I have never felt fear for myself
but for those whom I love
if something terrible happens
the kind of things that you don't speak of.
I have felt scared on my own
countless times, it's just me
and my own life
the reasoning and emotion
no where near as deep
When stuck in the dark
the heart tightens
a fist around the veins
but without them here
nothing would be the same
and that thought
nearly makes me insane.
I know words can't really describe the horror of what happened ten years ago -this is just my small attempt to. I thought rather than describe the event, I'd go down a more personal route, though again it's impossible to know what it was like for the people involved. Of course, this poem is dedicated to all those who lost their lives in the attacks of 9/11. Rest in Peace.
There's burning
crying
screaming
everything has lost
all of it's meaning
I am surrounded
by panic
by smoke
I can't feel my lungs
I begin to choke.
I can't take this
I can't take this any more
despite my knowledge
of the heaven high floor
I decide to leap
desperately wishing
my life was mine to keep.
My heart picks an image
so I can keep a steady head
when I go
I shall not be thinking
of this, of this hell
but I shall be loving them
and I shall be with them instead.
The peach to the prune
the magnificent to the ruin
the boy to the man
and the girl to the gran.
We see the youth gain age
which can turn to rage
maybe not quite wisdom
I wonder, what will I become?
From the petals of innocence
with slow shuffling reluctance
we gain more life, grow old
and what comes exactly after that?
Well,
it's a secret none of us have been told.
It's in the pavings of the street
it's in every single soul of whom we meet
it crawls along the hospital walls
it stretches great heights and goes great falls.
It's in the boom of a thunder clap
it's in the darkness, a looming gap
It's in a person's deadly gaze
it's in the calender, counting down days.
It's on every mile, of every road
it's in the water, far down below
it's in the earth itself, forever there
it is always crouching, always prepared.
Bloody hell, I managed to do this for a month. It's much more difficult than I thought it would be in all honesty. I'm not sure if I've achieved what I wanted yet . . . the feeling of being creative to the point of inspiring others. Actually, I don't think I'll ever reach that point. Part of me feels that I shouldn't continue with this, I don't think it's going anywhere. But another part is insisting I stick it out. For now I'll agree with that part.
I don't wish to use the phrase 'bad day' but mine has not been a good one. So apologies in advance for the next poem, it will sound whiney. In fact, you don't have to read it. To be honest, at this moment in time, I don't even want to write it >.<
The Road of Worry
Crossing a road
being run over
Entering a dark room
being shot
or taken.
Dying
Not being missed
Why would anyone miss me?
Always second best
never put above the rest
shoved aside
Am I even liked?
Alone.
Always alone.
Fear of death
taints life.
With family
thoughts of departure
sorting out belongings
when they're gone.
As if packing for
a train journey
they're on
and you're not.
With friends
memories of laughs
will fade in to
the distance shadows
of the corners of the mind
images of face
will blur.
Fear of death
taints life.
But,
in moments of joy
love of life
out shines death.
