poeticangel

 It was just another typical Monday morning. The sky was an ugly, overcast gray and everything looked dreary. Not to mention, she had a headache on top of it which added to the overall feeling of 'blah'. Today was the start of yet another work week at a job which she felt totally unappreciated. They were absolutely awful – they made her look bad in front of her students, made fun of the way she dressed and the way she looked, yet there was a guy there who taught them that Nazis were trying to overthrow the government and somehow that was okay. She rolled her eyes at the thought as she locked her car and started her long walk to the mai

    My dear furry friend passed away on a Wednesday morning. I held her in my arms as she took her last breath. She had had a long battle, but I couldn't help crying as I felt her fade away from me. Always at my side she had been for almost as long as I could remember. We had always been together and now it was finally time to part ways; to say goodbye.    I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall freely, continuing to hold her in my arms. Feeling someone tap me on the arm caused me to jump with a start. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it, but there she was, at least a shimmering version of her – sitting before me. She look

Golden light cascaded out of the grand windows onto the freshly snow-covered ground. The place was crowded with fellowship and cheer, gathered together to celebrate Christmas Eve. Perhaps it was the light or the atmosphere, I am not sure, but I remember a warm feeling of comfort. All of the people are now a blur; all of their words are a muffled recording. The massive Hall is filled with people, yet I feel alone. People clammer for the attention of my father and brother; They positively fawn over my mother And it seems that my sisters' dance cards are over-booked. Despite the warm and merriment of the evening, all I can feel is t

There was a picture of my family sitting on the mantel. It has since been removed, but it represented a happier time in my life, in all of our lives. It was taken a few years ago, on our trip to the beach. My sister was there, in her new purple bathing suit. Dad had his arm around Mom. We were all smiling. And it was all fake. Whenever I think about those times, I just want to rip it in half, since it no longer represents true life. I have already ripped up all the other pictures I have of my mother. Growing up, I remember her as perfect and that’s exactly how she wanted everyone to think of her. I don’t think even my Father has

 I cannot take my eyes off her. She’s right in front of me, yet so far away. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t get her out of my mind. I want so badly to touch her, but I know, somewhere deep inside, that she’s nothing more than a memory now. I’ve tried so hard to let her go, but she continues to remain with me. Then, tell me, why do I feel so alone? The image in front of me mirrors the picture of her in my mind. Her naturally clear skin, her bright inquisitive eyes and her radiant smile are all there. Her hair rests just past her shoulders. She just looks so comfortable in her own skin. I remember holding her when

Wings of brilliant color floated into my life, drew me to their beauty and promised a friendship long lost. "Forever follow the butterfly for she ever watches over you. Follow my symbol, my form on this earth and she'll lead you to happiness." I befriended this butterfly soon after, devoting my time and my laughter, listening to her tales of adventure and heartbreak. I even went to her when I needed to cry. But the angels who watch over me were not so easily fooled as I. "Beware," they said "She is not what she seems." "Do not trust this false butterfly." Confused and torn, I kept it all inside. The angels never told me wrong

It really sucks not being able to use your voice, but alas it seems I do not have a choice. People look at me like I were a strangled goose, running around the bakery, on the loose. I squak, I croak, I bark all day and still no one can hear a word I say. Everytime I open my mouth, I feel like a goon. Poor little voice lost, I hope to find you soon.

Eyes once clouded by the world of sorrow, suddenly noticed the dusty violin in the corner. From where did it come, she wondered, she didn't remember seeing it there before. At one time, the violin must have been beautiful. Now it sits forgotton and alone; its only friends the dust and cobwebs. She felt an instant connection with it, feeling too the same emptiness. She picked up the lonely violin and dusted it. An urge somewhere deep inside whispered, "Play...", although she did not know how. But the violin seemed to guide itself and nestled snugly underneath her chin. Her left hand gently held the neck as the bow held in her ri

I have not taken my medication in so so very long. Partnership for a Lactose-Free Nation is that so very very wrong? "Got milk" ads are an abomination, which is in part why I wrote this song. Whether "lactose-free" or "lactose is for me" affiliation can't everyone just get along? Elimination of everything dairy! Brought to you, by the Frosting Fairy.

She slowly picks up the bricks that are scattered about her feet. The broken ones; she mends. And with each brick, she gently places them side by side. The once singular bricks are brought back together and start to form a row. The rows stack upon one another, building higher and higher to form a wall once again. They aren't in the same oder that they once were or even in the same shape. But the wall is still rebuilt. She rebuilt this once crumbled wall, so that she could be able to knock down other walls. Especially those that stand in her way, especially those that stand in her way.