Tag: her

Poem

Just How It Was
By MwsR

It was hard, trying to be a kid. Much harder than anything else could imagine.

Almost as hard as back in the day, when people drove a horse and a wagon.

All she wanted to do was play. No one even noticed or glanced her way, or so she thought.

The day was always long and dragged on. Her heart became a stone that others walked on.

Neither naive nor stupid, she was in between.
That is because her life was not as it seemed.

Becoming a little lady, she still longed to be a child, young and pretentious.
Nothing to keep her attention, except her imagination and dreams, which made her seem more and suspicious.

Guilty almost just because she breathed.
No one even cared about her enough to believe.

Something wasn’t right with her, something a miss.
Someone in her house was guilty of this.

Alone yet she lived as one of four behind that yellow front door.
So much went on there, so much more.

It was hard, hard to live there.
So hard to smile, so much to bear.

Much more than anyone imagined.
That’s just how it was.

Goodbye By MwsR

Her views of the world are somewhat abnormal,

Like rain that fills the grave, of someone who lies cold.

Neither consequence or percept will determine her next move.

The path is determined by things long ago and old.

Her values are placed in the things and people who continually are there.

Like texts books in an abandoned high school, they can be still relevant.

Often reading the same chapter of her life each and every time, she searches for meaning

Never, is there a need for the final chapter, just the subsequent ones post haste.

Her laughter will definitely hide her million insecurities,

It is contagious and appears to be the real deal,

Often it will hide her heart, and the way she more than not, feels.

Wise to some degree, she has learnt who to share her dreams with.

With the slightest hesitations and reserve, she’ll share once more.

Her pain serves as a crown for her, each stone in it, is a lesson she must learn

Each adorning detail, is from all the tedious effort she gives, in just living.

With doubts and fears, she will live each day

Never fully resting, never really trusting, but always clinging to the good in others

The good that will justify her giving her trust, if it really is trust.

Her appearance can hide a multitude of worry.

You would not guess so much, just by looking at her.

It would appear that things are fine and dandy

Rich and blessed,

Like even her own heart takes a rest.

Her goodbye’s are never really goodbye’s

She will speak the words, but hold them in her mind.

That one little hope or that thing that she holds onto, will never tire

It will never let go.

Always, it will be there, in the creases of her thoughts,

On the pages that she writes,

In the songs that she sings.

Quote