Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Two Poems

Imperfect
By Ide Kayla (my 10 year old daughter)


For years I have been hiding in the shadows,
In my own shell of a life.
Tears splattering the blood-covered ground.
Knees wobbling,
Chest tightened,
I shuffle downwards to what seemed like death.
Her beady snake eyes scanned me,
Holding its icy blue stare.
Snarl that can curdle milk,
Was carved by angels to perfection.
Girls and boys gawk,
Making me sag to the ground.
For my pathetic imperfection,
Stank the school yard,
Causing the Magpies to flitter away,
In  a frenzy full of feathers.
A tear, this time,
Red with blood,
Rolled down my flushed cheeks.
It seems like the girl had damaged me with words,
Leaving the crowd to point and laugh.
I squint and almost die this time.
Familiar faces grin like demon's
In front of mine, which was pale and bitter, with frost.
Same hair, same eyes, same faces.....
I gasp with horror.
The tear of blood has repeated, leaving a mark on my other cheek.
Then, almost rapidly, a third rolled down, then a fourth,
And so on, the blood flowed at an amazing speed.
I became paler, which only added to my despicable face,
Which, now was the color of a sheet.
I took a deep breath, then accepted my tragic death.
I waited.
And waited
And waited.
I was no longer in this world anymore.
I vanished.

11/12/2011



Standing in the Rain
By Ide Kayla

O, god what have we done, to make sinners,

To change? The world is thy golden,

We are trinkets, spreading

A wildfire. Burning.

Keep Burning. The skies stained with blood of fallen

Warriors. The rain pelts like an inferno,

Stinging ‘round my neck.

Midnight looms over the silky dark sky,

Tracing bright stars.

I grip a palm. Shivering,

Dripping down my back,

Tears flow. I grip the smooth hand

Tighter, feeling a familiar warmth. My veins run ice cold.

My hard plunged in my throat.

Stubbornly, I crane my neck, seeing a man.

He, not solid, transparent with a sickly

Blue tinge. My grey eyes look in to

His warm, silver ones.

A peculiar feeling shoots through me.

No, it couldn't be...............

“F-father,”

I squeak, my voice reaching a peak.

The man does not answer,

Thy just stares at me solemnly,

As if we shared a secret.

And we did.

“Father....”

I repeat, a little most courageous.

“Is that you?”

No answer.

The man is gone.

02/04/2012


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