Forgotten

Living in my dark sorrow

Sunshine from time to time when not hidden as if I was pinned to a crime. My shadow dark never leaving my side dragging me down always making me cry. My first memories blamed for things done to me, not knowing to keep or release from me. People bad never sorry for my sorrow, sometimes I wish for no tomorrow. 

By Rob Casteel

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Life as a Sailor's Wife

'I don't want this life anymore'

A thought she often thought

Left behind, feeling hopeless

Love was easy

Holding onto feeling forgotten

Made even easier

The ache in her heart

The heaviness in her head

As every day began a battle

she fought to keep moving forward,

Knowing that it wasn't forever

The leaving of a lover,

The wait of their return

Over and over,

And repeated again

The life of a Sailor's wife

More glorified than treasured

Author's Notes/Comments: 

8/23/2014

Pretty Hurts

Folder: 
Miscellaneous

Magazines and T.V. screens

show these girls all day

Pretty little creatures,

who show what we should say.

Who smile in front of the camera

but cry behind closed doors,

forcing themselves into delusion,

Until they can't find "them" anymore...

We raise them to believe only beauty

will determine their worth.

And to try and maintain a facisimile of perfection

Because the world will only see the very worst.

We make them parade around

pretending to be little airheads

"What's in your head doesn't matter,"

we teach our girls to be brain dead

We teach them they need to be thinner

to throw up who they want to be,

No personality is what matters,

Bimbos are what we think are "pretty."

We tell them they have to fix themselves

but you can't fix what is with in.

You must keep down the sadness you feel,

to show an opinion is basically a sin.

You could enter a paegant,

and come on top the winner,

and they'll still find something to pick up

"You could always be thinner."

We cause these girls to lose themselves,

telling them they cant be happy.

We tell them they need to add more makeup

thats the only way to be pretty.

Press on nails, and fake eyelashes,

erasing who they were with determination.

Telling girls they'll soon be perfect, but...

"Perfection is the disease of a nation

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Inspirsed by Beyonce's Song... Link on bottom

Pretty Hurts:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXXQLa-5n5w

 

Anything in parenthesis is a lyrics from her song.

No copy right infringement here folks :D

Lost to Sea

light a fire just to watch it burn
Sit across the street with empty hands
Behind a tree unnoticed, so it's not my turn 
I have infinite thoughts, but empty plans

Ending up only to be pretty hollow
Ideas only stay for portion of a second
Echoing through the empty walls. and then comes nothing
Diffusing into the air, to become a forgotten particle
and nothing comes to follow


To set the ominous breeze,
Over the most vibrant sea, that suddenly lost color
and the skies are now gone and dull
They paint the picture to not excite, but simply appease


To be trapped inside this now and empty void
With nothing but everything destroyed
To say that we are fine, and simply avoid
Now we sail, swift onto the large sea of contradictions
Too lost within, that we forget our own convictions
Letting loose the anchor of anxiety, and thus become the restrictions

 

But this is not the end,
A man aboard throws over his only friend
And a storm rolls in, and then our destination is not known
As realization becomes the new sun, and hearts are turned to stone
A daughter now deserted by her parents is overwhelmed in strife
She whimpers, but can not help wonder what makes up this sickly life
A world where people phase in, and phase out
and thoughts become ideas, and ideas become a shout
and how long does a day go on to stay out and last,
Before awesome expectations become invisible, straight into the past?

 

Will the ship find it's way to land, or sink in despair?
Great ideas no match for the roaring waves of Negativity and ignorance?
Those striving so long for a real sun, to only be in vain, deprived?
And those hopelessly waiting for relief, to be cruelly concealed, unaware?

 

The masterpiece of a book now weathered to nothing but scribbles
A great idea now hidden and destroyed by life's cruel riddles
Will the hands be strong at ease to create another inspiration?

Or will it fail to swim over the simplest waves and forget it's own foundation?






Her Perspective

I found a girl, and saw her perspective
Silent, yet surprisingly reflective
They claimed she was away, entirely defective

But I knew otherwise just from the look in her eyes
I saw through the silent, and closed off disguise


And from there, I saw the immediate connection
Completely dissected, but still searches for true affection

 

Her warm, yet crooked emotion
A calmed, yet broken devotion

 

Silent, but struggling for her sound
and yet, still not a face found

 

Her skin torn, gone and rotten.
Her mouth stolen, words lost, ignored and forgotten.

 

She was exposed to all of the morbid things
Corrupted lies, and uneven broken wings

 

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew

 

And she left sudden, without a word,
Her existence she seen was too blurred

 

Before I could realize, she was gone and done
Did you ever wonder what life can become?

 

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew..

Wishing Upon a Polymer

Sometimes I sit alone, among the fire,

Like a Cartesian lover, holding desire.

I wonder what is love at all,

Be it lust or, like a blinded fool,

Is it nothing? Is it like air,

Breathed through despair?

Or something solemn, unkind,

Unkindered.


You fly, drowned in the Icarian Sea,

Giddy with joy, soaring curiously.

Oh Daedalus, help me to fly,

Not too close, from the sun in the sky.

Lay me among natures beauty,

In those moments I sit and think of you.

Stay Forgotten

The tap tap tapping of his feet grow louder on the hard linoleum floor as his heart beats faster. Pounding in his chest, drowning out the sound in his ears and bringing his eyes to tears. He is lost. How did he get where he is? He has no idea what force brought him to this place. But wait he knows where to go, the next turn is right... no no no left. Breaking left he flies down the corridor. Pictures on the walls, bodies without faces, places he’s been before. Bursting through the double doors at the end of the hallway he enters an open plaza, and there she is.

 

This is it, this is what he was brought here for. A second chance, forcing his hand to finally make the move on… on… what was her name? What is my name? That hardly matters now, but here she is placed upon a silver platter for him to take as his liking. A noise from behind. He turns and out from whence he came, comes a familiar and distasteful face.

 

“I see you’ve found what you have been looking for,” says the vile looking man.

“Who are you?”

“I am your antagonist, I am the conflict that chooses where you step, I am your worst fear. I am your failure.”

“What madness are you speaking?”

“Take a look for yourself.”

 

Turning he notices his lost love, slipping from his grasp again. Down an alley through a busy street she turns without a glance back. Without a further look at this new profound man he is at a sprint again. Faster even than when he feared for his own life. She was more important than his life. What would be left to piece together if he let her walk out of his life again?

 

SLAM! Right in front of him a taxi from the street hits a light pole inches from his own body. Stopping momentarily he glances in at the driver, only to see the smiling face of his so called “antagonist.”

 

“Time is running out,” he says.

“Then I have no time to waste on the likes of you!”

 

Faster and faster he crosses the street and finally makes it to the alleyway that was his destination. He slows to a quick-walk, because it is extremely dark in the alley, even though it was mid-day behind him. Reaching about a third of the way through the alley he notices a curled figure on the floor… no two.

 

“This is your fault…” the man says grimly.

 

Tossing him aside, he takes a step toward her heaving, sobbing figure.

 

“Why must you cry my love? I’ve come to ask for a second… nay a first chance, that I never put forth before.”

She continues weeping for a reason unknown to him.

“Why do you weep at such a time to rejoice?! Speak to me! I’ve done my best, tried my hardest, I deserve at least a word!”

 

She slowly rights herself into a sitting position, looks up to him, and says, “Goodbye.”

 

Suddenly he is in his room in his apartment. He recalls his dream, the faces he saw, remembers who they are, remembers what they mean to him, and remembers his own identity. He lies back down, wishing he could forget.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this a few years ago, my friends back then liked it so I hope you like it too. Also I didn't have a title for it until I reread it five minutes ago.

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Leaving

Please just don’t leave me alone

In the dark, with my dreams

Alone, forgotten, lost

Dying with a broken smile on the mask

That covers my face

With a lying mirror

Showing a picture that isn’t me

That isn’t how I feel

Laugh to yourself

All the while thinking that I’m fine

 

While I die inside

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Shadow

Sometimes do you feel like a shadow?

You're always there but no-one knows

So many times you've gotten trampled on before

And before anyone notices, you're always gone

 

This is what I feel like

Not loved, forgotten and disliked

These things seem to get in the way

But they always say "push through the day"

 

Sometimes I can, sometimes I can't

I feel so sad and yet so mad

I am really not a shadow anymore

I am just a girl who is unsure

 

I'm lost in a life that I am living

Just hoping and wishing I could change the beginning. 

 

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