true-story
Learn more about other poetry terms
Autumn comes and goes and soon the flowers die
No Honeysuckle to last as the cold encroaches on her
Down the hillside she use to grow but wilted stalks now lie
Not to rise again ‘til spring so winter’s wind cannot shiver
Seven girls danced on a hill,
On the last day of December.
It was a short moment to fill,
Wishing this time would last forever.
As winter was moving to spring,
Seasons of life moved as well.
If words can be a weapon and a bandage both
Forgiving and transgressing with a little flick
Yelling and whispering complements and jeers
On this I then wonder why they need not a leash
Torn in each direction
Heavily each force draws
Enveloping the sole will
Yearning to be free
Except it’s not enough
X over each lie and fault
Perceiving gone they still are there
Yesterday is one less piece in forever.
Onward moving without regret,
Understanding nothing of human pain.
Sometimes it would be nice to put Time on a leash,
Eventually It could understand what it puts us through.
There is something missing between there and here
Hope is not enough to cross the great divide
Everything is riding on this
Choosing whether to stand or run
Having lost sight of the road
Under darkness we fall
Have you heard a mocking bird?
Every time he sings it is another bird’s song—
Just mockery exits his throat,
Only to lure someone into a bigger trap.
I know some mocking birds well—
Never a fowl word,
Maybe this is a beginning of a story,
You’ll never know.
Far from the beginning and the end,
Another person might see the truth.
The question is can you?
Hearing only what you care to,
As I aim to try, though I work and cry,
It's all just a lie which I will not deny.
I try to gain, in introspect,
A sense of wonder and respect.
Live life
Love life
Live happy.
Be happy
Stay happy
Live a life of happiness and always be alive.