To Love The Loved

Well i figured i would post this one. I finished writing it not 5 minutes ago. Its really more an experiment more than anything else, my first "free verse" thing, not the stanza stuff i usually do.

Well without further delay i bring you

Too Love The Loved.

To Love The loved

One must stand and watch

one must hold feelings in

causing pain

causing sadness

causing damage

Where does love go

When there is nowhere to go?

Where do feelings reside,

When forced to stay inside?

How is it possable

to hold in such feelings

You must cry without crying

want without wanting

and love without loving

To stand in a river

flowing with emotion

only to fight the current

working againts your own notion

You must stand in a shadow

with invisable thoughts

only speaking to the deaf

and showing to the blind.

COnfessing causes pain,

not to you,,,but to the one

So you keep it in

cause you want her bliss to last

So love

Worry

Want

and wait

all in dabilitating silence

who are you to say

that your feelings are superior

or is it simply

fear,,,

Torn From Innocence

Welcome to the first (and possably only) post of "Passing From Yesterday." I was asked to post something so im gonna do just that, im not sure how much this will be updated (if at all) but just go with it.

This is the first "story" that ive written. Im gonna warn you,,,the ending is kinda bad, il ltry and think of a better one, but here i present "Torn From Innocence"

In a cold dark room

In a cabin away from home

There sits a line little boy

Depressed sad and alone

He is a picture of innocence

A child of hopes and dreams

But his hopes burned to ashes

And his eyes lost their gleams

He sits in a corner

In a dirty old chair

He faces the wall

Fearing to face whats out there

The boy ran to this cabin

An abandoned wood shack

Running from his home

To the woods, frightful and black

He is surrounded by voices

Made by creatures of this place

His sobbing muffled only

By the hands covering his face

His small mind seeks answers

They all begin with “why”

“Why did daddy leave?”

“Why did mommy die?

Few memories of his father

For he was only 3

When his father made the choice

That he was going to flee.

The poor little boy

Knows not why his father runs

His mother never told him,

He solved his woes with guns

His father, a murder

Who fled from all his fear

Still has a place for his son

He holds him close and dear

Now just 4 years later

he bellows a horrable cry

it was, at his feet,

that he watched his mother die

At his home he sat

As he watched his mother sewing

The both felt a chill

Of a cold wind blowing

Suddenly a stranger

Appeared standing in the hall

With 2 men behind him

Dark scary and tall

In a fearce harsh voice

They made their demands

His mother stood brave

Clutching his son’s hands

They threatened to hurt her

And soon she would be dead,

If she was not quiet

And refused what they said

They tore through the home

A small modest place

The mother clutched the boy

Hiding fear from her face

They finished their looting

But still lusted for more

“Give us more money,

Or we’ll kill you you whore”

“I have nothing left

You took every last position”

“I say she’s lying to us,

We should teach her a lesson”

Forced to let go

They pulled her from her son

They began to ravage her

One by one by one
they boy stood in fear

As the med started to beat her

He tried to fight them

But no way a boy could save her

She fell to the floor

With a wound from a knife

“I love you son”

And she lost he grip on life

The men advanced on his

They still wanted more

So the boy began to run

Out the open door

They taunted the boy

Not chasing after

The boy, unaware,

Ran faster and faster

So now he sits

In a cold dark shack

That was once living quarters

Years and years back

He Sits all alone

His sadness ceasing never

When he hears a voice outside

“Son, this is your father

And those men are gone forever…”

It begins,,,

,,,