Hi, just felt like sharing a couple poems.

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T

TheeJohnBoy

Guest
#1
Hi all, I just wanted to anonymously share a couple poems that I wrote about 2 decades apart.

[FONT=&quot]The first is a poem I wrote at a down point in my life which happened to be in the middle of a period where I resided among demons between 2 & 3 decades ago. The second poem is an interesting one to me. I'd been getting into the scripture and praise & prayer etc., quite heavily and at one point I was overcome with a peace and joy that amazed and thrilled me for a while sufficient enough to induce tears. Sadly, that feeling didn't last forever, and as I contemplated feeling that way, I started rhyming and had composed a poem so fast I was concerned about forgetfulness while scrambling to open notepad once I'd determined I liked it enough to write. There were only ever a couple other poems I wrote and they were to a fiance a long time ago. I only say this to highlight that I must be emotionally moved significantly to inspire me to poetry. Anyway, a day or two later I remembered the new poem and I opened it to read it with the idea of deleting it. When I read back my poem, I teared up and gave myself a chill, and in that moment I remembered the first poem I wrote so long ago that was so dark and how it contrasts the experience that inspired it. Anyway, I never titled either of these poems.
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[FONT=&quot]After nine months of pain, the woman grew weary.
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[FONT=&quot]Alas it happened, that day so dreary.
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[FONT=&quot]An infant boy, born to a face of stone,
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[FONT=&quot]Soon learned that he stands alone.
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[FONT=&quot]A smile could not be forced upon his stale face,
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[FONT=&quot]For the boy realizes self-disgrace.
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[FONT=&quot]The boy’s disregarded by society abroad.
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[FONT=&quot]Love is a myth, it’s merely a fraud.
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[FONT=&quot]The boy chases myths but knows in his head,
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[FONT=&quot]It cannot be caught, hope is dead.
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[FONT=&quot]His hope died as did belief,
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[FONT=&quot]He’s now occupied by disgust and grief.
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[FONT=&quot]Years have passed; this man’s the same;
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[FONT=&quot]A loser he is, as once he came.
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[FONT=&quot]His life is worthless as a rusty tin can,
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[FONT=&quot]Cannot be recycled, only fills land.
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[FONT=&quot]Alone he has been, as alone he will be,
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[FONT=&quot]Yet, his dreams within cry to be free.
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[FONT=&quot]The man exists for no reason but one,
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[FONT=&quot]What should be cannot be done.
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[FONT=&quot]It’s not to say that’s what he wants,
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[FONT=&quot]Yet he finds no more than torture and taunts.
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[FONT=&quot]His soul weeps, as it’s a fragile being.
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[FONT=&quot]Nowhere to hide from the pain he is fleeing.
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[FONT=&quot]He seeks a life, one he never had,
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[FONT=&quot]That’s why the day so dreary, was so sad.
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[FONT=&quot]Tears from Hell are not heard by God,
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[FONT=&quot]Because the man still thinks love is a fraud.
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[FONT=&quot]The man’s eyes look so bare.
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[FONT=&quot]This poor soul has no reason to care.
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[FONT=&quot]Alone he has been, as alone he will be.
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[FONT=&quot]Is there anything that can set his soul free?
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[FONT=&quot]If future is what past has been,
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[FONT=&quot]This soul’s dreams will never be seen.
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[FONT=&quot]Tears taste salty this man knows well,
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[FONT=&quot]For gallons have come from within his hell.
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[FONT=&quot]He questions his creator from deep inside,
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[FONT=&quot]Such a mistake made He, the infinitely wise?
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[FONT=&quot]The man’s existence is shallow indeed,
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[FONT=&quot]It will remain that way until his soul is freed.
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[FONT=&quot]To catch the myth is the dream.
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[FONT=&quot]
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[FONT=&quot]Here is the last poem that I was impressed enough to write a couple weeks ago:
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[FONT=&quot]I am forever thankful that finally now I see,
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[FONT=&quot]In life's moments with all its passions, even reflective melancholy,
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[FONT=&quot]and every appreciative emotion that has ever encompassed me;
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[FONT=&quot]In the jeweled glimmer captured of the sun in a drop of dew,
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[FONT=&quot]precariously clinging in the breeze to the leaf of a Maple or needle of the Yew;
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[FONT=&quot]and those secret moments where I thought I was alone; for I never knew:
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[FONT=&quot]It was Thee! It was You!
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[FONT=&quot]
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[FONT=&quot]Adrift in those moments...
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[FONT=&quot]Like the Dandelion seed, or flake of snow dancing in the air,
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[FONT=&quot]or, the flame engulfed embers of the warm fire enticing my stare;
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[FONT=&quot]In all the wee hours of my stellar observations,
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[FONT=&quot]where I was lost in the cosmos and imaginations,
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[FONT=&quot]and in those subtle whispers that would touch my quieted soul,
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[FONT=&quot]Even ignorant of You, I counted as gold.
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[FONT=&quot]
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[FONT=&quot]And in the wide and honest swirls of a young child's eyes,
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[FONT=&quot]or hiding in a joyful smile in the dimples is where you hide...
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[FONT=&quot]Perhaps watching, lingerly savoring those moments as I,
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[FONT=&quot]connected through true appreciation, where there's neither ego nor lie,
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[FONT=&quot]but, unknown to me and invisible before my eyes,
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[FONT=&quot]
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[FONT=&quot]Now that I see, I do realize;
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[FONT=&quot]In all life's beauty and marvels like the universal expanses with glowing bands,
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[FONT=&quot]tapestries of flowers, fireflies, symphonies of frogs: And....
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[FONT=&quot]A family meal, simple kindness, and out of every delight filling the land;
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[FONT=&quot]You embrace me and take me in Your hands.
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[FONT=&quot]No matter how small I may be, I can finally see;
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[FONT=&quot]that behind it all: my first joy, my first love, and my new perpetual glee,
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[FONT=&quot]my longing, my first step, and my first victory,
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[FONT=&quot]My Lord: it is You! It was always Thee!
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RosaMarie

Junior Member
Feb 11, 2015
6
0
0
#2
interesting poems, it is good to get down on paper what is whelming up inside of you. great job!