Poetry 2014 by Odessa McNiel (love story books to read .txt) 📖
- Author: Odessa McNiel
Book online «Poetry 2014 by Odessa McNiel (love story books to read .txt) 📖». Author Odessa McNiel
They do not know the power
And strength of your love.
They are merely a rookie,
Toying with emotions.
One hazardous spill
Could cause quite the commotion.
But for now I'll suffer
In hopeless agony
While you decide
What cards fate will play.
Tears 9/2/14This churning mass,
This swirling blue,
Tipping and pouring emotions.
It floods,
Spilling down those
Blush red cheeks.
They sting,
And they tickle
As they continue to trickle.
Splashing.
Drip.
Drop.
0500 (9/4/14)The room is full and crowded,
People rushing everywhere.
Tubes hang limply in midair.
Epinephrine,
Liquid adrenaline.
The heart has stopped.
Injecting into veins.
Nothing happens.
CPR.
They pump the chest.
Thirteen pumps, two breaths.
A couple broken ribs.
The process is on repeat.
Still nothing happens.
Ten minutes pass.
Then they stop,
No more compressions.
No more drugs.
The heart has stopped.
It is lifeless.
Time of death: 0500
Home 10/16/14Home is where
The green grass grows.
Home is the feeling
Of red dirt between your toes.
It's running through
The pouring rain
And standing beneath
The dark night's stain.
Home is you
Holding me tight
While we sit
Beneath the bright moonlight.
Home is where
The heart is.
It's the place you grew up,
And it'll be the place
You miss the most.
Home is that little grey house
On that big, green hill.
Home is racing through the pines
In search of the cool, crisp creek.
Home is hot summers and
smelling honeysuckle on the breeze.
Home is simple
And a life of ease.
Home is where
The green grass grows.
It's running through
The pouring rain.
Home is you
Holding me tight.
Home is where
The heart is.
Home is that little, grey house
On that big, green hill.
Home is hot summers and
Smelling honeysuckle on the breeze.
This is my home,
And it belongs to me.
Inside 11/9/14It hurts to laugh.
It hurts to smile.
It hurts to hide the pain
That's burning me up inside.
All I want to do is cry.
I want to scream.
I want to emphasize this pain.
I want them to know how much it hurts.
But I'll fake that smile once more.
I'll put my emotions aside.
I'll hide the real side of this facade.
I'll make sure they won't see the real me.
BrokenA broken ring,
A broken promise,
A broken time, long forgotten.
An old box,
An old picture,
An old face from the past.
A moment of remembrance,
A moment of love,
A moment of pain, sorrow, and sadness.
A piece of bliss,
A piece of life,
A piece of what used to be.
A face with black hair,
A face with green eyes,
A face with all the love in the world.
A painful break,
A painful scar,
A painful reminder a blissful past.
An old ring,
An old promise,
An old time, now forgotten.
A new ring,
A new promise,
A new time for those forgotten.
A new job,
A new life,
A new baby to make things right.
A new town,
A new house,
A new memory to count.
Another baby,
Another memory,
Another blessing to count.
A few years,
A few diplomas,
A few memories now forgotten.
An old man,
An old woman,
An old, empty house now old and rotten.
A weak heart,
A weak breath,
A weak tear, flowing down his cheek.
A sad day,
A sad place,
A sad memory imprinted in time.
A lonely man,
A lonely love,
A lonely heart long past broken.
Another old box,
Another old picture,
Another old memory once shared.
A moment of remembrance,
A moment of love,
A moment of pain, sorrow, and sadness.
A moment of anger,
A moment of regret,
A moment of want, quickly waning.
A broken ring,
A broken promise,
A broken time, long forgotten.
Daddy, Don't Cry
I stand on the stage
In my cap and gown.
Twelve plus years of school.
Here I am,
Finally done.
I search the crowd,
Looking for his face.
The front row is where
I see him.
Daddy, don’t cry.
His salt and pepper hair,
Reflecting with the lights.
His brown eyes filled with sorrow.
His face blotchy and red.
Tears race down his cheeks.
We stare at each other.
And in that stare,
I see so many things.
So many… memories.
Daddy, don’t cry.
I see the day that I was born.
I see him holding me in his arms.
I watch as he kisses
My jet black curls.
I hear every whisper of love again.
I see my first day of pre-school
As he let go of my hand, knowing
That I’d be great some day.
Somehow, he knew he’d see me here one day.
Daddy don’t cry.
I replay every award ceremony
He’d ever attended.
He was there, I remember,
For every trophy
And every crown.
He told me he loved me
And that I was smart.
When all along, I knew,
I was breaking is heart.
Daddy, don’t cry.
He’s watched me grow up,
And he’ll help me move away.
But he knows I’ll be back one day.
I’ll see him again.
He knows I’ll be okay.
And when it’s his time to go,
I’ll be there for him
With tears in my eyes.
I’ll hold his hand,
And I’ll whisper,
“Daddy, don’t cry.
I’ll be okay if you leave.
I’ll still remember you
And every moment we spent together.
Just you and me.
“I’ll love you forever.
Close your eyes and rest.
It’ll be okay soon.”
I’ll sit by his side as he draws a final breath.
Daddy, don’t cry.
Emotions
I've been pondering
And wondering
And debating
Where we've gone wrong.
I don't know when
Or why
Or how
Or what got us to this lonely, sad place.
I've been talking to myself.
And it mindlessly comes mumbling
And tumbling
And sputtering out.
Every emotion
That has caused this commotion
Is oozing out of unsafe proportion.
I don't know how to control it
Or even if I should.
I wonder if its for the best
That I take the test.
I think it's returning now,
This sense of normalcy.
But part of me still wonders,
Can it really be the same?
If I Were DyingIf I were dying,
I'd hold you in my arms,
Giving you a shoulder to cry on.
And while you wept,
I'd dry your tears
And tell you about these last few years.
If I were dying,
I'd tell you all my deepest secrets
And all my fears.
I might even shed my own tears.
If I were dying,
I'd write book,
Giving the world a brand new look.
I'd tie up some strings
And maybe burn a few bridges,
But I know that I'll be forgiven.
If I were dying,
I'd wake before sunrise
And admire every sunset.
I'd visit the sites and go to Paris.
Climbing to the top is where my mind
Comments (0)