PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

An empty wall,

a clean slate,

fresh as a new born soul,

and then before u know it

shades of grey creep in from all the corners,

and depending on if u fight it depends how deep they go,

and there is the purples of laughter,

and reds of love,

and they are brighter in our young age before the greys,

and the blacks of disatisfaction dull them

ever so slightly at first,

and then more as we get older,

and if we don't find away to add more blues,

and reds,

the greys and blacks will eat away at the core of the picture,

and line itselves with the green of envy,

and the blues of sadness until all let is left

is the rainbow of your soul

under the thunderstorm that is life.



there is a whisper on the wind but

I do not here what name it calls,

It is not my name,

but it is sweet like a honeysuckle from the vine.

So I look around for a body to the voice and

nothing is to be found

but the sky and the ground and

what nature intended to be in between.

So I walk from here to there

not knowing what's in a name or

what it could me to a heart that has longed and

is searching for something or someone to come to its side,

and fill it with the warmth that it needs to survive.

Still I continue.

Step by Step until i get to the waters edge,

and I'm not sure if i can turn back,

but how much further ahead can I go

before i lose the will power to go on

and i drown within no site of land,

squashed between sea and sky.

Never knowing if this was my fate,

my destiny,

my karma,

or was it meant to be another way.



Is this what it's come to? Day after day, just sitting here wasting away. When you going to do something, when you gone be some one?

I am some one I am me?

Well is that good enough?

To who's standards?

Can u live with youself?

Do you mean can u live with me?

Well society has its codes and standards.

Well I'll never be society's majority, I'm just me.

Are you happy with that?

I've asked myself that from time to time.

I know and now I'm asking back.

Well sometimes in the dark of midnight thirty I fell alone

but u are alone

Am I?

I feel alone with in myself

I stranger with in my own soul, nit knowing the direction to take.

Whats wrong with one foot in fornt of the other.

Nothing as long as I don't trip myself on my own shoelaces of regret.

What's to regret, the past can not be changed.

and it is what has made me so i wouldn't change anyhting.



Cx Patterson