Just a few poems I've written recently.


Quote:
Unbreakable
The days wear down my bones
And each night as I settle into sleep
My muscles scream in relief at rest.
Not even two decades have worn me down,
From work, walking, standing, straightening.
It's difficult to walk with a proud head up high,
To prove my family wrong and show them what i can do.
It's difficult to show to the world that I'm not to be ignored.
It's difficult to prove my worth to all i meet.
Underestimation, my father warned me, is inevitable:
You're a woman.
You're outspoken.
You're a writer.
Nobody will take you seriously.
Oh how I wish I'd taken that as a warning sign;
Perhaps it would be easier to fall into the roles
That were laid out for me at birth by my sexist family.
Some days I feel the burring pain of success,
And I wonder if I shouldn't just stop.
Give up on my hopes and dreams for the sake of my neck and feet.
I am far too stubborn for my family.
They want a little wife, a perfect mother.
I want a career, an education, a name for myself.
I was not cut out for the life my family wants for me,
However easy it may seem.
I was made to swim against the crowd, the current, and the chaos.
I was made to stir up hurricanes with the salad tossers they handed me,
I was made to swallow their poison and survive it by immunity.
I was made to be beaten, but I was never made to be broken.


Quote:
Missing You
"Baby you were my picket fence,
I'll miss missing you now and then."

It was stupid of me to fall in love
With a girl like you.
I should have known
All along
That we wouldn't work.
But I do not regret
A single moment.
My heart was hurt
And now it's mended.
If I really knew you
I wouldn't have thought about it
Wouldn't have chanced it
Wouldn't have let those words enter my mind.
But I did, and now you've left.
But I did, and I am behind, missing you.
I do not mourn what could have been
Because it never was.
And though I was angry beyond all doubt,
I was angry at myself,
Mourning the thought I'd conjured in my head.
So I'll move on,
I've made my peace,
And maybe one day
I'll love you again.


Quote:
A Writer
Writing is my art
Some people can take a mathematic equation
And make it into a logical theory.
I can take words and warp them.

A sentence for me is a piece of string
To bind the package of a character.
That package holds the hopes and dreams,
The sadness, the anger, the fate
And the package is held together by one sentence
Carefully chosen to express emotion.

I can whisper a word in your ear through a lonely woman
With sadness deep in her eyes.
As you feel sympathy for her, I am playing
The chess game of words versus words.

Each effect that you feel
Was made by simple words I strung together.
The keys of my writing piano clack together
Forming music that makes no sense to your ears.
But I hear the words that are being whispered.
I feel the breath of the muses on my neck, as they fight to be heard.

What I give you to read is not my own,
For the universe has bestowed it upon me
For your viewing purposes.