PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A lingering shadow

Follows as I open this wooden gate

Tall green trees line the path

Holding my breath hoping I’m not too late



These silent steps of mine

Raise clouds of dust as each foot hits the ground

Even though I’m sprinting

I feel my speed will sadly let me down



I hold this hopeless fear

Knowing child and mother are both gone

I let go of my hope

Yet still I’m racing to see what was done



They saw I came too late

They both knew because I never appeared

I wonder if they cared

Hopefully they died from their own despair



I’d rather they be dead

From the unearthly breaking of their hearts

Then to die from the flames

The slow fire that consumed all their parts



Maybe they came to peace

Before their untimely final life’s stroke

Maybe they saw God’s light

Engulfing flames so righteous that they’d choke



Not that it should matter

Either way both of them still don’t exist

Left in this world alone

I know now there’s nothing worse I could miss



And now here I find them

Two motionless figures still my own blood

Anger turns into rage

Overwhelmed by this emotional flood



I cry as I collapse

I’m not even able to hold myself up





Whoops I hit a writer’s block

Let me see if I can try again

**AHEM**





The flash of lightning and the roll of thunder

Darkened skies covering my dying summer



Maybe you can hold me in your beauty

Maybe you can save me and set me free



I know I could love you more then any other

I know I could please you as a spiritual lover



I can’t do this

I hate the meter

I hate the flow

The only reason I did it

I did it all for show



I tried to be nice like I was one of you

Writing poems like the rest

Trying to fit in, well guess what…

I’m through



I have my own little style

It’s quirky and odd

And it’s been working for me all this while



I love the comments

I love the helpful editorials

But in all seriousness I don’t give a shit

You can keep them to yourselves

I can go ahead and check my own level of poetic oil



Just for shits and giggles

Want to know where the start of this poem came from???

I was watching gladiator

And his death in the end

Made me as gitty as a girl going to the prom…



While I’m ranting

I guess I have one more customer complaint err irritation…

“Ohh no mister John,

Why do you always use those stupid triple punctuations???”



He he look I did it again…

Well ya know what Bob

Think of it as my signature

Is it really that much of a sin???



Well I guess I’ll stop I guess for now I’m done

And to think, when you started reading this

You though it’d might be a good one huh???