Stitches
12/09/06, 04:08 PM
Well, I know I'm not a good poet... At all. Mediocre [spell check] at best. (I know that I can't get things to flow very smoothly, and some of the word usage is awkward) But I've only been able to write two poems in my lifetime that I was actually satisfied with. I have to be in that perfect mind-set for my brain to put together rhymes and stuff. So give some feedback, negative or postitive, It won't bother me. One thing you should know, though. This isn't "emo." It's more of my realization that "It's time to move on." Cliche? Yes, but it was the only way I could express myself at the time. Here 'goes:
You Weren't There
“Life is supposed to be easy,”
Or at least that’s what we’re told;
We live, we eat, we age and sleep
Never knowing life uncontrolled.
We were taught as children, right from wrong
And we’re told the story of our, “savior.”
We’re taught the lessons, and the scripture, and the sins,
And the evil of human behavior.
I’m told that if I believe in him,
(Someone who I can’t even see)
And if I ask him to forgive my sins,
When I die, he’ll rescue me.
He’s supposed to be around us all the time
And guide us through the day.
How easily people believe in him
And bow down faithfully to pray.
But here’s my opinion on this matter;
A discovery that I’ve made:
If there’s a god, then he’s only of pain
And soon, the good things will fade.
If God is loving, and caring,
And helps us through our day,
Then where was he that fateful night
When I was only a phone call away?
Was he there with me and my pals,
When we were just clowning around?
And when the laughing turned into fighting,
Why didn’t God make a sound?
If he was there that dreadful night,
When Danny thought there was no one there,
Tell me God, what was going through his mind
When he arrived at his moment of despair?
If you were there, tell me why he opened his closet
And reached for his birthday gift;
Tell me why he grabbed that gun of his,
The aim: his dearest life to lift.
Tell me what you did to help him
As he scattered bullets on the ground.
Tell me what you did to console him
When he grabbed extra blankets to muffle the sound.
Please, I ask you, God,
If you’re even real,
Tell me what you did to protect his family.
Tell me, what did they feel?
What did his grandparents feel
When your “followers,” came to tell;
When they intruded upon their home
And told them Danny was in Hell?
If you were there that week,
If you saw me torn apart,
Then you saw the tears in my eyes
That matched the whole in my heart.
You obviously weren’t with me
As I carried his body to that place;
As I stumbled and struggled and could barely take a step
Towards the last time I would ever see his face.
-- -- -- --
It’s been a year since that awful day
And yet the guilt is still inside.
If only we weren’t fighting
And I could have swallowed my pride.
I stand at Danny’s grave now,
In this spot I call my own,
And I wonder if there’s some way he can see me,
Or if I’m all alone.
I wonder what he’d think of me
With all the changes I’ve made since then.
Would he agree with me or regret it all?
Would he still call me a friend?
I don’t know if there’s a higher power
Or where he’d be if there were.
All I know is I must find my own way,
Even though he’s the reason I’m unsure.
You Weren't There
“Life is supposed to be easy,”
Or at least that’s what we’re told;
We live, we eat, we age and sleep
Never knowing life uncontrolled.
We were taught as children, right from wrong
And we’re told the story of our, “savior.”
We’re taught the lessons, and the scripture, and the sins,
And the evil of human behavior.
I’m told that if I believe in him,
(Someone who I can’t even see)
And if I ask him to forgive my sins,
When I die, he’ll rescue me.
He’s supposed to be around us all the time
And guide us through the day.
How easily people believe in him
And bow down faithfully to pray.
But here’s my opinion on this matter;
A discovery that I’ve made:
If there’s a god, then he’s only of pain
And soon, the good things will fade.
If God is loving, and caring,
And helps us through our day,
Then where was he that fateful night
When I was only a phone call away?
Was he there with me and my pals,
When we were just clowning around?
And when the laughing turned into fighting,
Why didn’t God make a sound?
If he was there that dreadful night,
When Danny thought there was no one there,
Tell me God, what was going through his mind
When he arrived at his moment of despair?
If you were there, tell me why he opened his closet
And reached for his birthday gift;
Tell me why he grabbed that gun of his,
The aim: his dearest life to lift.
Tell me what you did to help him
As he scattered bullets on the ground.
Tell me what you did to console him
When he grabbed extra blankets to muffle the sound.
Please, I ask you, God,
If you’re even real,
Tell me what you did to protect his family.
Tell me, what did they feel?
What did his grandparents feel
When your “followers,” came to tell;
When they intruded upon their home
And told them Danny was in Hell?
If you were there that week,
If you saw me torn apart,
Then you saw the tears in my eyes
That matched the whole in my heart.
You obviously weren’t with me
As I carried his body to that place;
As I stumbled and struggled and could barely take a step
Towards the last time I would ever see his face.
-- -- -- --
It’s been a year since that awful day
And yet the guilt is still inside.
If only we weren’t fighting
And I could have swallowed my pride.
I stand at Danny’s grave now,
In this spot I call my own,
And I wonder if there’s some way he can see me,
Or if I’m all alone.
I wonder what he’d think of me
With all the changes I’ve made since then.
Would he agree with me or regret it all?
Would he still call me a friend?
I don’t know if there’s a higher power
Or where he’d be if there were.
All I know is I must find my own way,
Even though he’s the reason I’m unsure.