PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When does morning start?

When a creature awakes,

Or when the sun rises?

Yea, the morning is

When a creature awakes

To find it starting anew

In the world dominated

By mortal souls.

The human wakes up

First by opening its eyes,

Then stretching its muscles

And sitting up in a position

To retreat from the bed

That held it prisoner 

During the long, dark night.

Out of bed it goes

Attending its normal

Robotic morning routine

Whilst thinking of the future,

Of what the day holds,

And how the day will go.

Either gleefully or woefully

Does the human think of this

For not all mornings 

Are filled with happiness and glee.

Fearful not is the human

Who takes things as they go

Wave by wave.

Wave by wave harassing it,

Wave by wave attacking it,

Wave by wave saddening it,

Wave by wave entertaining it,

Wave by wave knocking it down.

Each wave the human does take

Accepting each as a challenge,

As an opponent, an obstacle,

And one that must be rid of.

Defeat is not in its dictionary,

For there is no defeat

If one can rise again,

And face the same challenge

To only be victorious.

The human does not give up,

It does not ponder on the past,

But it rises from its ashes - 

Waking up to start anew

In a world dominated

By mortal souls.

Saw you from afar

Knew you're about to cry

You're all I desire

You got me asking why

Why am I not the reason for your tears?

What should I do to make you see?

Am I not the one who can make you cheer?

How can I make you see these things?

Here you are again 

In the middle of the night

Here I am again 

Giving you a shed of light

Why are you very blind?

Can't you read between the lines?

Why don't you look and find?

Can't you see my heart's desire?

If it was me you're with,

You will not be crying

It will not be tragic

We will end up smiling

I know your favorite song

It has been you all along

Wake up and look inside my soul

See through my heart and you will know

its eating away
from my inside n out
makin good memories bad
turnin love into obsetion
broken inside n out
feeding on the heart n soul
that thought had a chance
days are longer
nights are colder
to far gone
fallin into a early grave
hopin for the day it dies
hopin for the day im set free
Pulling me in
as i gasp for my last breath
depression and hate
drag me under
The end is near
lights fading
it won..

Love
What is love?
"Love is a many splendored thing"
Love is something to hold above all else
But is love good?
I believe that it may be. Maybe not today
Maybe not tomorrow, but love will come and love will go.
Love is also a dagger.
A dagger that nothing can resist.
A dagger that hath pierced many an armor, and once withdrawn leaves one to die.
Love is a dangerous thing, which has eluded me by a hair’s distance.
I long for this love, and yet I know not to follow it.
for if I do… only hurt can ensue