She took my hands I was 9
Giving me her other bud
And telling me just listen and enjoy the ride
Close your eyes and let me take you to the moon
She a woman of her words
Putting my feet above the clouds
And pushing me from the moon
Back to earth on my hands and knees
Waving and smiling from the moon back at me
looking up at her with my split temple
......
Talk is cheap
And promises never to do it again
have no guarantees.
Action speaks louder than words
So please, help me to forgive you!
©Sharon Morgan
Played with, mishandled, juggled, fumbled then
dropped
Once whole but now broken, this precious glass
Shattered and liberally on the ground it lays
A motley of pieces large, small, and in between
all scattered
......
Bad little scorpion
Lying to the frog
The frog trusted you
Instead you break its spirit
You break its body
You broke my trust
You’re a bad little scorpion
But your lies are big
Our game of poker became pointless
When you won all the time
......
You never had empathy for me
But I did for you
When someone close to me dies
You would say no one can live forever
And you carry on,
As though, nothing really happened
I despise you
And yr words of hate
For you never gave me love
When I need it
......
Played with, mishandled, juggled, fumbled then
dropped
Once whole but now broken, this precious glass
Shattered and liberally on the ground it lays
A motley of pieces large, small, and in between
all scattered
......
The mermaid's voice echoes across the sea
Her singing is sweet as a piece of chocolate
Melting slowly in yr mouth
But when you get closer, it is evil like someone
Who wants you dead
Drowning with her grabbing yr legs
Until you get out a knife and cut free from her hold
As you escape to the shore
You are exhausted
However, thankful, you are
......
the anger within me thrums deeply,
the way she speaks to others so sweetly,
and then turns to me and—
monster is all I use to describe her; double-tongued.
she cuts my skin deep with a silver dagger,
blood flowing as I try to run but instead I stagger
it anchors me down and weighs me under,
digging deeper with every move and blunder
......
tranquil like the ocean at dusk
in tune with the push and pull of the moon
and when the sea breeze comes smelling of musk,
it curls and whispers into my ear 'soon'
and when I hear it I recall when I once felt relief,
not really looking nor thinking that the next day
it would shift and turn into an overwhelming grief;
how it then felt as if what was torn hadn't been my trust–
but rather a broken wing and I am then hit with dismay
......
I torture myself with these thoughts ,
Trying to make sense of me crumbling ,
A strong enough breeze could turn me to dust ,
But the wind is stalling it’s just dark and cold ,
I’m surrounded by a cage of broken glass ,
Picking up pieces of myself cut me little by little,
I’ve be played with broken & left for garbage ,
Once treasured with care , affection and love ,
......