Wandering the Skies
Walk the Path
It’s hard enough to make our own mistakes, but it’s even harder when we watch others do the same. We all may feel alone all the time, but it’s all a part of the game.
Our hearts may break into millions of shards, and we stumble through the darkness without light, but in the end we must walk the path, so we should try to find what’s right.
We cannot always help one another, but as far as we know, we all try. Play the game and find the light, but in the end we all must fly.
I want to tell you something, try to get it straight. If you don’t listen, it might be too late.
There’s evil people out in the world, who don’t care about you. Beware of them, and their crazy thoughts, or you may become one of them too.
They rape, they steal, they think they’re cool. Unless you wish to die, don't act like a mule.
This is a warning you must heed, for if you don’t you’re in danger. You may come along and get hurt, by just one wandering stranger.
Wandering the Skies
She walked across water, through the black velvet sky.
She merrily watched as the stars flew by.
She walked as the night, wandering so aimlessly above.
She wanted no one, not one person for love.
The moon was her friend, shining down on her skin.
In this world her life was soon to begin.
She wanders the nights, floating above with the stars.
She watches as people below fly by in cars.
It’s her world, and watches from her perch.
She frowns at tragedy, but smiles at a church.
She’s a mystery to all, as you can tell.
She wanders with the night, chiming her own silent bell.
What Do I See?
What do I see when I look at you? Well I can easily tell your eyes aren’t blue.
If they are, then I must be wrong. But your cheek bones appear very strong.
Your lips full, color being no trouble. It’s very good that your eyes are made of double.
Your nose matches your mouth, along with your eyes. Your eyes full of emotions, and maybe some cries.
Your hair dark, maybe a pretty brown. It even seems you’d be pretty if you were to frown.
Your hair outlines your face, which is very good. Your eyes just perfect, look as if you see more things than you should.
You’re very pretty, beautiful, is the right word. If someone tells you otherwise, they’re just plain absurd!
I feel the blood dripping, pain throbbing through my body.
I can’t hear or feel, where am I?
I can’t see anything, I’m in the dark.
I can’t remember, what happened?
I look around, but still nothing.
Is anyone there?
I start to get dizzy, I’ve lost a lot of blood.
Do I need help?
I’m starting to get scared.
Can anyone help?
What’s in a Name
Rumpelstiltskin was his name Rumpelstiltskin was his game, But what if his claim for fame was to blame for leaving his lot to shame?
Rumpelstiltskin was his name but Rumpelstiltskin was his aim. Blinding him to blame for true love never came, ending him tame and maim, nothing to reclaim.
Rumpelstiltskin was his name and Rumpelstiltskin he became.
Whispers from my Heart
I can still hear you near but an eternity has passed since then because I once loved you dear, and that love did not last back when.
You haunt me like a ghost anew, and appear in my dreams each night, but I always see your face askew among your warm, comforting light.
The whispers awaken my cold, dead heart and they tell me that you are true, but dreams and ghosts cannot restart our love that we once knew.
My past, my future, my present now may call only your name, but the whispers in my heart avow that they will not be tame.
Haunt me, appear for love need be, and speak forever to my soul, for I believe we were meant to see our fates will take their toll.
He comes after me, smooth, but dangerous.
He charges but misses.
Every moment he moves faster, what did I do?
Have I betrayed him, or is it not me?
Where do I go, he’s got me cornered?
He stabs me, blood flowing out of the gash.
“Why!” I scream.
“It’s not you, it’s me," he said smoothly.
He then stabs through my heart.
I don’t understand.
Why Do I Feel Pain?
Why do I feel pain? Why do others not?I am dead and should feel nothing, but I still cry a lot.
I want the tears to stop, the pain to go away. I want this newcomer, to marry me and stay.
It wasn’t my fault, I was such a fool. Now my heart doesn’t live, but is frozen and cool.
How could I end like this? Why can’t I kiss the groom? But for now I must lay, in this god awful tomb.
I truly forgot, what it was like to love. To dance in the moonlight, and drift like a dove.
I fell in love again, but he ran to another. Why can’t I be his only one? Should I even bother.
He said he’d die for me, giving up what he has, to live with me, and listen to my life’s jazz.
I was the bride, and now I see. They should be together, and he let me free.
Life is a pain, when you’re in a bad mood. What is there to gain, with a crummy attitude?
I wish that I would just disappear. To become one with the air, and to be quite clear.
The world around me, seems so suffocating. It’s so sad, and so degrading.
What am I to do? How am I to live? Am I supposed to live my life, or randomly give?
I want to know, why is being me so hard. For I am me, just a wild card.
When the sun sets early, and it gets really cold, that’s when my life turns around, when my story’s being told.
I love to see ice and snow! I love to cover up, and that my whole family knows.
Snowflakes are never the same. I find bitter cold to be my fame.
Make a snow angel, or maybe snow cream. It’s summer right now, and Winter’s my dream.
To love and lose is never fair to me,
The sweet caressing heart to share my fear,
The empty hole, for now, without you near,
Is like wind lost here standing by the sea
Or the leaves that died for that fallen tree.
Love lost from you is like a timeless tear,
But I’m holding you in my arms right here
As if we are not intended to be.
I have disdained the ground you walk upon
And I hate the way that you smiled today,
Never wanting you to love me or to stay.
I’m what the earth would be without the sun,
To never see you again in that way,
But I will keep loving you, come what may.
I can only dream of him, though I know he’s watching nearby.
He laughs at when I trip, and comforts me when I cry.
Not everyone may believe, but to assure you, this is my reply:
I have a guardian angel and he will never say goodbye.
Would You Live a Memory?
Would you if you could, chose a day and live it over, what day would it be, and what would you remember?
Would you miss the people who are here now but weren’t there then, would you choose today, but redo that awful sin?
What of your true love, what if they appeared right after you decided? You would never meet that person, and wouldn’t be as delighted.
So, would you if you could, chose a day to live it over, what day would it be, and what would you remember?
She sits in her room, pen in hand.
She writes a story, A Girl on the Sand.
She pauses for one moment, and turns to another page.
She looks into her heart, which is in a cage.
She rights of her hopes, her dreams, her childhood screams.
Politely stating each persuasion, she tells of her life in this occasion.
Of the man who loved her so, broke her heart, and became her foe.
Telling of this girl I know, for I am her, and I must go!