maybe the sky would be brighter; Would be lovelier And I will

Pain

Stealthy pains Furtive lies Secret implies I am bleeding. I am hurting. From a distance   In response to NovemberNotes challenge hosted by Theresa Doughty of Heartstrings Eulogies and Rosema of A Reading Writer. Day 19 Prompt: Pain Told Love by Tribe Society

Breathe

Breathe, I tell myself to breathe I can’t afford to cry In front of those who don’t know The reason why I lie About how I feel. Please don’t be real Be a figment of my dreams Don’t have a face I lie About what I see Blinded by the chaos of this city.  

Create

P.S. Poem written by my 14 year old daughter.  

Full Moon

    Scorned. Mourned. I can forgo. I can hate. I can spite. I can let go. Devotion. Affection. I can only do. For you on that evening; When the night is beaming. For you on a full moon; When you hurt me soon. Scorned. Mourned. On that full moon, I will never let go.