Measure
A poem based on the above image:
With every inch she rose,
she carried herself straighter;
and fearful of that confidence,
her opponents chose to hate her.
(original source for me was this tumblr post)
Page 66 of 92
Love bites
The color of love:
not a blushing crimson but
a wine-colored bruise.
Weary
Sing for me once more
upon the broken shore
of better times and happy days
when life was fun and games and play
before life’s cruel and endless chores.
Nightfall 2
The boisterous sun
fades in the evening twilight
to a perfect black.
Night parade
The week is over
let’s get this party started
and paint the town red.
Actor
I learned this life by rote
memorized each and every note
of its quiet, unspoken song
in hopes I might one day belong.
In vain
Fear of tomorrow
poisons the present and wastes
the blood of the past.
Parched
Despair
is daily trips
to a dry, empty well
hoping in vain that you will find
water.
Nightfall
Whispers of twilight
clutch the horizon before
they finally yield.
Parting the veil
Season of my heart,
you whose sky is grey and cold:
we shall find the sun.
A (wise) man of two faces 