a few original poems by yours truly

Write Enough?
Lara

You told me to write it all out
You said just let it all go.
Well you can know without a doubt.
That I’m writing now.
You said I could trust you
You said you wouldn’t hurt me
Now I don’t know what to do
And you can’t even see.

I don’t know what I did
To deserve all of this
What did I say
To make you feel this way?
Please tell me now!
Now that I’m writing it all out

Maybe if I write enough…
If I give you enough stanzas…
Then you will understand;
I’d write till I lost my hand.
But I could easily say it in two lines
And I never will admit it…
Because I gave you my trust
And then you broke it.






White Dove
Lara

I’ve been running an endless race.
Against myself, life, and space…
It does me no good --
That’s where I finally understood

I slap myself a thousand times;
Even I can read the signs!
This fear is just too much;
As I stand in death’s clutch;
And as I see the White Dove…
You save me again with your love?

And as the White Dove comes to me;
That’s when you get to see
What a cliché that this is the best day of my life
Funny…I imagined it when I would be your wife

This fear is gone;
The pain disappeared with the dawn.
Now you can live through this life --
As the boy who held my knife.





Dirty Dishes
Lara

When we would walk
I’d hold your hand
But things didn’t come out
Quite the way I’d planned
A few months later
We stood by your grave
And it hurt me so much
To give that last goodbye wave.

I will miss you
For the rest of my life
I will want you
In the middle of the night
Tossing and turning
Wishing and yearning
To have you back.

I’ll miss you
When I turn thirty
Just thinking about
How these dishes are dirty
Remembering the chores with you
And all the things
We used to do.

I can’t let you go
And I want you to know
I’ll always miss you dearly
I miss you dearly.

He gets you now though…
And only that thought makes me smile.











Gray Skies
Lara

If I could paint us a picture
Of someplace to go to
I’d paint a dark room
Where no one could see
what we do
I’d sit there
holding on to you.
Now that you’re gone
And I miss you so dearly
The skies have turned gray
And I love you so clearly
Come back to me

Cause night is like needles
And day is like fire
I need you beside me
All my life seems so dire
Without you
Come back to me.
Please…







Expectations
Lara

At the age of three
You are expected
To be able to hold it…
For the most part

At the age of ten
You are expected
To be able to clean your room…
For the most part

At the age of thirteen
You are expected
To be able to be intelligent…
For the most part

And now…
At the age of sixteen
I am expected
To not play in the soap suds’ bubbles…
For the most part.