Category: Poems

You and Me

It’s hard to be away from the person

Who holds your heart.

The pain you feel

When they have leave.

 

 

We sit in the darkness

But I know you’re smiling.

When I touch your soft skin

And tap your little nose.

 

When I hold your hand,

You squeeze it so tight.

You kiss it and look at me with

Your big beautiful blue eyes.

 

When you tell me things,

It makes me happy inside

Because they are things

You’ll have only told me.

 

When I do something silly,

You just laugh or giggle.

The sound reminds me that

I do bring you happiness.

 

Today we will not see each other

But we don’t have too

Because I know I will see you soon.

Hope is all I need.

 

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The Widow in the Window

 

The widow in the window,

Is sitting all alone.

She doesn’t seem to realise

That no one’s coming home.

 

She’ll sit there for hours,

Looking down the drive.

Imagining his face,

Waiting for him to arrive.

 

When it gets dark,

She will still be there.

With tears in her eyes,

And an ongoing stare.

 

The house they had built together,

Was once full of love and life,

Now it creaks in pain and loneliness

As she is no longer his wife.

 

His things are all around her,

She never puts them away.

His unscuffed shoes on the floor,

That is where they will stay.

 

She keeps his badge,

Safely locked in a drawer.

Like one day he will need it,

To fight the next war.

 

The flowers are dead,

Petals litter the ground.

They are the last ones,

That will be found.

 

In her black clothes,

From some days ago.

The dust is settling,

Like the winter’s snow.

 

Light shines through the window,

Onto her withered, pale, cold face.

Strangely, now a smile is on her lips,

She has gone to her happy place.

 

The Figure

The Figure

 

I wrote this poem for University a year ago, I was trying to personify depression make it something you could see physically. The figure in this poem is scary, ugly, dark and controlling which is what I feel what depression is.

 

The Figure

I edge through the scratched door.

There you are in the gloom,

Restlessly waiting for me.

Arms folded, head drooped.

You don’t look up as I enter,

You don’t have to see me.

Your black tangled filthy hair

Dangles on the dusty, dark floor.

Your dirty fingernails are sharp,

As the pool of blood drops down.

The fear is rising in my body,

As time goes reluctantly by.

Your head is slowly rising,

My heart starts to palpitate.

The sound of screaming,

Is ringing in my ears.

All I want is to escape,

But it’s keeping me in my place.

You look dead straight at me,

Your eyes are unblinking, lifeless.

You begin to shakily rise,

Like my presence brings you strength.

Your arm extends out to me,

You want me to join you.

With all my will power,

I step back as far as I can.

Your eyes slightly bulge in surprise,

And you roughly shake your bloody arm.

Your sinister eyes are now angry

As you suddenly grab at me.

Suddenly, I am alone,

I can feel it sinking in.

The figure isn’t real,

It is just in my head.

Yet it controls my life,

Makes me wish I was dead.

Everyone has their demons,

Yet mine seem to stay.