Category: POEMS

  • Music Box

    A familiar tune is playingCalling my nameReminding me of my younger daysA melody I can tasteIt’s notes on the tip of my tongueA velvety sweetness I’ve craved onceLingering in the backgroundA music box that has no sound. M.STEIN

  • A Writer Who Doesn’t Write

    I breathe in ideasAnd with my pen I give them lifeInventing worlds all around meMy characters haunting me dailyAbout what will happen nextHonestly, I don’t have a clueWhat the next scene should do. And so, they stay unfinishedI’ve blocked them outMy time is occupied and distractedBy everyday life. They begin…

  • I Choose Me

    I spent my life chasing butterfliesThey are hard to catch you seeFor only if they land on youIs it truly meant to be. I spent my life trying to belongBut nothing felt right for meI felt invisible for too longThe light never shined on me. I spent my life searching…

  • Lessons

    No matter where you’re going,Or where you’ve been,We all stand on this road.Many face it alone,But the fortunate ones have somebody by their sideWalking through each season as one watches the tides.It does not care if your rich or poor,You can’t bargain with your education hereYour looks fall flat on…

  • Little Handwritten Notes

    Notepad in hand,I write from the top of my headWondering what I should put down instead.Darker thoughts always come to mind,Might be easier if I wrote something else this time.The same words just renewed,Repeated back and said to youOpen a window,To get a view.Are you still reading this?Because I don’t…

  • Crumbled Pages

    What is a writer to do?When they cannot think of something new.The fragments of my mind all crumbled up,Tossed to the ground,While I dig something else up.The ink bleeds from its pages,Leaves me with empty spaces.Read them aloud so you don’t forget them now.Rereading my work,Looking for inspiration somehow.Don’t have…

  • Every Word

    What am I going to write?When there is nothing left.I’ve written every word,In my own defense.But overtime,It’s nothing new.The same old words,Reverse and said back to you.Bored as I’m writing this too!What kind of writer gets bored,In the process of writing for you.Guess a lot can be said,For a writer…

  • Embers

    The smell of death lingers in the air,And whose door does it knock on,But my very own.Maggots spill from my mouth,And crush beneath my bare feet,And who do I have to blame,But my own self defeat.A storm rage inside of me,And escapes from my eyes.Let the rain cascade from these…

  • Sandman

    The sound of time never ending in my mindAn infinite clock that doesn’t want to stop.Bury it down like the sands of time,Is the hourglass half full?Or am I wasting my time?Tic toc tic tocDo I even have a shot?The sandman is creeping as I start to drift off.Tic toc…

  • Window Light

    A light pierces the window above me,the shadows fill this room.A glowing light right next to me,is surprisingly brighter than the moon.And yet I lay here silent,encased by sounds all around.Reflected in my memories,imprinted in me now.And if you should be listening,to the poem I’m writing now.Just keep it in…