Categories
Bits and Pieces

Why

Why does it hurt so much 
when I see their posts?
Why does it hurt so much
when I miss every shot?
Why does it hurt so much
when I see the letter B?
Why does it hurt so much 
when I think about all the things I could be?
All the things I’m supposed to be?

Why do I stress about a future so distant?
Why do I cry about problems so small?
Why do I fear change so insignificant?

Why?
Why am I like this?
Why do I care?
I shouldn’t care…

Should I?

Maybe I’m right.
Maybe everyone else should be asking,
“Why not?”

…maybe.

Categories
Bits and Pieces Poems

Thoughts of a Wayward Introvert

You want to be my lifeguard
But I can only breathe underwater
So I keep myself alive
By drowning in my sorrows

You say I look tired
But I’m just lost in thought
You say I look depressed
But like I said before I’m not

You act like I’m strange
Because I do things my own way
But I’m just not as cool as you
And I think that’s okay

You tell me I’m so quiet
And yes sometimes it’s true
But I’m really only quiet
When I have to talk to you

Categories
Poems

Covers

I swear to you,

There’s a monster 

Under my bed.

But if you

Refuse to check,

I’ll pull up the covers instead.

I’ll cover up my head

But soon I will be dead

‘Cause there is a monster 

Under my bed.

Pull up the covers,

Ignore the wh- wh- wh- whispers,

Ignore the drip drip drip of blood.

I pull up the covers,

I cover my head,

And hope in the morning

You don’t find me dead.

Categories
Bits and Pieces

The Ocean

I belong near the ocean.
My heart yearns for the sound of waves crashing.
My smile appears when I see those beautiful blues.
I belong near the ocean.
And although I believe in science
In facts
And in cold, hard truth
I think in another life
I may have been a mermaid.

Categories
Poems

empty

A sky touched by a painter’s hand. 
Glowing rays flood warm faces. 
The breeze sings and whispers. 
A group of girls sit
Listening
But not listening
To their coach.
He speaks a language
That is foreign
And strange
To the girls picking grass
And watching the sunset
Kiss the horizon. 
There is one girl
Who sits still,
Silent,
And listens
To the foreign language
And tries to understand. 
But all she understands
Is that the day is beautiful
But her face is stone. 
The day is beautiful
But her eyes are cold. 
The day is beautiful
But her soul feels empty. 

Categories
Resist

The Quiet

The quiet before the storm,
The sunshine before the rain,
The peace before the war.

The quiet appears in different forms. 
It may be the murmurs from pew to pew in a church,
Or the vibrations of the heavy bass at a concert,
Or the frantic scribbling of pencils in a classroom. 

The quiet should not be broken. 
It should not be ripped away
From the people who need it most.
Yet it is. 
The quiet is shattered
And the peace is broken. 

Churches are peace.
Schools are peace.
Concerts are peace. 
Mosques are peace. 

Churches should be peace. 
Schools should be peace. 
Concerts should be peace. 
Mosques should be peace. 

The world should be peace. 

Maybe not everywhere,
Maybe not all the time,
But in certain places
We should be able to find peace. 
We should be able to find the quiet. 

The quiet shouldn’t always be disturbed
By hatred,
By xenophobia,
By bigotry,
By racism,
By white supremacy,
Or by gunfire. 

I miss the quiet. 
I miss the quiet before the gunfire. 

(My thoughts are with you New Zealand.)

Categories
Poems

Decisions

Decisions plague me.
They creep after me,
Laughing from the shadows,
Smiling in the dark.
They haunt my dreams
And they fill my waking hours.

I can’t choose.
I don’t want to choose.
I’m tired of choosing.
No good options,
No bad options.
Nothing I do
Will ever be right…
Or wrong.

So I’ve done it;
I’ve finally chosen.
I’ve chosen to stop choosing
And instead
To buy a magic 8 ball.

Categories
Poems

The Silent Killer

It is a silent killer
It creeps through the night,
Hunting for prey,
Searching for weakness.

It settles in,
It finds a home.
First in hearts,
Then households,
Then cities,
Then countries.

It is the opponent
We never know we have.
It is the murderer
We never suspect.
It is the plague
That is forgotten
From the history books.

It is slow-moving,
Deadly,
Silent,
Suffocating,
Horrifying,
Catastrophic.

It is our worst fear
And our biggest flaw.

Apathy.

Categories
Poems

Her Story

Tear-stained face
Limbs torn apart
Cold, dead eyes
And a shattered heart

Blinded by rage
Knuckles bright red
A scream escapes her throat
And her heart is dead

Wind hits her cheeks
Her lungs fill with air
Her eyes are now dry
She’s getting there

A smile plays at her lips
Her heart begins to swell
It has been glued back together
All is well

Categories
Poems

My Grandpa

He is driven and ambitious
There’s a fire in his eyes
He never stops his learning
He’s intelligent and wise

His kindness is radiant
It follows where he goes
He’s always willing to teach
And share the things he knows

His serious brain is matched
Only by his sparkling wit
Be wary of what he says
Don’t always believe it 🙂

I don’t think I could ask for
A better teacher or friend
So happy birthday, Grandpa,
And with that I say

THE END.