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Birds Cry My Name
Screaming echoes in the silent night,
For not heeding the call to bed’s respite.
Facing the clock, its numbers glaring,
6:48 a.m., the dawn’s declaring.
Lying in bed, hands up in the air,
Shadow puppets dance with care.
Ignoring the clamor, a deafening roar,
Like the noise of thoughts I can’t ignore.
Daylight breaks, birds chirp their song,
A reminder of time, where I belong.
Lost in battles, sleep eludes my grasp,
I rise, facing monsters, my courage unmasked.
For class awaits, a journey to embrace,
A sign of retreat, against my inner space.
Bipolar whispers, a constant fight,
Yet with each dawn, I rise to the light.
Breathe
In the whispering woods, a symphony blooms,
Where trees play their music with rustling tunes.
Above, the sky crafts its lights so fair,
A dance of colors, an aesthetic affair.
Mother Nature, she tends with gentle grace,
Nurturing souls in her warm embrace.
Yet should she depart, vanish without a trace,
Breath becomes but a desperate chase.
In the illusion of normalcy, we sway,
As if all is fine, day after day.
But heed this truth, handle with care,
For without her, breath becomes air.
So I vow, to keep her close, to strive,
To protect her, as long as I’m alive.
For without her presence, gentle and rare,
Breath turns hollow, lost in despair.
Her
In the softness of her frame, a spell,
Her lips, the source of my sweet swoon’s swell.
Her eyes, alight when I draw near,
Yet fear restrains me, tangled here.
I bring her joy, yet still I wonder,
Does she linger for my tender plunder?
Her heart, a font of truth untold,
But lies I crave, their tales unfold.
Let this dream not fade, but fever bright,
Each tremor sets my soul alight.
Could I claim her as my own?
In secrecy, our deeds are sown.
Her touch, not mere, but mountains stir,
With whispers soft, our love does confer.
Pretend
In silence long, I’ve veiled my heart,
Afraid to let the light depart.
Now you shine, a tempting flame,
Yet doubt and fear keep me the same.
I see the signs, but do they lie?
Will your words make the shadows die?
I feel the warmth but guard the pain,
Fearing love might break again.
Tell me, is this real or a fleeting dream?
Can you mend what’s torn at the seam?
I want to love but fear the fall,
So I’ll pretend and shield it all.
Family Tree
Oh, the weight of yesterday’s mistakes,
Like old photographs, they fade but never break,
Carved into the wood of our family tree,
Branches reaching out, but they never touch me.
Generations whisper secrets in the dark,
Their voices echo, leaving a mark,
We carry their dreams like chains on our feet,
Dance in their shadows, never feeling complete.
In the kitchen, the memories boil and steam,
Broken dishes and unfulfilled dreams,
A grandfather’s silence and a mother’s cries,
Mixed with the bitterness of forgotten goodbyes.
Inheritance isn’t just money or land,
It’s the scars of the soul, the weight of a hand,
We inherit their fears, their regrets, their strife,
Like a script we didn’t write, but it’s the story of our life.
So we’ll dance through the dark with our eyes open wide,
Embrace the unknown and let the past slide,
We’ll carve our own path with each step that we take,
Turn the echoes to whispers, let the old shadows break.
For in every new dawn, there’s a chance to redefine,
The legacy we build, the life we design.
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