Rose & Thorn Poetry

I am a list person. I love making lists, so I made a short list of what I feel are some of the worst and most wonderful things about life. The Things The difficult things A betrayed heart A futile hope Burned dreams Forever stuck in 2nd place Unable to express the right words Buried under shame The scapegoat of someone’s anger Unrequited love The beautiful things A heart that does not give up Restored relationships Experiencing grace A stranger’s compassion Complete understanding A finished task A sincerely humble apology Authenticity established in trust

 Sometimes in life the things we never want to happen, actually happen. The thoughts and emotions during that time are crazy. Even after it's all over, it's not completely over because it will always be apart of your life. But when you get through the thing you never wanted to face, you are a different person, and that is not always a bad thing. It takes great strength to face fears. Fears It stands in front of you looming, The monster in your mind. The dark fear, The one you run from, the one you hide from. The nightmare you can never face. It taunts and jeers and foretells doom. A cringing creak that creeps on through, Belligerent intent dominates night’s noon, Causing one’s sleep to end so soon. The worry, the dread, the unseen end,  The cost, the pain, the disloyal friend. Heavy weights that crush the throat, Tall jagged cliffs that daunt you the most, Impossible climb in nonexistent time, That dark and dismal race, a part in which you must partake,...

The warmth of concrete on a golden summer eve, And the chill of concrete on a grey winter’s morn, The way it feels changes with the seasons. Whether cold or warm, joyful or forlorn, One is not perfect nor better than another. It’s simply a matter of difference; Favored seasons exist as a concern of preference. Warm days of sunshine and pensive days of rain, Bright days of happiness, dark days of pain, An opposite for everything, within a never ending range. The reason for seasons and the reason for change? There is something good within all life’s alterations And experience to be gained in every frustration, Strength to be built from every temptation. Unearth the treasured moments with diligent fixation, And enjoy their splendor to full duration, But don’t love a season so greatly, That you aren’t willing to part sedately, To kindly say adieu, And welcome the next debut.

I want to take a match to my past I want it to burn out of existence But alas the past cannot disappear Nor can it be erased or changed Most of the time it cannot be forgotten. Yet tomorrow is a different story.

Because crying isn’t a bad thing. It’s natural. We get embarrassed because it shows we’re vulnerable. We feel uncomfortable because we know crying makes some people feel awkward. What do you do when you see someone crying? I never know. But I know it’s not a bad or shameful thing to cry when you are hurt. Sometimes I Choose to Cry They want to cheer me up It hurts them to see me cry How sweet for them to care How kind of them to try And comfort me. But something sad has happened I think it’s ok to cry. I want to feel sad For awhile Not forever but for now I think it’s ok to cry. I want to feel the sadness Because to move on is to ignore That something tragic happened Something that deserves to be acknowledged. I think it’s ok to cry. Sometimes I choose to cry Because I can’t And won’t pretend To be ok When everyone knows I’m not.

Those words again. They haven’t lost their sting. No matter how routinely they’re heard. Even eons after their existence is uttered The painful echo continues to ring. Even said insincerely, they carelessly swing. The whisper in stillness, the cold-hearted thief --The sword that comes at night. The sharp blade strikes at dawn when mistakes reawaken, When the fragrant peace of dreams has faded. Syllables laced with coarse hatred, wrath and dread. Murdered by words, Death has come at last in the end. Oh, the power of the little tongue. To curse or to praise. To bring death or breathe life.    The two sided coin that can heal and maim, Like sun or fire bring warmth or pain. Words are the fire that can warm the winter soul, Or the manic inferno that scorches it whole.                   Those words again. They haven’t lost their ring. No matter how scarcely they’re ...