Past Poetry

Expressional

No one truly knows why it exists or where it comes from. It is our only instinct of natural behavior. It pierces the heart, it cuts deep like a sword. Some of us hide it and some of us show it well. Many have this super force of nature so mixed up now that they do not know how it should work anymore.

It is an emotion. A common balance that we share with one another. To express ourselves when we feel and touch. A smile of happiness, tears of sorrow, red with rage, stiffness with anger, blank glances of depression, and singing with joy. As much as one tries to hide their emotions, they could never control the gift.

Yes, it is our right to call it a gift. More precious than love itself. I've not known a person who had no emotion. They might not have shown love or happiness but they could show rage and anger. To control such a gift would be by the very hands that created us. For we all know that we can not be God.

In Silence

The smell of fresh cut fields in autumn. The large wild and crazy crowds that swarmed around the benches. Almost like a carnival but focused on one thing. They cheered, they yelled, and my heart raced with joy.

The feeling of freedom during those chilled evenings. Holding your hand when I had the chance. We were shy and innocent. I followed you through most of what I could. You held me at high favor in your brown eyes. Our courage stood strong when those around us tried to break us.

Our moments were spent in sweet silence. We somehow fit together like diamonds and garnets on a gold necklace. Embraced with the dark red of love and covered by the sparkle of white. Hanging on to one anothers friendship till the end.

You were there for me as much as you could be. I held you in high favor through a smile. We were shy and ever so innocent then. Our friendship will never be forgotten. We still stand strong.

Hills Of Gold