Rose & Thorn Poetry

This one took a long time to finish. It started out very short, but as I thought about what keeping silent means and what it does, the poem kept growing. There is a time to be silent and a time to speak up. What happens when it is time to speak and you don’t? I’ve seen what silence and a lack of communication can do to people and to relationships and to myself. This is something I struggle with, being an introvert and all. I’m not big on chatting in general or being vulnerable and open. But I’m trying to change that, to be the best version of me I can be, even as an introvert, because I’ve seen the harm of silence. It can be more destructive than you might think. Keeping Silent Silence is golden A venerable mystique. But sometimes it’s not, Sometimes it’s weak Can people read minds, Do they know how you feel, Can they see through your eyes, Or hear through your ears? You have to tell them, You have to speak. …1... What good is a compliment if it is left unsaid What good is symp...

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 ...