Poetry 2014 by Odessa McNiel (best e reader for academics TXT) 📕

hands.

They do not know the power

And strength of your love.

 

They are merely a rookie,

Toying with emotions.

One hazardous spill

Could cause quite the commotion.

 

But for now I'll suffer

In hopeless agony

While you decide

What cards fate will play.

Tears 9/2/14

This churning mass,

This swirling blue,

Tipping and pouring emotions.

 

It floods,

Spilling down those

Blush red cheeks.

 

They sting,

And they tickle

As they continue to trickle.

 

Splashing.

 

Drip.

 

Drop.

0500 (9/4/14)

The room is full and crowded,

People rushing everywhere.

Tubes hang limply in midair.

 

Epinephrine,

Liquid adrenaline.

The heart has stopped.

 

Injecting into veins.

Nothing happens.

CPR.

 

They pump the chest.

Thirteen pumps, two breaths.

A couple broken ribs.

 

The process is on repeat.

Still nothing happens.

Ten minutes pass.

 

Then they stop,

No more compressions.

No more drugs.

 

The heart has stopped.

It is lifeless.

Time of death: 0500 

Home 10/16/14

Home is where

The green grass grows.

Home is the feeling

Of red dirt between your toes.

 

It's running through

The pouring rain

And standing beneath

The dark night's stain.

 

Home is you

Holding me tight

While we sit

Beneath the bright moonlight.

 

Home is where

The heart is.

It's the place you grew up,

And it'll be the place

You miss the most.

 

Home is that little grey house

On that big, green hill.

Home is racing through the pines

In search of the cool, crisp creek.

 

Home is hot summers and

smelling honeysuckle on the breeze.

Home is simple

And a life of ease.

 

Home is where

The green grass grows.

 

It's running through

The pouring rain.

 

Home is you

Holding me tight.

 

Home is where

The heart is.

 

Home is that little, grey house

On that big, green hill.

 

Home is hot summers and

Smelling honeysuckle on the breeze.

 

This is my home,

And it belongs to me.

Inside 11/9/14

It hurts to laugh.

It hurts to smile.

It hurts to hide the pain

That's burning me up inside.

 

All I want to do is cry.

I want to scream.

I want to emphasize this pain.

I want them to know how much it hurts.

 

But I'll fake that smile once more.

I'll put my emotions aside.

I'll hide the real side of this facade.

I'll make sure they won't see the real me.

Broken

A broken ring,
A broken promise,
A broken time, long forgotten.

 

An old box,
An old picture,
An old face from the past.

 

A moment of remembrance,
A moment of love,
A moment of pain, sorrow, and sadness.

 

A piece of bliss,
A piece of life,
A piece of what used to be.

 

A face with black hair,
A face with green eyes,
A face with all the love in the world.

 

A painful break,
A painful scar,
A painful reminder a blissful past.

 

An old ring,
An old promise,
An old time, now forgotten.

 

A new ring,
A new promise,
A new time for those forgotten.

 

A new job,
A new life,
A new baby to make things right.

 

A new town,
A new house,
A new memory to count.

 

Another baby,
Another memory,
Another blessing to count.

 

A few years,
A few diplomas,
A few memories now forgotten.

 

An old man,
An old woman,
An old, empty house now old and rotten.

 

A weak heart,
A weak breath,
A weak tear, flowing down his cheek.

 

A sad day,
A sad place,
A sad memory imprinted in time.

 

A lonely man,
A lonely love,
A lonely heart long past broken.

 

Another old box,
Another old picture,
Another old memory once shared.

 

A moment of remembrance,
A moment of love,
A moment of pain, sorrow, and sadness.

 

A moment of anger,
A moment of regret,
A moment of want, quickly waning.

 

A broken ring,
A broken promise,
A broken time, long forgotten.

 

Daddy, Don't Cry

I stand on the stage

In my cap and gown.

Twelve plus years of school.

Here I am,

Finally done.

 

I search the crowd,

Looking for his face.

The front row is where

I see him.

Daddy, don’t cry.

 

His salt and pepper hair,

Reflecting with the lights.

His brown eyes filled with sorrow.

His face blotchy and red.

Tears race down his cheeks.

 

We stare at each other.

And in that stare,

I see so many things.

So many… memories.

Daddy, don’t cry.

 

I see the day that I was born.

I see him holding me in his arms.

I watch as he kisses

My jet black curls.

I hear every whisper of love again.

 

I see my first day of pre-school

As he let go of my hand, knowing

That I’d be great some day.

Somehow, he knew he’d see me here one day.

Daddy don’t cry.

 

I replay every award ceremony

He’d ever attended.

He was there, I remember,

For every trophy

And every crown.

 

He told me he loved me

And that I was smart.

When all along, I knew,

I was breaking is heart.

Daddy, don’t cry.

 

He’s watched me grow up,

And he’ll help me move away.

But he knows I’ll be back one day.

I’ll see him again.

He knows I’ll be okay.

 

And when it’s his time to go,

I’ll be there for him

With tears in my eyes.

I’ll hold his hand,

And I’ll whisper,

 

“Daddy, don’t cry.

I’ll be okay if you leave.

I’ll still remember you

And every moment we spent together.

Just you and me.

 

“I’ll love you forever.

Close your eyes and rest.

It’ll be okay soon.”

I’ll sit by his side as he draws a final breath.

Daddy, don’t cry.

 

Emotions

I've been pondering

And wondering

And debating

Where we've gone wrong.

 

I don't know when

Or why

Or how

Or what got us to this lonely, sad place.

 

I've been talking to myself.

And it mindlessly comes mumbling

And tumbling

And sputtering out.

 

Every emotion

That has caused this commotion

Is oozing out of unsafe proportion.

 

I don't know how to control it

Or even if I should.

 

I wonder if its for the best

That I take the test.

 

I think it's returning now,

This sense of normalcy.

 

But part of me still wonders,

Can it really be the same?

If I Were Dying

If I were dying,
I'd hold you in my arms,
Giving you a shoulder to cry on.
And while you wept,
I'd dry your tears
And tell you about these last few years.

 

If I were dying,
I'd tell you all my deepest secrets
And all my fears.
I might even shed my own tears.

 

If I were dying,
I'd write book,
Giving the world a brand new look.
I'd tie up some strings
And maybe burn a few bridges,
But I know that I'll be forgiven.

 

If I were dying,
I'd wake before sunrise
And admire every sunset.
I'd visit the sites and go to Paris.
Climbing to the top is where my mind