POSITIVELY POETIC VOL I

POSITIVELY POETIC 1 NEW COVER
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LONELINESS

Sitting alone;

just sitting and thinking.

Simply deciding

but never confiding

a rise in emotion,

no sound; no motion.

 

Sitting here quietly,

just hoping and praying.

Simply tapping then suddenly

snapping at nothing and no-one.

And now it’s too late,

what’s done is done.

 

And you…

You showed me what life was all about

and all the things I was missing out on.

The warmth of feeling sent my head reeling,

revealing my true self, hiding

at the back of a dusty shelf.

 

Sitting in silence,

heart pounding defiance.

Trying to ease and trying to please

but no way can I say the right word

or phrase and my mind is lost

in a cold hopeless haze.

 

Sitting by the door,

remembering long ago.

Kissing life goodbye and

watching time fly through 

a life of dull routine, like

some kind of still dream.

 

And you…

Defying, trying,

pleading and crying,

from extreme to extreme.

This is just not the way

it should ever have been.

 

And you… I still love you.

 

Sitting alone.

At home by the phone.

 

Just sitting alone.

 

Waiting…

______________________________

WAITING

Life alone is

a desolate reign,

feel no remorse,

no fear, no pain.

 

Dark lonely days

and endless nights

with no chance of living,

or more pointless fights.

 

My reasons, pure and simple.

A growing need with mouths to feed;

to reap the seeds I’d sown

and a place to call my own

 

Like a cynical silhouette

dancing in the night sky.

Waiting.

Watching.

Time to say goodbye.

 

“HANG HIM!” the mob cries

but is this price not too high?

 

Hearts and minds

have been closed for so long

and they fear, now, to concede

that they may be wrong.

 

Sun kissed land

and dry river bed,

will I even be missed

when I’m dead?

 

No songs by the fireside

for this weary gent,

just a tear shed in pain

to a solemn lament.

 

Like a cynical silhouette

dancing in the night sky.

Waiting.

Watching.

Time to say goodbye.

 

Blackness.

Blackness all around.

 

Deathly silence;

not a sound.

 

A piercing cry

breaking bated breath.

 

A murderous mob

cheering a cruel heartless death.

 

Like a cynical silhouette

dancing in the night sky.

The long wait is over

with a tragic goodbye.

 

 

©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.

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