Tag Archives: poem

The Rains Outside

I reached, but you weren’t there;
I cried, but you didn’t hear me;
I tried, but I failed somewhere,
And the rains outside don’t care.

Woke up this morning to nothing,
And I decided to go nowhere;
There was nothing to do all day,
And the rains outside didn’t care.

We had a million conversations,
But they were all in my own head;
Afterwards, only silence was there,
And the rains outside never cared.

These People

These people that live short lives of irrelevant beauty,
Are the art that litters the books of forgotten history;
Someone burnt down the museum but not the library,
Said the words were too hot for flames of the literary.

So I talked to these people and spent all day drinking,
They told of the treasures of ignorance and thinking;
But the dark waters rose as their boats were sinking,
Last I saw they were deep under water, lights blinking.

I buried their fading memory on the shores of denial,
I hung my head and thought of their dreams awhile;
Not for heroes, but for them I couldn’t help but smile,
For it is the common people that truly live lives of trial.

Loving Ghosts

I recall the sweetest fall,
Where angels wept in the skies;
The cold drink before it all,
Couldn’t hide the fire in your eyes,
As smoke curled around our form,
I could see the future was closed,
And the present was stillborn,
As long as I was loving ghosts.

The sun was high as was I,
When you sailed past like a cloud,
Caught the breeze to catch your eye,
As whispers of love grew loud;
The gods themselves would part seas,
So I could walk to your side,
But even they could not seize,
A drowning heart beneath the tide.

And the sun was high as I stood,
On that lonely strip of the coasts,
I swear I did all that I could,
But still I remain loving ghosts.