Saturday, March 17, 2007

Alone, left out, abandoned, afraid

Reaching out for a hand to hold

Seeking the warmth of a smile, a nod,

Never finding the open door.

Windows locked, curtains drawn

A life shut down. A misery born

Of wasted dreams, useless schemes,

Anything to get inside where others laugh
And no one cries.

But doors are blocked for those like me

Those who drown in endless seas.

8 comments:

billie said...

happy laughter; joy
sorrow, tears or just being-
figuring out life.

folks may not know how to respond to art :) but that doesn't mean that they don't read it :)

Spadoman said...

These are all just beautiful. I was creeping around your place and found your poems. Made me cry and feel comfort at the same time.

Did you write these? The one about your Father? Did you write it? It is beautiful. I feel my bones getting cold at night. I dream that someone watches me, someone cares. And the one above that, the angel that will take us and set us free. I wait for that angel too.

Very beautiful. Thank you for sharing these with me.

Deepak Gopi said...

very nice poetry.pls accept my gift

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A SWEET TEDDY BEAR FOR A SWEET FRIEND

Unknown said...

Thank you all, and yes, Spadoman, these words come from my heart.

I love the teddy bear, deepok.

Shrink Wrapped Scream said...

You have such a gift for reaching out and touching the heart - your poetry is beautiful. The one on depression gave me goosebumps..

Thank you.

High Power Rocketry said...

: )

Spadoman said...

Came back here at 1:30 AM on a sleepless night, looking for comfort from an old friend. The nights are ong sometimes. I sit in the dark alone, not wanting to bother anyone. A joint or a bottle would be fine, but I gave that stuff up. I still crave the change of reality that getting high or being drunk brings me. I could go to the casino and gamble. Seems that time in front of a machine has the same effect as the pot and liquor and lasts until I run out of money that I never really had to waste in the first place.

Thanks for letting me ramble here. It is a long dark scary lonely night. I am used to them. I've made friend with the night, but not with my mind.
Peace to you sweet girl.

Unknown said...

Spado, I too have made friends with the dark. seems memories come out only at night sometimes. it has always seemed strange to me, that when you need warmth of another human being the most, it is nowhere to be found. some of my lonliest times have been spent in a housefull of people, either by choice or chance.

Does it make us stronger, more self-reliant, more comfortable with ourselves? I think it might.