Category: Poetry

Time moves too quickly,
Much too quickly for man.
Measured by a sweeping hand
It takes all it sees.

Time has seen too much
And taken all it has seen
Yet it wants to see more
And take from us our lives.

Has not time seen enough?
Surely the lives of millions gone before
Are enough to sate the
Monster’s all-pervasive appetite.

But no, we must realise that
Time will claim us all.
No body is immortal
So each in turn must die.

But there is hope beyond the grave
For the soul beyond mortality.
If we can give our spirits the chance to live
We can escape
The fate of time.

Am I alone?
Is anyone else really here?
Are the people I see and hear real?
Or are they imagined?

What should I do?
Should I follow the crowd (if it exists)?
Everyone else is.
Might as well, though it makes me feel
Weak.

What are they doing?
Oh no! They can’t be!
I can’t do that … or can I?
I shouldn’t … but everyone else is.
I will.

I smile and say “It was great.”
But inside I’m crying.
I feel dirty. And next time I know
I’ll have to give in.
Again.

Well, it wasn’t so bad this time,
I must have been imagining things.
But no! I can still hear crying!
Have I hurt someone?
Have I hurt myself?
I hope not.
Next time I’ll be
Strong.

I’ve done it again. It wasn’t my fault.
I couldn’t help it!
I can hear the crying again, and it hurts.
But it feels so good, and I don’t want to miss out.
But later it hurts so bad.
What do I do? I’m so confused!
HELP ME!

The sparkling path of the moon on the lake,
The face of a kitten just newly awake.
The swirling white clouds in the sky that’s so blue,
A small orange bee on a flower drinking dew.

The splendour of  sunsets that light up the sky,
The high-flying hawk and his solitary cry.
The path in the forest now covered with leaves,
The dew falling gently as a spider weaves.

I do love such beauty in nature, it’s true.
But what I love most in this world is you.

Small droplets are falling down out of the sky
And someone is sitting, beginning to cry.
Tranquility settles will the soft soothing sound
Created by water that’s meeting the ground.

As each of the minuscule droplets fall
It sets free a ripple, encompassing all.
Each droplet is new, only once being seen
To brighten the world, to help make it clean.

And droplets are falling from someone’s face,
From the face of someone not keeping the pace.
Easing the tension, making life new,
Giving relief that’s so long overdue.

Droplets give life, they take away pain –
Droplets called tears, droplets called rain.