Posts Tagged ‘ Future ’

Petulance – Poem

Many others are allowed to succeed, yet not me,
I am deemed unworthy for the joy of new times,
Revelling in their moments, boasting with earnt glee,
All around here new blood always surrounds me,
Crying in sorrow when others end their bumpy path,
Lacking far more than I, yet no luck for me,
Enough of this unfairness and pain. End it now, please!

Evil people need their punishing, what have I done?
Leaving a part of me behind, losing it over and again,
Chances are changing, percentages slowly dropping,
Always the same feelings of wanting, failing,
Reeling as my heart breaks yet again, blood dripping,
Inside depression fills me as I simply watch,
Money seems so important, but does not buy me this.
(c) 2011


And Nothing – Poem

Through the mysterious red door in my lilac wall,
I peered through the small keyhole,
And gasped!
I’d snuck a tiny peak, just a small glimpse,
Of the future, of the fateful ending ahead,
And smiled!
It was then thatI knew the steps my feet would take,
To deliver me to the smiles and light I saw,
And desired!
This is what I saw:
Laughter, dancing, singing,
Family, friends, all generations,
Together again, cuddles, love.
And a life so huge that nothing compared,
Nothing missing.
The door’s gone, leaving only the cold lilac wall,
There’s no red door, no door at all, no window,
Nothing to free me.
That future I glimpsed is fading, falling further away,
Hearts are growing colder, stony defences to refuse or destroy,
Nothing feels.
The barren natural environment is dropping,
Freezing in mid-laugh, mid-song, all family and friends,
Turning to ice…
… And smashing into tiny red dotted cubes.
My room’s narrowing, claustrophobic cries caught,
Into my paralysed throat,
The small tiny keyhole of light built into the lilac,
Brickwork is far too far away now,
Soon I’ll be in the dark, my future flushed,
Down the drain,
And nothing but my bones,
Will remain.

© 23rd December 2011

Ending 2011 – Poem

Blonde or brown?
Tanned or fair skinned?
Covered in freckles or barely one?
Laidback and easy, silent to boot?
Or moody and bipolar, never ever mute?
Hyper and bubbly, climbing the walls,
Or sensible and older, assessing the falls?
Slightly self-centred and always in control,
Or deflecting with a humour that can only be droll?
Book smarts or common sense?
Chubby or slim?
What could it be: Her or Him?
Would it be as simple as one of the other,
Or a unique, fresh blending creating another?

© December 2011

As we end 2014, something I wrote three years ago when the dream of ever having a child seemed so far away. Who knew that 9 months after this was written, I would be taking a pregnancy test?

Who knew that three years after this was written I would be spending my Christmas and New Year with my toddler and a baby on the way?! I never thought I’d ever find out what our child would be like I describe in this poem. I truly never thought I’d get the chance to do it twice!

A World of Hay – Poem

Is this how it ends?
Is this the truth,
That the prophecy held?
As the rope weakens,
Fraying from its core,
Until it snaps.
The final straw.
The camel’s hump.
The future realised.
The hopes dashed,
And the dreams gone.
It’s time to awaken,
To accept the fate.
It’s time.
The trees are fruiting,
Shedding their dead weight.
The dead, worthless weight.
It’s time.
The final cord snaps,
Breaking the rope in two.
Leaving an unequal two.
It’s time.
The car’s ready now,
Waiting for evolution.
Time’s up.
The needle’s lost.
This world is just hay.
 © Persephone Muse 25th January 2012.

I don’t often post a poem direct to here, but then I also don’t have days like this. Nor do I advertise my depressive funk on social sites, but today’s apparently not for the normal!