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Thank goodness there is a poem forum. I had to write this somewhere and my Word wasn't working. -_-''

In writing this just now, I felt not greif, not anger, but in a way, a kind of tragic calm. I don't mean for it to sound whiney, or anything of the sort, it's more of a goodbye letter to friends who I was once inseperable with...and now, we've all chosen seperate paths. We still see one another, but they've (and I'm sure myself as well) have changed so much that I can't really stand to be around them anymore. As if they are a completely different person.
Anyways, here's the poem, sorry if it seems so depressing. ^_^''



Back Burner
You people who loved me,
You people who cared.
I look for you now, but
You are no longer there.
Now You are with your lovers,
and with your men.
You are with your coworkers,
and even,
with new friends.
I told you all this would happen.
We were spinning out of control.
None of you bothered to listen...
So why am I the one alone?

This isn't a whine,
nor a complain,
it can be a simple question,
left hovering,
until we meet up again.

It isn't a good-bye letter,
though sometimes I wish it to be.
For you all seemed to have moved on,
and changed,
and left me.
But as people say, 'don't burn your bridges'
'Don't cut off your contacts'
'stay as their friend for a little bit further.'
'Just....
'Put them on the back burner.'

(I'll try to listen,
and wait paitiently
Until one day you see
you forgot something,
and come back to claim me.)

Morning Dawns
I snuck from my structured cage today,
And ran deep into the out.

I stopped when I came to the trees,
Heavy dew upon their leafy bowels.

I looked up to the sky,
Where the clouds had drained the night,
Into colors more visible in light.
The shades began and ended,
In multicolored hues,
Of yellows, pinks,
And oranges,
Then blues.

I did not hear the birds sing,
They were still asleep.
I did not see the sun,
For it had not begun to peek.

I did however see the mist,
Swirling bout my face,
Encouraging my own breath,
To join among its race.

I did however feel the chill,
That accompanied this morning,
A sign of birth,
A sign of life,
A sign of new things coming.

Then the sky brightened,
And the yellows disappeared.

I sighed at the light,

I listened as the birds cheered.

The wind shook through the trees,
They loosened their grip of dew.

Morning had began,

My minutes here were few.

I looked back to my house,
My life.
Then with a hesitant pace,
I bid the birthed day adieu.

"I will see you"
I said, "Tomorrow."

"When you are born again."

Morning
Leap from a nightmare,
Dive into a dream.
Let the mist surround you and,
Travel somewhere serene.
Entwine your veins with spider webs
and dangle by life's sweet thread.
Wake up in the morning,
step outside,
and live.

I am speechless.

Listen was enthralling.

Dunno why, but I've never been the sort of 'nature poem' reader/writer... it makes me wonder... I mean... I love nature (one of the reasons why I like camping, traveling and that sort of things) and I love photography... specially landscapes and such... however I could've not captured myself a Morning as you did... nor a Moon as you told... (maybe it's the camera, I dunno hehe!) and certainly not the words for them either...

I certainly would enjoy to read more of yours...

Thank you. *Hugs*

That's always been a small favorite.

What is it like,
Little old woman?
To live such a life
Unfit for any human?
What is it like?

What is it like,
Little old woman?
To live such a life,
of constant pain?
What is it like?

What is it like,
Little old woman?
To live such a life,
of the same trash, over again?
What is it like?

What is it like,
Little old woman?
To live such a life,
On the border of society,
where a cardboard slate
and dried black marker
for paint,
are your only window to the world?
What is it like,
Little old woman?

To live such a life,
filled with such strife,
unfit for any human,
Always in pain,
seeing the same trash over again,
An outcast of man?

What is it like?