Welcome to Piano Song. This is where I'll be puting some of my poetry. Be sure to check in now and then, to read new ones. I hope you like the poems, I put a lot of my life into them, and a lot of my feelings too. Some of them are from a book I'm writing called Poem. (I ran out of space for all of them, so go to http://www.siteskins.net/pianosong2 for more!)
Say Not One Word
Say not one word, but say it all. Whether wrong or right, rise or fall, say not one word. None at all.
They Don't Know Me
They think they know me, but they don't know squat. They might know who I like, who I dont like, what I like to do, but they don't know me. They don't know that I want to be an actress, or that I won trophies for winning an obsacle course in both 3rd and 4th grade. They don't know that I work my butt off to be clean and free and the best I can be. How do I know? Because they don't know me.
Nothing Girl
She's alone again, and it's up she goes, up she goes, up she goes. And nobody hears her, and nobody sees her, and nobody cares she's alone.
Fate Has No Time
I watch these tiny puzzles hover down to thier deaths, and I wonder, is this how it is for everything, slowly waiting, watching, drifting for themselves to be melted away? No, melting is the process of the brain. It is pure to begin with, and suddenly it is filled with lies, judgements, nothing. Some would ask, "How could anything be filled with nothing?" A reply, "Watch the snow fall. It hasn't time, and to live takes time. And to love, and to grow, and to see takes time.The snow has no time. There must be a reason we are people, and not snow. Therefore, let time be cradled in our arms, and let it not slip away." Someone has given us a clock to live on, but how long it has to tick relies on us.
Nowhere Is My Insecurity
On the days that I feel so insecure, the days I am quiet and my eyes burn, I run. Nowhere is the only hiding place I feel safe. My body dies nowhere, and no one notices my corpse. I rot away like the faces nowhere has separated from voices. Nowhere, voices stay, and I am pulled back nowhere to listen. And it kills me slowly but I have the choice and I choose to hear, nowhere.
Simple Art
I sit in an embrace of cold, where my eyes cannot reach what they wish to see, and my heart cannot open itself to what it loves. I lie in a cage, where nothing comes to me, and I am unable to make my way to what it is that I truly want. I mask myself with a content plaster, which hides beneath a lonely acrylic. My mind is an oil painting, waiting forever to be finished. Sadly, no one offers to help finish this artwork, and everyone is too blind to see the abstact. How I would love to be like them, those who aren't pushed to be art. Maybe then I could laugh and mean it. Oh, how I long to smile inside as well, but I can't. And why should I? In my case, deserving something doesn't matter, but living up to what I have already acomplished does. Even then I would have never been anything inside. Now I am simply an empty barrier, though at least one person should be able to find something in me. The problem is waiting to see who that someone is. Until then, I will need to be alert, and open minded, as always. Anxious as I am to be freed from the canvas my lifes hides in, I must stay still.
Nothing Perfect (from "Poem")
They like to joke, and laugh, not knowing that it could hurt. Well, it does hurt, though I seem strong. I am nothing perfect, I know, but at least I am who I am. Can they say the same? What joy could possibly come from killing peoples' spirits? I wouldn't know, but I'm sure joy will soon be replaced.
Poem To A Friend
I will always love you,
no matter how much we fight.
Our friendship's stronger than the
force that wants to pull us down.
And though right now you think I don't care,
I do with all my heart.
What would I do, now,
if I were to lose you,
and have no chance to say I'm sorry?
I'd waste every breath
trying to speak to your soul,
though maybe your soul
would like to turn away.
I hope it would never turn, though,
because that would mean all we ever
did together was time with no purpose.
But you are my purpose to live.
you are my purpose to breathe,
and cry,
and wish.
All I wish today is that
you'd answer my question:
Are you willing to stay with me forever,
And forgive and say you're sorry
when it's needed?
Will you forever love me because
I don't lie about who I am,
as I will you?
Do you promise to listen,
when I can't get words out
because I'm crying too much?
Because I do.
And I cry forever,
thinking that we can't be forever,
though I know we will,
through and through.
I just pray to God every night
that you do, too.
Friends
We may know whom we will never love, and that's okay. We shouldn't love all those we know, nor should we trust all those we know. For every fifty people we know, we will only ever love and care for one deeply. And for every ten people we love, we can only trust two. It will never matter if we trust and love a thousand people or one person, as long as there's someone.
Eatin' Spinache
A great character once said, "I am who I am, and that's all who I am." It would be a beautiful thing if all in the world could say that about themselves, but, sad as it is, they can't. Few can. I can, and I'm proud.
Strong
Everyone has their definition for strong. It can be fighting, it can be holding back. Strong is believing what you know, and seeing what you believe. It's every day, and it's never reached; underestimated and missunderstood. Strong brings pain and it brings joy and pride. Strong is bravery, and courage. It will come both physically and mentally. And it never gives up on us.
Too Bad (from "Poem")
I haven’t got any
shoulders to lean against, nor do I care. Too bad, because it used
to be nice. It’s something I miss during the night, but in the day I
remember why I shouldn’t. That shoulder can stand still, though
it wants to move away, which it eventually does. When it does, I
feel betrayed. But I’m used to it by now, because nothing can get
into my heart anymore. Too bad. It used to be nice.
Who I Am
I cry. I hurt. Okay, that's what the world would like to know, that I'm not as strong as I appear to be. I break down every day, with the weight that is put upon my shoulders and I wonder if I can pull through.
Dead
Sometimes I like to think about death. Only because I believe everyone's happier there. We don't even begin to imagine what happy is, because we're too caught up in what pain should be. If I were dead today, today would be a happy day for me.
Love
I don't know what love is. I can't give it back to people, because if I do, I'm afraid that losing it will hurt worse than just sticking with pain.
Problem Better Left Than Solved (Brent's poem, not mine)
her eyes peirce my soul,
grabbed and ripped my heart.
without her i knew i was gone,
gone to a place where i cannot be free,
where i would be sentenced to life of teathered slavery,
and without her there is no meaning;
no breath to fill my lungs,
only the cold festering darkness that is me,
that is me to say me without her,
the only pain that might overshadow the one that strikes me now
is the pain of having her.
Possibilities
Every day, I hesitate to breathe, afraid to make a last breath and die on the wilting grass. And I hold my arms tight to my sides, afraid to touch anything wrong, paranoid to be wrong. I'd like to fly, to dissapear into the sky, and live with the thin air so that I don't worry about breathing, but falling.
Memory (From "Poem")
If my dreams are the only places a beautiful memory
will live, let me sleep. Reality isn’t as lovely as dreams, so forget
it, I refuse to wake. A face will never fade when my mind makes
it reappear night after night. Until I wake, forgive me for
remembering, because today that’s all I can do. And when I
wake, know, because I will escape my dreams and come to
you.
To Know Who Loves You
Capture those who you know will not escape, for catching the ones who will only brings pain. When innocence is seen, trust will be the one to gain. An uncertainty will engulf what is known as your ability to love and believe, and it's pure honesty that you will wish to recieve. Some come with masks, and many come naked, thier true selves sometimes mistaken. Let your eyes be blind in the beginning, for then besides your mind, your heart will be winning.
Roses Are Red
Roses are red, so are my eyes,
My heart is broken,
and it still cries.
Until I move on, the roses will wilt.
And I will show my shame,
my guilt.
Violets are blue, so is the water.
My eyes are cooling now,
and I'm the same innocent daughter.
Carnations are strong, so is the earth.
If I had known I'd hurt
so bad, the thought to fall in love have never given birth.
Christmas Wish
This Christmas all I want
is for those of who don't,
to understand me.
That I am afraid not to lie,
because of the impurest discrimination
that will follow the truth.
And with the discrimination,
blindness from the misery it causes,
and the embarrassment,
and the fear of being myself in front of you.
A Third Child's Insecurities
It is impossible for me to say
what i know and what i see.
I'm like an egg to you because
the other two have broken.
So from their shells I have decided
just to cover and hope not to break
or fall or boil.
And even now I still stay inside my
shell, yet I can already feel
my outside coating
turn rotton and yellow and cracking.
But if I crack,
what will that mean?
there are two main answers:
that I will finally be understood,
or that I will be shamed and continue
to be treated like an egg even though the
protective shell has broken,
and i have spread out to die.
Laugh At Me
You laugh at me
because I'm different
than you.
I laugh at you
because you have to be
the same as the others.
You laugh at me
when I be myself.
I laugh at you when
you fake yourself.
Dont laugh at me
so you can look good for them.
I laugh at you
because I know theyre
not good for you.
Losers
Cheerleaders are perky and sleep too much,
and Preps care only about themselves.
Jocks worry about the big game on Friday.
And then we are called Losers...
like it's a sin to be ourselves.
Just because we dont need to match our clothes,
or look perfect.
Because we dont care if someone looks different,
because we are different.
We're true to ourselves and we dont hide it.
Can the Cheerleaders and Preps and Jocks say the same?
Oh wait, I forgot. They dont care.
We're Losers, remember?
