This is My Crowd

This is My Crowd
Picture by: Photography by Vicky Campos

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Saturday, October 1, 2011

Smorgybord Saturday - The Girl & Poetry

In honor of Smorgybord Saturday, where those bound to The Pact must offer up creative writing samples,  I have decided to post some poetry written long ago by The Girl mentioned in the previous post.  I hope she doesn't mind.

We'll start out with a real light hearted one:

Death of Humanity
The shadows sway as the breeze blows
A strand of hair is removed with a delicate hand
Conversations are carried away on the milkweed
Whispers from long ago rustle in the trees above
Sunlight is lightly sprinkled on them as if God were flavoring
the world with His grace
A chill is sent
A single black cloud
On droplet of cold, hard pain has fallen
The trees no longer gently whisper, but scream with the injustices
never spoken of
An icy wind howls with the hunger for compassion
The once pure hand is now callused and wrinkled
Humanity slowly dies

The second one is only slightly more desolate:

When the cities come crumbling down around our feet;
When the children no longer exist;
When there is nothing to live for but the death of another;
When power means more than the survival of many;
This, my dear, is when the world is dead.
Sincerely yours,
No Longer

Ok.  The last one, which I actually think isn't too dreary:

A Flower Pot
Like the rose you gave, our relationship died
Petal by petal it dwindled
I still love you, 
but there is no life in this rootless flower
It came wrapped in plastic, 
meant for only a short time of beauty
I'm looking for more, for a future,
for something that will last.
A flower pot, instead of a vase.

Hopefully, you could really sense the deep, desperate depression.

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