PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When I was older, I buried my friend.

When I was older, I had to pretend.

When I was older, I thought about the end.

When we were young, songs were sung!

When we were young, we ran from bees that stung!

When we were young, we played on swings and swung!

When I was older, I had to change. 

When I was older, life became strange.

When I was older, love was unrequited.

When we were young, was when love was first invited. 

Now I’m old, and wishing I were young. But you’re gone, my soul is sold, and my heart is now wrung.

Forty years and what do I have to show? 

A whole lot of heartache, 

Too many dreams I let go. 

A lot of tears I've cried, 

Feelings of worthlessness, 

A lot of hope that's died.

Bad poetry written late at night, 

Long after I should be asleep, 

I'm kept awake by this eternal fight. 

Feelings of pity and sorrow. 

Wondering if I will ever be good enough, 

Hoping for a happy tomorrow

Fourty years  with nothing to show. 

What next? 

I just don't know. 

I guess I should try to right all I've done wrong, 

Throw my depression right out the door, 

Before another 40 years is gone. 

Cause when my time is up, only my memory will be left behind. 

I don't want to be forgotten

The hands of time don't have a rewind

Fourty years, I've wasted now. 

What do I have to give the world? 

Bad poetry, a few broken dreams,

I must move on somehow. 

Throw all my pity out the door 

Live the dreams that still remain. 

Smile and pray for Fourty more. 

"This is it,

the last time.

Not my last time,

for there will be many more,

but before I go,

take a second.

Or two.

As though leaving a humble abode

for the last time.

Or realistically,

one to be proud of,

one no need for humility.

A tendency to be crass, 

the one-stop coffeeshop 

that was the first building

foot stepped in,

the exact final destination

of a journey

across from

one Ocean to the next.

First impressions,

wild differences between

vernacular and tone,

'shaka brah', 

and an immediate inquiry

as to where the hell

I come from.

Brash,

but immediately warm

the very first contact

turned out to be,

only to observe

more than a year of stumbles,

pieces scribbled,

baristas in and out,

one to be a brother

calling this location

headquarters,

locomotives blaring by

in a flash of red

everyday.

Bicentennial

the count not of years,

but of poetic conveyance,

written in the soft glow

of this shop,

this shop the subject

times so often giving

detail to who,

what, where,

and how that one girl,

that one time,

smelt as she walked by.

Edited,

the time spent 

since the Spring,

but some things never change,

and that's how at home

I feel in this booth.

Bottoms up,

here's to you,

one last brew,

one last time. 

No more lines

to be written

here,

skate to the next place,

though it won't be the same."

With falsity and neglictory,
With lies and efiface,
With hope begone a truth,
Thy soul bounded  multiude.

Begone a hopeless dreams.
Beyond  a place unseen.
An  abyss of solitude,
Ages of things begone.

Beyond a mighty shield,
A pile moves/grows,
Not Delay  taint unclean,
Ever  vigilant of change.

An act  that lies,
Can only be ugly,
A move made already,
Cannot be taken back.

We see  an illusion.
They show a mirage.
A move already made,
And they keep it so.

Rebel Rebel hopeless soul.
Fight, Fight lest unfilled,
Through thy Red blood,
Keep the fight  alive.

Thy hand hold another,
lest be bad end.
A fight continue definite,
A fight won Indefinite.

A world unseen granted,
For those beyond grasp,
A rising sun uncovers,
For they deserve it.

And it all started,
With a single phrase,
"Let it be so."
Will it be though?

- Eventim

I don't believe I'm as old as I am

Inside im just a little kid wishing I was sixteen I wish It would of been a better sweet dream

Growing older each day is to me it seems

The saddest realization of this sinking ship

I wish I just could

Stop myself from

Getting any older.

Remeber when my dad

Would push me off 

So I could ride

My bike.

Or when my mom

Would show me

How to read on those 

Warm summer nights

And all the roads

We traveled down

To see the things

I dreamed about

Oh I wish just could

Stop myself from

Getting any older.

One day I could find a

Love and we could

Start it over

And maybe we could

See are selves

When we were that much young.

And I know just can't

Stop myself from

Getting any older

Reminiscing about the past,

How it tends to last,

The memories of our days,

Spent living them away.

Fire is dancing

Gems are shining

Stars are falling down

Something's coming out

Dark road against my path

Light is shining bright

Can't ignore these signs

Should show them what I got

Shooting to number one

Breaking bars, having fun

Sleeping on the cloud nine

Seeking words that would rhyme

This is the Golden Age

I'm on the Utmost Sky

This is the Peak of Time

I'm on the Perfect Chase

Taking break on heartbreaks

Flying high from lakes to seas

Writing lines from tears to bliss

Bleed hard and celebrate

Never saw this coming

It left my soul singing

I never knew I could reach

The skydreams I once wished

I feel to get out of here

I feel like celebrating

Drop the confusion

Adore diversion

Bring out the cake,

It's a new day

We'll make the sun shine so bright,

We'll make it shine till midnight

We talk about our crushes

Say things with all those hushes

Before we dance around

Be free with no chains bound

Then we go to our classes

I put on my sunglasses

Now, my mates don't know what to call me

But all I want is to be happy

We know people good and bad

Some can make us really mad

Even if we see a thousand mean girls

We know life has many to offer

I'm feeling 17

We dance like no one's there

We dare to do those sins

We should fly to nowhere

Fall in love the worst way

Cry and laugh every day

Watch the stars in the sky

Wish as they shine so bright

Now that I'm 17

We explore many things

Before I turn 18

Let's make hell out of this