When I was small problems seemed so trivial, because they were
Just that.
They ended as abruptly as they began.
Even hardships : Disease, death, moving, longing,
Each were overcome with time and trial.
But scorn. Scorn and pity. Two emotions I shall never understand, and never be able to escape.
They follow me, stalking like hounds and waiting like hungry wolves. They circle teasingly close, begging for a morsel of flesh.
Sometimes I wonder if I am wrong to run and hide from them, rather than face them head on.
Through running, I live another day in fear and paranoia.
Through running, I protect the last shards of my broken soul and clutch them greedily to my chest.
Through running, I save what I can save and leave the rest of me to be devoured.
If I were to fight, I would lose.

Rage is like a fire
A thousand shards of glass
And though it might expire
It will really never pass

Though I try to kill the fire
With a million tons of ice
The flames only will burn higher
And nothing will suffice

Until rage, it has consumed me
And the flames, they will burn on
Til I am gone completely
And have faded with the dawn

Never Try To Write a Poem While Listening to Music:

You may be smart, you may have guile
But after only a short while
The phrases cease their lines to rhyme
The music keeps its special time
Your words end up a jumbled mess
You reach the middle, forget the rest
So listen children, and take care
Multitasking poets—beware!

The words in your head,
The face in your eyes
The tones that you hear:
Your mind’s telling lies -

You want the attention,
You’re too scared to say;
Hiding ‘hind your fell mask -
Pushing us all away.

If I said I was sorry
For what I said the other day,
I don’t suppose the words
Would simply melt away?

 
I make mistakes—I’m mortal
Frail as I could be—
Confused, broken, insignificant :
The melancholy me.

 
I don’t know how to love,
That much, at least, is true,
But teach me how to love…
And I promise to love you.

When I was small and fancy free
I fancied no one’d bother me
The world was new and fresh, you see
Too nice to be poisoned by men.

 
For all I tried and failed to say
That naïveté slipped betimes away
And left my world empty and grey
And longing for final ends.

 
For every tear I never shed
For ev’ry lover never wed
For my empty heart now cold and dead
I cannot see again.

Carne, carnal, carnival.
Carnivore, watch him fall.
The sweetest meats on which he sups,
The way he drinks that red blood up,
The mask he wears to fool the town—
Carnival turned upside down.

(( Nothing to say that the words didn’t already. ))

For a friend on a snowy day during a tough year at school. I regret not showing it to her then, but I was embarrassed. Maybe she will see it this year, and it will help in the here and now. Ah, well, better late than never?

***

I can see the light, sparkling

Through snowflakes and bare trees, reflecting

Into a cold, barren classroom.

Every head turns to look

The teacher laughs - and students

Can only frown.

Another day, another test, but we forget :

The papers are like the

Snow.

It seems  there are thousands

Each a different assignment.

Cold, calculating -

And annoying.

But really,

It will soon be over, and done.
Snow melts,

Papers burn,
And life moves on.