my poems:
I'm not any good at expressing myself. I'll spare you and only put up a few.
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VICTIM OF LOVE bearer of hate
Laying in bed, watching soaps on T.V.
outside the sun is shining, it's eighty-degrees!
Inside my heart is tied up in knots.
I feel stupid, I feel used, I feel anger abide.
When will I learn? They are all the same inside!
They think that love is nothing but a game.
The words, the gifts--they don't mean a thing.
We are to them a trophey that they proudly display
for a little while, then mindlessly toss away.
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Why the color purple makes me wanna puke-
Won't you please take this dagger from within my heart?
Oh the pain, the pain ripping through my veins!
Your touch how it tingled, your words how they warmed my soul.
With eyes so blue (although sometimes gray), you whisked my heart, you stripped it away!
Those stars at night, oh how they glow, those stars at night- they burn through my soul.
And that color that you love (ugh...purple),
it gives me such pains.
I find a pinch of happiness just standing in the rain.
My soul so tortured, I yearn to be free.
The thunder, the lightning, the pouring rain. They give me some joy all the same.
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THE PAIN WITHIN
IF MY HEART WERE MADE OF GLASS
my heart would be no more
IF I WERE TO COLLECT ALL OF MY TEARS
an ocean would emerge, to me a salty shore
IF ALL THE LIES I'VE EVER BEEN TOLD WERE CHANGED TO DOLLAR BILLS
i would be a bazillionare with so much money left to share
IF ALL THE HURT AND ALL THE PAIN MY BODY AND SOUL HAVE ENDURED, WERE TO BUILD UP INSIDE OF ME
a mighty explosion would occur-bigger than the world itself- nothing would be spared
I THOUGHT ONCE WAS ENOUGH!
MY HEART BARELY OVER THE PAIN
when once again I was taken aback to suffer through the same
A GAME THIS IS NOT! I HURT SO MUCH WITHIN.
will this ever stop, or am I doomed to suffer again and again?

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LIES, LIES, LIES
The flash of lightning, followed by a thunderous bang
cannot convey the feeling of this escrutiating pain
caused by not a fracture, nor a broken limb,
no bullet, nor bruise, nor illness hail.
Only a heart, only a soul can conjour this much pain.

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forever nothing
TELL me that you love me,
as silently as the descent of a star,
with a velvet touch, even as we age.
Flower petals appear above my head.
There is no passion left.
And our dream finally ends.

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the Endless circle
Give me a glass of water and I promise you I will understand.
After the lights are dimmed,
while the stream flows past us in the moonlight,
angels of mercy begin to control my dreams,
and we have been here before.
Ask someone for a cigarette,
as the darkness closes in around you.
Do it without arms, screaming as loudly as possible,
while childhood warnings enter the nightmare.
Even as we crumble in the wind,
know-we have been here before.

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innocence
The boy held the gun as if it were power,
all the while wilting like a dieing flower.
People froze and people scattered.
Morality had been all but shattered.
A boy stands alone with a gun.
eyes gleaming wide, as bright as the sun.
His little hands shake as he aims the gun
at bewildered adults who turn and run,
not able to see the child as somebody's son,
for this small boy holds a gun.

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depression
A devil walks past my door
although, I know not what for.
It lingers there for a while, sensing
I may be in denile.
What does this beast want from me?
Why does it not let me be?
A devil watches night and day- makes me wonder- am I okay?
A ringing in my ears, a throbbing in my head,
reminds me that I could be dead.
But this devil doesn't dare show me how to get to there.
Rather it just wanders by waiting,
waiting for me to try.
What exactly does it want?
Why does it linger so? This I really do not know!

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hope
Angels spread their wings
For joy, for peace, for love.
Raising them high into the sky
Among the clouds, the birds and planes.
Independantly, they soar together
Darting through our lives
Trying to catch our tears, while whispering in our ears
Only inspiration, determination, and strong will.
Loveing us although we do wrong.
Interfearing only when we are not strong
Vastly spreading hope throughout our lives,
Everlasting peace is what they most strive.

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All poems written by (c) Fawnabella, 1995-2001
No poems may be used without my permission!!! ha, like you'd want to.