Past Poems
90. I often stop to think about where you might be
by Kea Campbell
I often stop to think about where you might be.
I stare into space and wonder about how we buried our dreams without saying a word.
And when the came and you said you were moving, I made sure to leave you first.
It's the insecurity of enjoying life alone that guts me to my core and rattles me deeper than bone.
I can't say I don't think about us 5 years ago.
Drunk under the stars with your arm as my pillow.
It wouldn't be true to say you didn't treat me right.
But it wouldn't be false if I said that sometimes when I was with you, I felt colder than winter's driest nights.
......
85. My silent stories are fading
by Kea Campbell
My silent stories are fading.
Unthought and nearly forgotten.
Testimonies published since grade 8,
But the chronicles, less of an epilogue.
I think about writing sequels,
But the narratives never change.
It starts with me and ends the same.
Merely less of who I used to be.
......
Past, Present, Future
by Emily Jane Brontë
Tell me, tell me, smiling child,
What the past is like to thee ?
'An Autumn evening soft and mild
With a wind that sighs mournfully.'
Tell me, what is the present hour ?
'A green and flowery spray
Where a young bird sits gathering its power
To mount and fly away.'
......
The Autumn Season
by Nimesh Bhandari
As I traverse the memoryless path over the leaf-sole,
I find all the barren trees expose their soul.
Their beauty, their ego, that had made them so mean,
Today they dance in delight, as they grow lean.
The trees which were the darling of their bunglows,
And the bushes which covered his poverished hut,
Appear the same, as the humility dawns on them,
Good or bad, Rich or poor, they are but the seasons fad.
......
Was it Worth it
by Ella S
Starting something new
is a bit scary at first.
It's not the beginning that's hard,
but seeing it the whole way through.
Sometimes we make it to the end.
Sometimes we don't.
If we do make it through,
it makes us feel good.
A sense of joy when we look back
at what we accomplished.
......
90. I often stop to think about where you might be
by Kea Campbell
I often stop to think about where you might be.
I stare into space and wonder about how we buried our dreams without saying a word.
And when the came and you said you were moving, I made sure to leave you first.
It's the insecurity of enjoying life alone that guts me to my core and rattles me deeper than bone.
I can't say I don't think about us 5 years ago.
Drunk under the stars with your arm as my pillow.
It wouldn't be true to say you didn't treat me right.
But it wouldn't be false if I said that sometimes when I was with you, I felt colder than winter's driest nights.
......
85. My silent stories are fading
by Kea Campbell
My silent stories are fading.
Unthought and nearly forgotten.
Testimonies published since grade 8,
But the chronicles, less of an epilogue.
I think about writing sequels,
But the narratives never change.
It starts with me and ends the same.
Merely less of who I used to be.
......
Cruelty-- Forgiveness-- And Forevermore.
by Nad Sof
Sometimes I wonder, what makes the heart so cruel,
When forgiveness blooms in the soil of a soul’s duel.
If I, broken and bent, can rise from the wreck,
Can bury the ghosts, and silence the wrecked,
Why can’t they let go, leave me in peace,
And allow me the breath of a soft release?
I don’t ask for riches, or a word of praise,
Not even a promise, not even a gaze.
Though they tore from me every spark, every light,
......
Hands that Left Scars
by Nad Sof
I’m sorry to those who carry my shadow,
For no soul should ever bear such weight.
I am a girl, barely begun to understand the world,
Yet I've tasted its bitter lessons too early—
Each one leaves a scar that whispers,
"Don't trust, don't hope, don't dream."
If there’s a touch that could reach me, soft and kind,
Without the weight of ghosts in its hands,
That would be the first.
......
Nostalgia
by Xia Sava
Nostalgia is a lighthouse
shining its light for new ships
Nostalgia enjoys what is,
no desire for things to change,
but ere long, Nostalgia watches
as the ships sail away
so Nostalgia waits
......
