Archive | 5:03 PM

The Shadow Voice By Margaret Atwood

19 Aug
Advertisements

~The Nobody~

19 Aug

Poetry's Passion Blog ツ

~The Nobody~

In the dark she stands alone,

A place where she’ll never be known

Hiding from all the world,

A peaceful life she wishes not to behold.

Crying from up above,

And sometimes wishing she was loved.

Watching as her tears fall down,

Like rain and thunder, but not a sound.

As she sits above the rest,

She thinks, “Is this a test?”

A test to see her love for all,

To also see if she will fall.

Always sitting there not thinking,

Sometimes not even blinking.

Into the dark abyss she stares,

An expressionless face is what she wears.

Waiting till the day she dies,

And always hearing nothing but cries.

Never wanting to handle the truth,

That she’s a nobody throughout her youth.

And so she screams in a loud tone,

“In the end we’re all alone!”

View original post

Prompt 8: Cliché

19 Aug

Prompt 8: Cliché

The apple never falls far from the tree,” says the poor woman of her child.

Even in her youth

filling her mind with

the same rubbish most hear

others speak upon their worst enemy.

Even taking her journals

and them away

Taking the books she read

as if the meant nothing

and banning them from her-

It isn’t worth it- you’ll be just like me,”

she said fold a hot basket of clothes-

What children aren’t told is they

don’t have to be like anyone.

Not even mommy and daddy.

Read your books-

Write your journals,

One day you’ll be a great

writer and will have all the things that were

decided for me not to have,”

she should say.

I remember a book we made

back in grade school on the old colored puzzle carpet-

The one I had vomited on so many times before.

Anyways, I digress. I remember the letters and reading the stories I read-

I’ve had but one still dream and it remains.

Despite what they say,

I am my mothers child.

But I am not my mother.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

a place of ghosts ~

19 Aug

Gentlemen

19 Aug

Poesy plus Polemics

without scars
I’d be no one
worth loving
unaware of
pain’s value
in fashioning
gentlemen
imprints that
neuter aggression
and mollify ego
edified marks
of humility
badges of
healed-over
suffering
bold psychic runes
that attest
tempered character
traits cued
for empathy
first among
honest vows
passion enjoys
for a lifetime

(Inspired by a recent poem from fellow blogger Roxi St. Clair at http://roxistclair.com/)

View original post

%d bloggers like this: